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Corrupt Page 11
Author: Penelope Douglas

Trailing slowly down the hallway, I wandered in and out of all the rooms, finding the spacious bathroom with a double vanity and a slate-tiled shower. Swinging open cabinets next to the sink, I noticed towels and wash clothes stocked and ready, as well as a loofah.

And then, trailing into the master bedroom, I noticed that is was already set up with a king-sized bed and furniture that matched the white bedding and drapes. The damn clock on the nightstand was already set, too.

Unbelievable. Everything was done for me. Just like at home.

The décor may be slightly different, and the scenery had certainly changed, but my life hadn’t. Everything was taken care of already. I’d even bet that if I opened the refrigerator, I’d find that stocked, as well.

Got to hand it to those Thunder Bay mothers making sure one of their princesses was tucked in all tight. There’s no way this was a welcome committee just leaving a basket of fruit.

I shook my head, feeling the walls close in.

The women in Thunder Bay were busy ladies. They were powerful, influential, and thorough, and as their children, we sat comfortably under that umbrella. I even more so, because my father was deceased, and my mother was…weak.

As a kid, I’d appreciated the safety of the shelter they provided, but I wanted to do things for myself now. Space, distance, and maybe a little trouble. That’s what I was looking for.

I let out a sigh and slipped the keys into the pocket of my white jean shorts. Grabbing the hem of my black sweater, I pulled it up and over my head, leaving me in my short-sleeved gray T-shirt.

Walking back through the apartment, I stepped across the open threshold from the living room and into the courtyard, my toes in my black flip-flops touching the grass. Gazing around the expansive area, I noticed that it was designed in the shape of a rectangle, with one long side open to offer a view of the city.

To my left, I saw more windows, probably belonging to the vacant apartment I shared the floor with. And then, turning right, my gaze drifted up, up, up, and I craned my neck to see the floor above me, whose residence curved around the side of the building, making the windows partly visible from here.

It also appeared to have more than one balcony and a perfect view into the courtyard. I wondered if a family live there, to need so much space, but then I remembered Mr. Patterson saying “he.”

I let my gaze linger on his windows, realizing I wasn’t alone up here, after all.

I BLINKED AWAKE, the blanket of sleep weighing heavy as I lay on my stomach hugging my pillow.

My ears perked, hearing a tapping sound coming from somewhere far away.

Tap, tap, tap…tap…tap

I leaned up on my arms, trying to bring my eyes into focus.

Was that knocking? But who would be knocking? I didn’t know anyone here—not yet anyway. I’d just arrived today, and I didn’t have any neighbors…

And—I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand—it was after one in the morning.

Turning over, I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, slowly feeling the fogginess dissipate.

I thought for sure that I’d heard knocking. Like a steady thumping.

I looked around me, the moonlight streaming in from the window and falling across the white sheets as I listened for any sound in the silence of the still and dark apartment.

But then a loud thud hit, and I jumped, sucking in a breath. Throwing off the sheets, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

That wasn’t a knock.

Clutching the phone in my hand, I slowly tiptoed across my bedroom floor, listening for another sound and searching my brain, trying to remember if I’d locked all the doors. The front, the glass partition to the courtyard, and…

Had I locked the rear entrance? Yeah. Yeah, of course I had.

But then the thud hit again, and I halted. What the hell?

It was dull and heavy, like deadweight falling, and I had no idea if it was above me, below me, or next to me.

I crept down the hallway, into the living room and past the load of paint supplies I’d bought earlier today. I may not have gotten the tiny apartment I wanted or been able to buy my own pots and pans, but I could sure as hell make this place mine with a little color.

Jogging silently into the kitchen, I grabbed a knife out of the block and fisted the handle, the blade facing behind me as I approached the front door. I still wasn’t sure where the sound came from, but common sense told me to check the entrances.

I peered through the peephole, every hair on my arms standing on end. As much as I’d wanted to be on my own, I was a little freaked out about that now.

Arching up on my tiptoes, I peered through the hole, spotting the elevator a few feet down the hall and the soft flicker of the sconces.

But there was nothing and no one visible. The hallway appeared empty.

I jerked my head behind me as the booming thuds sounded again.

I fell back to my feet and crept through my apartment as I listened to the pounding that had now become a steady attack. My feet followed the sound, stepping absently closer to it, and I finally pressed my ear against the wall leading to my hallway, my heart racing as the vibrations touched my skin.

Resting my cheek against the surface, I swallowed the tight lump in my throat as the thumping against the wall grew faster and faster.

There was someone over there. In the empty apartment.

Holding up my phone, I dialed the office downstairs but got no answer. I knew there was a night manager named Simon Something-Or-Other, but I didn’t think many people were on duty at night. He must be away from his desk.

I continued listening, wondering if I could ignore it and just wait until morning to ask the manager about it, but the further down the hall I travelled, the louder it got until I was standing next to the rear entrance.

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Penelope Douglas's Novels
» Punk 57
» Corrupt
» Falling Away (Fall Away #3)
» Aflame (Fall Away #4)
» Until You (Fall Away #1.5)
» Bully (Fall Away #1)