Page 97 of The Tenant

“Yes. Here you are, using somebody else’s name, and you don’t evenwantit. It’s an inconvenience to you.” I give her a pointed look. “A lot of people would bethrilledwith what you’ve been given, you know.”

Amanda squirms on the sofa. “You know,” she says, “I’m just thinking…we’re having such a hard time agreeing on a place…maybe it’s not such a great idea for the two of us to live together.”

“No?”

“I mean, I like you and all,” she says quickly.

Yeah, right.

“But given all the stuff with Blake, maybe it’s not such a great idea.”

Stuff with Blake? What is she talking about? My heart ratchets up a notch. “Did yousleepwith him?” I blurt out. If she slept with him, I’m going for the face. I don’t care about the time crunch.

“What? No!” Her eyes fly wide open, but I’m not sure if it’s because I caught her or just surprised her. “I just meant that he and I didn’t get along. I would never…” She grabs her purse from the floor and drops her phone back into it. “Look, maybe I should just get going.”

She stands up from the sofa, and I rise to my feet as well. She wants to leave, but I can’t let her. It’s now or never. I reach for the magazines on the coffee table and wrap my fingers around the handle of the knife.

And that’s when the doorbell rings.

Amanda’s attention is distracted by the sound of the chimes. Which makes it that much easier to jam the blade of the knife deep into her belly.

66

BLAKE

Please open the door,Whitney. Please…

I am fading fast. I can barely even stand up anymore without holding on to the doorframe. I have too much saliva in my mouth, yet I can’t seem to swallow it. None of this is good.

I hope the hospital has an antidote to whatever it was that Krista gave me. I don’t even know what the hell it was.

Just as I’m about to ring the doorbell again, the door swings open. I expected to see Whitney standing there, but instead, it’s Krista. Oh no, it’s too late. But on the plus side, I only see one Krista. At least I think it’s Krista. Maybe I’m starting to hallucinate.

“Blake.” She reaches out to grab my arm. “Come inside. Where have you been?”

I follow her, trying to do my best to hide the fact that I am actively dying. “I was…driving.”

Shit, are my words starting to slur? Not good.

“Driving? Where did you go?”

“I told you. I went to Telmont.” I wipe some drool out of the corner of my mouth because I can’t seem to swallow right anymore. “I…I went to talk to Whitney’s mother. And she told me…”

Krista arches an eyebrow. For a second, there are two of her, but then she’s back to being one again. “She told you I’m Whitney.”

“No, I saw the photo, and…” I wipe my lips again with the back of my hand. “I don’t understand. If you’re Whitney, then who is…”

A dark shadow passes over Krista’s face. “An impostor. A girl who stole my name while I wasn’t using it. You can see why she needed to pay the price.”

“Pay the…”

And that’s when I catch sight of the living room sofa. The girl I knew as Whitney Cross is lying slumped down, her midsection drenched in blood, which has leaked all over the fabric of the couch.

I’m too late. I couldn’t stop her.

I step into the living room, trying to get a closer look, but I can’t walk right anymore. I almost fall, but Krista catches me at the last second before I go down. She supports me for a moment; then I grab on to the wall to help me stay upright.

“Oh Christ.” I rub my temple with my other hand. “Krista…”