Page 29 of Levee

No man.

Living or dead.

But the blood…

“The fuck you want from me?” a voice said from the hallway.

Close. Way too close.

Like it was coming in here.

Where I definitely didn’t belong.

I mean, if it was the tenant, I could just… say I saw the door opened, that I was worried, that I wanted to make sure he was alright.

But then I heard something else that made my blood run cold.

A second voice.

Then a third.

My mind flashed back to the encounter by the dumpster. Four men. And the ones who’d exited the building after the altercation the other night. Four.

This wasn’t the tenant.

These were the men responsible for the blood on the floor in the other room.

Panic surged, making my heartbeat hammer, my blood rush through my veins, and my stomach roil.

I glanced to the closet as I heard noises in the other room.

Cabinet doors slamming, drawers being overturned.

They were looking for something.

And it was only a matter of time before they came this way.

I glanced at the closet, the most logical place to hide. But also the most likely place they were going to look for something next.

That just left the bed.

This guy’s one was much closer to the ground than mine was. Too low, really, for hiding.

But what choice did I have?

There was a crash from the other room, making me press my lips together to keep any sounds from escaping as I slowly lowered myself onto the floor, flattening onto my belly, then starting to wiggle my way under the bed.

The bars scraped across my back, snagging the material of my skirt, making me need to reach back to yank it free to keep moving. I slid up as close to the top of the bed against the wallas possible so that if someone reached under the bed to feel around, their hands were less likely to come in contact with me.

My whole body was shaking as I heard footsteps make their way into the bathroom, emptying out the cabinet under the sink.

They were coming here next.

And what would happen if they found me?

Would I be another bloodstain on the floor? Another body carried right out the front door?

How long would it be before someone missed me? Before they would even think to look for foul play?

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