I scrunch my nose again and squint through the tiny gaps before I huff, “Norman is lucky I love him so much.”
If I didn’t, I’d be launching these big ass pots over the railing. Which wouldn’t help my cause at all but this is ridiculous.
Probably not as ridiculous as a grown ass woman wearing nothing but a silk kimono while she crawls along her balcony spying on people like a lunatic. God help me if the breeze kicks up. At least I own this building, and the ones on either side of it shouldn’t be able to see into my balcony.
Hopefully.
I move closer to the railing, still trying to see through all the green but I can’t, not clearly enough to get any details on that ridiculous sports car so I keep going.
Inching my way along the thick rug covering the concrete, I keep coming up short so once I’m at the back corner farthest from the French doors, I decide to try something else. I go up on my knees and peek over the iron bars, barely poking my head up high enough to see anything, check for the Lambo then start grabbing the pots in the corner.
Slowly and as quietly as possible, I move two smaller ones, placing them behind me toward the wall. The medium pot scrapes along the cement and I cringe, glancing above the railing to see if anyone heard that, specifically the car below that doesn’t have ears.
I roll my eyes at how stupid I’m being, how stupid this entire scenario is as I finish moving the pot before I grab the edge of the biggest one that’s right up against the bars.
Only to frown when my hands are in front of me.
“What the hell…” There’s a smudge of red on the back of my right one so I turn them both over to see that palm and my left fingers are also red.
I swallow hard as I start to shake, reaching for the large piece of ceramic I now realize is streaked in the same sticky liquid.
It’s probably paint.
I’m sure that’s it.
What else would it be?
We have construction going on in the building, maybe some of the guys came out here to assess something and they had red paint on their clothes.
That’s probably what happened, I mean, I’m overreacting so that has to be it. Even if it seems really strange that Lucky would let anyone into the loft without taking off their shoes or making sure they wouldn’t track anything through the living room. He was probably across the hall when it happened so…
My stomach drops and my heart starts pounding in my ears as soon as I finish moving the plant out of the way, and see an entire puddle ofblood.
The sticky red liquid is all over the back of the ceramic planter, the railing, and as I follow it up the ivy covered trellis between my apartment and the one across the hall, I scream.
I scream at the top of my lungs as I scramble backward, tears springing to my eyes as they land on thedecapitated headof a goddamn goat. It’s hanging there by the horns, the big curved pieces stuck in the ivy, its tongue flopped out of an open mouth. Part of the spinal column is still attached, some long stringy pieces of it’s insides dangling around the bones, all of it dripping a steady stream of blood all over my balcony.
But what has me most freaked out, what has almost guttural sobs heaving from my chest, are the eyes.
The eyes have been torn out even though they’re still inside the sockets, and holding them in place are Lucky’s father’s drumsticks.
Drumsticksare sticking out of the decapitated head of a goat on my balcony, and the sound of Markus yelling for me as he comes charging through the doors is the last thing I hear before I pass the hell out.
26
LEONOR
With another slow, steady breath, I twist my wet hair up on my head and clip it in place.
My heart rate has finally slowed down, my hands have quit shaking, and the fear and panic I felt right before I blacked out is finally nothing more than a low hum in the back of my mind.
It probably helps that I took my anxiety meds as soon as we got here but I’m not sure that’s the only reason I’ve calmed down. They don’t generally last this long, not after a blackout without another dose, and since it’s been a few hours I doubt they’re still actively working through my system.
No, I honestly think I’m as close to normal as I’m going to get because Markus came to my rescue and didn’t waste any time getting me the fuck out of my building, and I know the rest of my boys are on top of handling whatever the hell is going on.
“Knock, knock.” I glance over my shoulder as Justine pushes the bedroom door open the rest of the way, her smile turning from worried to relieved when she sees me. “I brought you some tea.”
I drop my hands to the mattress and grip the edge, squeezing it briefly before I shift around and scoot back onto the bed. “Peppermint?”
