Page 256 of The Last Good Man

“How did you figure out the passcode?”

“I saw you punching it the first time you came home.”

“I should ask the landlord to change it.”

“Or move.”

“Or move,” I say, grinning.

He holds the door for me as I enter the lobby.

“Your neighbor behaves?”

He points to Marlowe’s door.

“I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe he moved out.”

“Good thinking. This place is not safe.”

The irony is blatant.

“You think?” I toss at him, unlocking my door.

“Yes. It wasn’t safe withhimas a tenant.”

I gesture dismissively as I enter my apartment.

“He was just being stupid. Let me get this,” I say, collecting the bag before making a beeline for the kitchen.

“It’s not only that,” he says louder so I can hear him from the kitchen. “If I had figured out the numeric code, anyone could. Plus, the corridor is dark. People come in and out of the building as they please.”

That is a valid point, and heknows what he’s talking about.His company sells security services to people.

I set the bag on the counter and reach into a cupboard.

I scoop out two glasses and a bottle of wine before setting Renata’s cookies on a plate.

Pouring two glasses of wine, I keep talking.

“Everything you say is correct, but things are not that bad. Besides, I’ll be moving out soon.”

He says nothing for a fewgoodmoments, his silence pushing a chill down my spine.

“Jax? Can you hear me?”

I get nothing.

I grab the glasses of wine and exit the kitchen.

I find him in the living room, standing, his eyes on a colorful leaflet.

Initially, I don’t make the connection.

Why is he so quiet and stern?

And why can’t he lift his eyes to me?

What is he so engrossed in?

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