Page 36 of Exposé

Shutting the door behind me, I dropped the laptop bag onto the couch.

The front door creaked open as if a specter moved it. I sighed, snagged the card Nate gave me off the refrigerator door, and called his number.

My chest tightened with each ring.

Come on. Pick up.

Pick. Up.

"Hello?"

Nate's graveled voice filtered through the phone, turning my knees to jelly.

I sat at the table and faced the doorway. "Nate?"

"Speaking. Who's this?"

"Ava. I'm the girl you met—"

"Oh yeah, I know who you are. What's going on?"

I placed my shaking hand on the table and stared at the gaping door. "I know it's late. I'm sorry, but someone broke my doorknob, and I—"

"Say less. I'll be there in fifteen."

"Really?" I let out a heavy breath and smiled.

"Yeah. Let me find a new doorknob in this mess of a supply closet, and I'll be there."

"I really appreciate it."

"See you soon."

Sweat slicked my skin, my eyes roaming over my studio apartment, landing on my laptop bag and the white envelope sticking out with the other mail.

I jumped up and snagged it out of the side pocket, then tore it open with my index finger.

A single piece of printer paper sat inside, folded in three with two words typed out.

Kane Rogers.

My hand flew over my mouth, my head jerking up as I walked to the window and surveyed the grass below.

He was here.

My anonymous source was at my apartment.

Did they break in?

But why?

My stomach churned, and my skin crawled with tiny pinpricks as though their eyes had swiped across my flesh, leaving a trail of slime in its wake.

I need to change.

The violation left a film of disease within me, its smoky black tendrils tainting everything around me.

Who's Kane Rogers, and what the hell am I supposed to do with this?

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