37
We entered one of the elevators at the Eastern Columbia five minutes after leaving the restaurant. David pressed the button for the tenth floor but not the second.
“I should probably let you know that I haven’t showered in... two, no, three days now,” I told him as my newly nourished body seemed to have only one desire at present. And it wasn’t getting that much-needed shower.
“You smell quite delicious to me,” he said, while he got closer and started smelling my neck and collarbone. Then he licked me behind an earlobe, and I almost melted. “You taste quite delectable too.”
The elevator thankfully made it to the tenth floor and the doors opened. By then, I was drenched in lust and not caring about anything else.
“Are you coming inside?” We stood in front of my front door, and I was somehow in early stages relationship mode. This communication thing was so rousing but so strange somehow.
“The police made a complete mess at my place when they were looking for me. So I’m not looking forward to going there. And there’s not a chance I’m going to let you out of my sight right now.” He leaned closer and kissed me. My back was against the wall, his body on mine. The feeling of being in the open, on the landing where a neighbor—probably George from 10B—could see us made the whole situation sexier.
I guess I should have realized then that something was amiss—since my front door was unlocked. But I was tired and had only one thing in mind: getting David undressed as soon as possible, and me with him. Also, I’d left the place in a rush that morning. I wouldn’t put it past me to have left it unlocked. And perhaps I did.
We got inside the apartment in a long, extended kiss that looked almost like that sequence inNotorious, where the camera gets up close to Cary Grant’s and Ingrid Bergman’s faces and follows them while they’re making out.
“Please stop with this premium-cable quality sex scene choreography,” a voice said, and it sounded like someone I knew... but it couldn’t be. “You know physical intimacy makes me cringe.”
Fred Appleton stood in my living room, pointing a crooked smile toward David and me. No, there was no gun in sight. Yes, the fact that a semi-perfect non-stranger had sneaked inside my apartment was still terrifying. You may say I’m a selfish brat and shouldn’t wish any harm on David. And I really don’t. But I was so happy not to have come home alone for once.
“You couldn’t just let it be, right?” Fred continued. “You couldn’t just leave Dashing’s death alone, take the great job that was being offered to you, and be grateful?”
“Fred, what the fuck are you doing at my place?” The shock must have gotten a hold of my system because I wouldn’t shut up. “I don’t remember inviting you. I don’t have a habit of having guests over who’ve tried killing me. Also, for the record, it wasn’t a great job. It wasajob, I’ll give you that, but I wouldn’t have taken it even if it was set in Los Angeles, which it wasn’t, so?—”
“Elena,” David, of course, tried navigating the situation in a more diplomatic way. “Perhaps don’t antagonize the uninvited killer, who we know is dangerous. What do you want, Fred?”
“That was my fucking line!” I snapped at David. “Can you please stop always taking control of the situation?”
“Seriously?” David asked me, frowning. “Are we fightingnow?”
“We wouldn’t be fighting if you weren’t so annoyingly diligent, organized, and rational,” I said, and believe me, I know I sounded deranged. But I think by now it’s been amply established: I don’t react well in threatening or stressful settings.
David scoffed, confused by my attitude. “Being diligent, organized, and rational is a bad thing now?”
“Can you two stop bickering and pay attention!” Fred yelled. He was visibly exasperated, and I didn’t blame him. David can have that effect on people.
“What do you want, Fred?” You have to admit, it was my rightful line to deliver. Also, I sounded bored, which made Fred twitch with annoyance. That alone made it the most worthwhile.
“I’m here to make a statement for that article the two of you have written,” he said. I didn’t see that one coming.
“A statement?” David double-checked and, I kid you not, he started looking around for a notebook and pen. He could have found them expediently as I keep writing utensils scattered all over the house, but instead he took his cell phone and pointed it to Fred. “Care if I take notes?”
“Go ahead. I want to know what’s all this BS you’ve written in your article where it says: ‘The motives behind Appleton’s actions were not clear at the time of publication.’”
“Apologies for that, we should have probably tried contacting you and asking for a comment,” David said. “We just didn’t think you would as you were being chased down by the police. Care to make a comment now? We can add it to the article.”
“Oh my god! You’re so annoying! Don’t reason with the psycho!” I told David.
“Elena, don’t antagonize the psycho,” David said, patiently.
“I’m not a psycho!” Fred protested.
“I’m sorry for the inappropriate use of language,” David said, and I rolled my eyes harder than I’d done in years. Probably in my entire life. And I’m an avid eye-roll practitioner. “You were saying you wanted to make a comment?”
I was going to protest again at David’s incapability of leaving his work alone even in the most extreme of circumstances, but he grabbed my hand with his free one and squeezed it. I understood right away:I’m just trying to make some time. Please stop antagonizing the psycho. I’m scared too, but we’ll get through this. Together.
I shut up even if I would have gladly continued telling Fred a thing or two he probably didn’t want to hear.
