Page 2 of Into the Mountains
“Don’t worry, I still have a key.” Of course he kept a key. Elias used to be the owner of this building before he sold it to Avery, Sky, and me last year.
I don’t know how long I sit on the bathroom floor barricaded against the door, but it feels like forever has passed when I hear the front door open and a deep voice call out.
“Charlotte?” The rest of the apartment seems quiet and I wonder where the hell the bird is hiding.
The loud knock at the door startles me and I let out a yelp. “You want to tell me why you locked yourself in the bathroom?”
“I told you why.” My voice is deadpan, because I am not going to explain myself again or ask for his help again.
“Yeah, I get that. But the thing is, I don’t actually see a bird anywhere.”
That gets my attention and I stand to unlock and fling open the door. “What do you mean? It wasjustover there.” I point toward the space below the open window, expecting to see my enemy making itself at home. Instead, I am met with emptiness. Nothing. Only silence and bare space it occupied only moments before.
He levels me with a look, hiking up one eyebrow as if to ask me to prove there’s actually a bird here like I made it up. Why would I make it up? Does he think I made it up as a way to get him here?
Oh,hellno.
I may be a lot of things, but desperate is not one of them. Well, I’m desperate to get the bird out of here, but I’m not for anything other than that.
Swallowing whatever fear I still have bubbling inside, I maneuver around him, putting plenty of space between us and grab my pot holders from where they lay discarded on the floor—where I threw them in a fit of panic before, might be a more accurate description.
“And what exactly are those for?” He points to my hand protectors, not trying in the slightest to stifle his laugh. It rings out in the open space and it’s warm and soft, and annoying when I remember the last time I heard it. When we were laughing together. And with that memory comes the familiar ache in my chest whenever I let myself think about Elias fucking Hayes—or Waters now, I guess. Back then, it was Elias Hayes who was the bane of my existence and somehow he’s two feet away from me in my living room, once again invading my life without my permission.
At least this time a bird is flying at his head.
CHAPTER TWO
ELIAS
Charlotte lets out a scream that will probably make the neighbors think she’s being murdered by the guy who just casually strolled into her apartment. I’ll be shocked if Mable—who lives across the street—doesn’t call the cops.
The only warning I receive about what’s coming—along with Charlotte’s scream—is her hazel eyes widening to about the size of my son Ethan’s when the first sign of sickness hits and he knows he’s about to throw up.
I let out a shriek as something sharp digs into my scalp and I immediately make an attempt to dislodge whatever is tangled in my hair. After a few swipes, it finally relents before flapping its wings and taking flight. The bird starts making laps around the apartment, chirping away like this is a part of its daily routine. Wake up, feed the kids, find some sticks, fly into an unsuspecting woman’s apartment and stake it out until she’s desperate enough to call the only person available who just so happens to be one she can’t stand.
Both of us are crouched behind the kitchen island now, chests heaving from anxiety or fear, because apparently I’m not a huge fan of birds either. Not a fear I was ever aware of, but thenagain, I’ve never had one flying straight for my head before in my lifetime.
Our mutual foe lets out another shriek before a wet, squelchy sound echoes through the space, coming to aplopright on top of my head. The bird lets out one more screech before flying out the window, leaving us in silence. The only evidence it was here is in my hair. I close my eyes in disgust and try not to focus on the bird’s excrement currently seeping into my scalp.
Without even looking through the slit in my eye, I can feel Charlotte holding in a laugh. “I’m absolutely not helping you clean that up.”
Of course she wouldn’t. Even though I just did her a massive favor and basically exorcized a demon from her home, she refuses to do even the smallest favor in return.
Typical.
“Then you owe me a favor.” I point a finger in her direction and try my best to make my voice sound stern, but by the way her right eyebrow shoots up almost to her hairline, she doesn’t buy it.
“Look.” The back of her hand makes contact with my wrist, swatting it away like a royal would dismiss someone who’s beneath their station. Shooing them away before even hearing their plea.
“This may come as a surprise to you, Elias.” If I was on the fence about whether or not she liked me, the way she let my name fall from her lips would be enough of a clue. It didn’t really fall, more like plummeted, then careened to the ground, parachute failing to open and free falling until it landed with a loud, cartoonishsplat!
Her voice continues in that same manner and I don’t even consider interrupting her. “But I am perfectly capable of realizing I owe you a favor. However, the favor isn’t going to be cleaning bird shit out of your hair. That’s crossing a lot ofboundaries I put in place a long time ago that I really don’t care to revisit anytime soon.” She walks toward the window I herded the bird through and pulls it shut with a loud snick. It’s one of those French door windows that opens from the side by a few inches. This one seems to be worn out on the hinges though, and by the looks of the worn frame, it doesn’t fit snuggly anymore either. I wait for the lock to click, but it never comes. When Charlotte moves away, I realize it’s because there is no lock, or there was and it just got broken off or worn down from use until it essentially became useless, which leaves a very easy way into the apartment for any critter determined enough to wedge open the window the rest of the way.
“Do you know anyone that can fix this?”
She lets out a resigned sigh like she knew the question was coming, but that’s the only slip behind her mask. Within the next second, it’s back up, covering her features and hiding her true contempt.
“You know I know people who can.” Her voice is quiet, but not enough that I can’t hear the annoyance in it. Gathering up her hair, she continues.
