Page 5 of Room Twenty-Seven: Theirs to Punish

“Are you aware that if you leave now, you forfeit the money?” the bouncer asks.

“Yes, I don’t care. I just want to leave.”

“Very well, I’ll walk you to your car.” With a courteous nod and a small smile, he motions for me to walk ahead of him. I don’t waste any time. Speed walking out of the room and down the stairs, I’m only vaguely aware of the bouncer following me through the club and out into the parking lot.

I hoped the fresh air would clear my head, but somehow, I’m even more confused than I was inside. What are the odds of this being a coincidence? Did he know I was in New Orleans? Did he track me down to get his revenge? I wouldn’t even hold it against him. I deserve to be punished for what I did to him.

“Are you okay?”

“No, but I will be.” At least I hope so. “Thank you for walking me out.”

“No problem. Do you need a ride home? I can call you an Uber.”

“I’m not far from here, so I’ll just walk.” It’s dark outside, but even after midnight, the Louisiana air is hot and muggy.

“Are you sure?” The bouncer runs his hand through his blond hair while looking around the parking lot.

“I promise I’ll be okay.” I’m really not worried about walking home at night in this city since plenty of tourists as well as locals are out and about. Musicians play at every corner while artists try to sell their paintings on the sidewalk.

“Alright then. I’ll see you around.” He walks back into the club.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I cross the parking lot and start to walk toward my apartment.

The only thing I’m worried about is the constant smell of urine on the sidewalk burning my nostrils. The city should really do something about that.

A few minutes later, I’m at the edge of the French Quarter, ready to cross into the business district. Fewer people are here, but the wide roads, well-lit sidewalk, and constant cars driving by keep me from feeling scared. Even when I get the odd sensation of someone following me.

I look over my shoulder a few times, but no one is there. Picking up speed, I fast walk the rest of the way. When I get to the building, I quickly dig my keys from my pocket and unlock the door.

“This is where you live?” A voice comes out of nowhere just as I push the front door open.

A scream rips from my throat. I spin around, ready to slam the door in his face, when I realize it’s Luke. I clutch at my chest.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to make sure you got home alright. You left so quickly, and you looked a bit… well, distraught.” He shoves his hands into his pockets.

“I’m fine,” I lie. I haven't been fine in a long time and probably won’t be for even longer.

“Can I come in for a little bit?”Absolutely not.“I don’t know. I’m really tired,” I lie again.Please just go away, Luke.

“I won’t stay long.” Luke gives me some puppy eyes that make him look harmless and somewhat lovable. He seems like he genuinely cares about my well-being. A small voice in the back of my head tells me it’s an act. He barely knows me, and the few details he knows don’t paint me in a great light.

“Come on, you don’t really want to be alone right now.”

I should definitely say no, yet my head nods without my permission. Maybe it’s my desperate need to feel less lonely or the heavy guilt that has put me in dangerous situations. I’m not sure why, but it’s clear something is fundamentally wrong with me and the way I treat myself.

“I’m on the fourth floor, no elevator,” I explain as I walk through the dingy hallway into the staircase.

Luke silently follows me up the stairs until we reach the third floor. “How long has the light been out?”

“It’s just on this floor,” I tell him. “It’s been a while.”

“You should tell your landlord to fix that right away. It’s not safe.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him.” Maybe after he changes the lock and throws my crap out on the street.

“You live here alone?” Luke asks while I unlock the door to my apartment.

“Yes, it’s just me.” I step into my living room, which is also technically my kitchen and my bedroom. My open space loft is not huge, but it’s also not too shabby. Even sparsely decorated, it’s cozy. Most importantly, it’s mine. I love living here, which is why I’m trying so hard not to get kicked out.

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