Page 25 of Seek Him Like Shelter

“Are you okay?” he asked, coming up to me.

Unfurling from my ball, I sat back against my cabinets, reaching up to press a hand to my throbbing face.

“Yeah,” I said, looking up, seeing blood trickling from his nose. “Are you?” I asked.

“Nothing a little ice won’t fix. He was standing behind the fucking bathroom door,” he said, shaking his head. “Must have heard us coming in and panicked. We should call the police,” he said.

“I didn’t get a good look at him,” I said, shaking my head. “They won’t be able to do anything.”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted.

It was a sad fact in a city as populated as ours that the cops weren’t exactly going to go out of their way to try to track down a faceless burglar. It would probably be hours before anyone even showed up at my door to take a report.

“We should at least tell Brian and maybe put a note up on the board downstairs, so everyone is aware that someone who shouldn’t have been in the building broke into an apartment.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding, even if I was pretty sure I knew who was in my apartment, and that they likely weren’t a threat to anyone in the building but me. “That’s a good idea,” I added when he just kept staring at me. “Thanks for coming in with me,” I added. “Who knows what might have happened if you weren’t here.”

I had a feeling I did know.

And I wouldn’t be alive right now.

“Anytime,” he said, nodding. “Do you mind if I go and tell Brian?” he asked, eager to continue to be the hero.

“Please do,” I said, nodding.

“Do you need anything? Can I call someone for you?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” I said, pulling myself off the floor even if all I wanted to do was stay down there. “Really, thank you,” I said as I walked him to the door.

“Anytime,” he said, nodding.

As soon as he was into the hall, I closed the door and slid the locks before walking numbly into the kitchen, grabbing my purse off of the floor.

It was when I was placing it on the island that I saw it.

The edge of a white card that was stuck under a bowl of fruit.

Elian’s card.

I reached for it like a lifeline as I grabbed for my phone, then plugged it in before I could think better of it.

“Hello?” he answered, sounding distracted.

“You said to call if I ever need help. I, ah, I think I need help,” I admitted, sniffling as tears started to flood my eyes.

“Elizabeth? Is everything alright?” he asked, voice tight.

“Um, yes. But also, no,” I admitted, reaching up to wipe some tears off of my cheek as my body started to tremble as the adrenaline continued to move through me with nowhere for it to go.

“What happened?” he asked, and I could hear the beep as his car turned over.

“My door was open when I got home, and there was someone in here,” I told him, my hand going to my face, fingers and palm pushing into my eye that felt like someone was driving an icepick through it and into my skull.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. My neighbor came in to check it out with me. I don’t know if I’d be okay if he hadn’t,” I admitted. “He got a bloody nose…”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, making some sort of driving maneuver that had a chorus of horns objecting.

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