Page 99 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I pick up the gun and rag, then go to my room. Once inside, I put everything I’m holding under my bed.

As I’m about to get undressed, I remember the note. I pull it out from my pocket before changing back into my pajamas. When I lay down in bed, I shove it under my pillow.

I’m so tired.

Chapter Seventeen

Peter

ITURN OFF THE CARand stare at our apartment for a few minutes. My feet are throbbing. I close my eyes just for a moment. The thought of going inside and taking a hot shower excites me. I have three hours before I have to be at the bar. I fling the driver door open, and head inside. When I unlock the door, I smell something weird...but not like pot or cigarette smoke.

Did Hayley try to cook something?

I walk up the stairs and drop my keys on the coffee table. The apartment looks very clean, just the way I left it, but what’s that scent? It’s spicy, almost. I can’t identify it. I’ve definitely never smelled it in here before...or anywhere, as a matter of fact.

The kitchen also looks suspiciously tidy. Hayley would never normally leave the apartment this clean. Then, I look in the sink. One dirty plate. I have to admit, I’m glad it’s not two dirty plates.

I wash the dish and put it back in the cabinet. A few crumbs are on the floor, but other than that, it’s spotless. I grab the broom and begin sweeping the kitchen. Strange.

I bend by the table to reach any hidden dirt. Something’s down there. I lean the broom against the wall and get on my hands and knees. It’s a man’s wallet, and it’s not mine. Tristian’s ID is inside.

This basturt was in my apartment again!? I knew it! What the fuck did he cook in here? I can hardly stand the smell!

I crawl out from under the table with the wallet, grabbing my cell phone from my pocket. I dial Hayley’s number. It rings as I walk into the living room.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” I ask and take a seat on the couch.

“I went to get lunch.”

“Were you home?”

“When?”

“While I was at work.”

“Yes.”

“By yourself?”

“Mhm.”

I recline and lean back. I put my phone on speaker and stretch my arms above my head.

“Oh. That’s weird because I have Tristian’s wallet here in my hand. It was under the table in the kitchen.”

“Oh. That’s...weird”

“I told you I don’t want him here. How many times do I have to tell you the same thing? You don’t listen!”

I lay my phone on the couch arm and dig through his wallet. A gift card to Wendy’s...two dollars wrapped around a condom—how pathetic—a key... Wait, a key? To where? I get a strange feeling.

“I know you said that, but I feel like it’s my apartment too, and you’re being a control freak again,” she retorts.

“Well, don’t feel that way until you start paying half the rent.”

---