Page 36 of Luka

So now, even though I’m certain it’s only him, I still don’t make noise. I listen to his movements as he comes inside and slams the door so hard I wince.

Is he angry? Did something happen?

He wasn’t gonethatlong. Not a full day.

Did he get fired?

Will he take it out on me?

I drag my heels up the bed closer to me while listening to Tall below. His steps don’t sound confident and methodical today. They sound uneven. Like he’s stumbling. He sniffs several times while opening cabinets and rattling things around like he’s looking for something. Like he doesn’t know his own home all of a sudden.

Is he drunk?

When he coughs, loudly, over and over, I suck in a sharp breath.

Is it evenhim?

I shift on the bed then still as it creaks, my chest tightening.

Do I still not want to be heard?

I listen carefully, angling my ear toward the ladder, and wait. I don’t know who it is. It could still be Tall. And there’s no way I’m risking pissing him off again by making a lot of noise.

Feet clomp on the floor beneath me and lead into the living room, so I eagerly turn my body that way. I can’t see the door or the kitchen or bathroom from this spot, but I can see the couch, and that’s exactly where the person goes. The person who isnotTall.

Well, he’stallbut notTall. His long legs ungracefully fold beneath him when he gets to the couch. He flops on his back and lifts an open liquor bottle to his lips. Even from this distance, I can see he doesn’t need that bottle. He looks like he’s had more than enough. His light brown hair is a disheveled mess, and his shirt is wrinkled. Both of his knees jut from holes in his dirty jeans.

Would he help me?

Air whistles through my nose as I breathe more heavily, though I tell myself not to get hopeful.

Anyone who helps will die.

Tall was serious. I could tell by the look in his eyes, and he’s more than proven it to me.

But this man didn’t knock on the door. He must know Tall. He even has a key.

Does heknowI’m here?

He takes another gulp of the liquor before sitting up and pulling a phone from his pocket. If he knows I’m here, he doesn’t act like it.

Minutes pass while he stares at the phone, what he’s doing I can’t tell. He sniffs intermittently, pinching his nostrils like they’re distressed. After a while, he pulls out white power and snorts it off Tall’s coffee table, the whole time never glancing at the girl staring down at him from this strange bedroom.

I don’t think he knows I’m here.

I groan into the tape, softly, fearfully, unsure if I want him to hear me or not.

This must be Tall’s friend. He wouldn’t kill him. I wouldn’t be responsible for his death. He…

There’s probably little chance he’d even help me anyway.

I groan louder against the tape, twisting my body as much as I can to face him. His head perks up, and he looks around but still not up. Not until I let out a succession of groans, hopping up and down on the bed.

When his eyes land on me, they bug, then blink, then bug again. He rubs them like he’s unsure he’s really seeing me.

I try to screamhelpat him, knowing it’s incomprehensible, and this gets him off the couch. He strides to the ladder, his gate appearing somewhat sobered, and climbs up.

His movements slow as he makes it onto the platform where he towers over me. His eyes roam my body, his brows coming together with confusion. Not with panic or concern. Not withthe need to help. Just confusion.

---