Page 2 of The Shadows We Keep

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“Rent’s $1,300 a month.You pay for everything. There’s a clause in the rental agreement that you have access to the pizza parlor downstairs. My family owns the business and the building. You get two slices a day. Don’t abuse it.” His seedy stare rakes down my body and I bristle inside. Unwanted attention isn’t anything new for me. I’ve been deflecting it for years.

I quickly do the math in my head. It’s twice what I’m paying now, but I’d have the space to myself. No more sharing a bathroom with two other roommates and their weekly guests. It’s not great, the paint is peeling, there’s a stain in the bedroom that eerily resembles blood. But if I’m tight with things, I can probably make it work. Plus, if I take advantage of the free pizza, I won’t have to buy groceries.

“Do you have an application I can fill out now?” I ask. He pushes the packet of papers across the kitchen counter where we’ve ended the tour. I look it over. Nothing out of the ordinary pops out at me, so I fill it out and hand it over.

“When can I expect to hear from you?”

“A day or two if you get it.” He looks over the information and ushers me toward the front door. It’s a long shot, but I had to try.

Two Days Later

My back hitsthe hard mattress on the floor with a thud. I’d planned to get a frame for it eventually, but when the place you live in is nothing more than a place to lay your head and wash up, what’s the point? Six hours of sleep in a manner of three days has not been enough to keep me going. My eyes fall closed the moment I turn to my stomach and hitch a leg up into my favorite sleeping position.

Buzz….Buzz…Buzz

Consciousness slowly creeps back into play. My hand fumbles around on the floor next to my bed, looking for the offending party that woke me. By the time my fingers wrap around the edge to snag it, the buzzing ceases.Of course.

As my eyes adjust to the bright screen in the dim room, I see a missed call from an unknown number. Usually, I’d leave it because the only numbers that show up unknown are solicitors and scammers, and I refuse to waste my time with either, but the voicemail icon pops up, stealing my attention.

“Hello Keira, this is Marco, the landlord you met with the other day. I was just calling to let you know that we have approved you for the apartment. My father wanted me to tell you the rent for this unit is only $800 and that includes all utilities. Please stop by Luigi’s as soon as you can to sign the lease agreement. I’ll leave it at the front counter with Sal.”

Holy fucking shit, is this really happening? An entire apartment to myself for not much more than I pay for this dump with two other people. That $500 difference changes everything. I jump up and look around my dilapidated room. There’s not much here for me to pack up. My small crate shelf holds all my clothes and shoes. A small collection of the odds and ends perched on top, while a stack of books I still need to return to the library sit next to it.

I take it all in, my room is depressing. But when you grow up without a permanent address, it’s hard to break the mindset that you’re not staying long. Although now that I’m about to move again, it’s convenient. Rolling to my feet, I throw on some clothes and pack my bag for the day. I’m relieved today is my day off. If I can get over to the pizza shop, fill out the paperwork, and get it to Marco, maybe I can move in later today or tomorrow before I go back to work.

I haven’t told my roommates I’m moving out, but seeing as we’re on a month-to-month lease, and I’ve already paid this month, I’ll tell them tonight and leave them to figure it out. It’s officially not my problem.

I luck out when I step through the pizza shop’s door and see Marco at the front counter; I didn’t expect that he would work in his own restaurant. He appeared the type of guy that did the bare minimum and expected the rest to be handed to him.

When his eyes lift from his phone, his gaze skirts up and down my body. I’m in my usual attire: skinny jeans, oversized hoodie, and combat boots. There’s not much for him to take in, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from glowing with lust. What a pig.

“Ahh, there she is, our new tenant. You ready to move in?” His saccharine smile sends shivers down my spine. I’ll have to keep a wide berth with this one.

“That’s what I was hoping to figure out from you today. Once I fill out the paperwork, when can I move in?”

“As soon as you sign on the dotted line and hand over your rent, I’ll give you the keys.”

I do as he says, filling out the paperwork and signing my life away. Well, for the next year at least. I dig through my heavy shoulder bag for my wallet. It’s bulging with the entire contents of my savings account I drained in order to afford double rent this month. I drop the bills to the counter. “Hope cash is fine?”

He nods and tucks it into his jacket pocket, pulling free the jangling keys and dropping them in my outstretched palm. “Need me to walk you up?” he asks.

“No, I think I remember. Thanks though. I’m going to head up now and see what all I need.” He points to the interior door to the side of the restaurant that opens into the small entrance alcove for the apartments.

“I left a card with my information on the counter. Call if you need anything.” The emphasis doesn’t evade me, but I pay it no mind. The more attention, positive or negative, you give a man like Marco, the harder he grips on to a possibility.

The front door creaks open, bumping against the wall. When I move into the space further, I’m shocked to see furniture in the living room. A couch and coffee table fill up most of the space. They’re nothing new, obviously second hand but still in decent condition. It’s the oversized plush chair off to the side that pulls my attention because it looks new.

What the hell is going on here?

The thought of going back down to the restaurant and dealing with Marco face to face dulls my excitement of the day. Maybe I can just text him? His card rests on the counter next to a packet of the rental lease. Drawing out my phone, I type in his number and save it to my contact.

Hey Marco. I just got into my apartment. I think there might’ve been a mistake. There’s a bunch of furniture in here.

No mistake, welcome to the building.

Well,I guess that settles that. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but life’s never dealt me a helpful hand that didn’t have strings attached. Walking through the rest of the apartment, proves the same results, a bed frame and nightstands that weren’t there the day before. A full dresser nestles against the one available empty wall. My mind races as the logical half of it can’t catch up to a reason behind the unexpected furnishings.

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