Dead Pretty

by Samantha Towle

There’s no outline of light around the door, meaning the lights are out in the hall too.

  Breaths are panting out of me. Reaching the door in no time, I grab the handle and yank it open.

  And a dark figure is standing there.

  I don’t scream.

  Instead, I yell, “Fire!” at the top of my lungs. Because that always brings people running.

  Self-defense class taught me that screaming or calling for help will bring no one. But yell fire—actual danger—and people will come running straight toward it.

  Then, I clench my fist and punch upward as hard as I can, upper-cutting, hoping to connect with some part of the person’s body. But it’s dark, and I can’t see a goddamn thing.

  I hit bone—chin, I think—and pain explodes in my hand.

  I hear a grunt of pain and then, “What the fuck, Audrey!”

  Jack.

  It’s Jack. And I just punched him in the face.

  “What the hell are you doing, standing outside my front door?” I snap at him. My heart is knocking so hard against my ribs that I expect one of them to break at any moment.

  “I knocked!” he exclaims. “I just wanted to check if your lights were out too!”

  He knocked on my door?

  I must not have heard him when I was too busy freaking out over the rat.

  The big, dead rat that’s still in my apartment.

  Fuck.

  “We have to get out of here.” I try to shove him backward, so I can get past him, but he’s not budging.

  Two strong hands curl around my upper arms, gripping them, stopping me. “Audrey, what the hell is going on?” His voice is gentle but firm.

  “There’s—” I cut off, my jaw clenching tightly shut. Because what am I going to say? There’s a deceased rat in my apartment, and because of that, I think someone is here to kill me?

  If Jack doesn’t already think I’m crazy, he most definitely would if I said that.

  “Nothing. Nothing’s going on. You just startled me.”

  “Audrey, you just screamed fire, punched me in the face, and then told me that we have to get out of here, so when you say nothing is going on, I kinda find that hard to believe. That, and the fact that your whole body is shaking.”

  I’m shaking?

  It takes me a second to realize that he’s right. And also that his hands are still holding on to my arms.

  I step back out of his grasp and wrap my arms around myself to stave off the trembling in my body. “Well, it’s the truth. Nothing is wrong.”

  There’s a brief pause and then a flicker of illumination from a cell phone screen before a bright light in the form of a phone flashlight comes on.

  And I see Jack’s face for the first time tonight.

  The face I just punched.

  “So, there isn’t a fire?” he says, eyes fixed on mine.

  “Nope.”

  “Why did you say there was?”

  “Because … you startled me. I thought maybe you were a robber, and the best way to get people’s attention to come and help is to yell fire.”

  Although I am just realizing that no one came running to my aid.

  Guess my neighbors don’t give a shit about a fire burning the building down.

  I am also still consciously aware of the dead rat and the fact that a psycho killer could be lurking somewhere close by.

  I hold off the shudder that wants to make its way through my body.

  Jack’s eyes briefly leave mine and stare over my shoulder, into the darkness behind me.

  “Look, I’m going to go downstairs to the super’s place and see what’s happening with the lights. Do you want to come with me?”

  Do I want to stay in my pitch-black apartment, alone with the dead rat and God knows who else? Or go downstairs with Jack?

  “Let’s go.”

  I close my apartment door behind me and walk down the darkened hallway with Jack, using his light to guide the way.

  Aside from the nerves flitting around my chest from being in the near dark, that ugly emotion that I hate so much starts to work its way in there too. Guilt.

  “Jack?”

  “Yep?”

  “I’m, uh … sorry that I punched you.”

  I hear a chuckle and then, “Apology accepted. You got me good though. Pretty sure I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble.

  “Where did you learn to hit like that?”

  “Krav Maga. I took some classes a while back.”

  “They clearly taught you well. I’m impressed.”

  We’ve just reached the stairs when the lights flicker back on, blinding me.

  “Jesus.” I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. I squint up at Jack, who seems to have no trouble adjusting to the light at all.

  He smiles at me. “Guess that saves us a trip downstairs.”

  “I guess so.”

  We both turn and walk back in the direction of our apartments.

  We reach Jack’s door first.

  “Sorry again.” I gesture to his face as he opens his door.

  He smiles again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I’ve been punched. Won’t be the last.”

  I laugh softly. “Night, Jack.”

  I walk the short distance to my door. Remembering exactly what is waiting for me inside it.

  My anxiety ramps up.

  It’s just a dead rat. It doesn’t mean anything bad is going to happen. I have to go back in my apartment at some point.

  It’s not like I can stay out here all night.

  I’ll just carry my rape alarm with me while I do my usual apartment check. And dispose of the rat.

  I reach my door.

  I didn’t lock it.

  I never forget to lock it.

  But then it wasn’t exactly a normal situation.

  There’s already a dead rat in there. It can’t get any worse.

  Okay, it can get worse. Like a psycho could be waiting for me in there.

  But I try not to freak myself out.

  I take a fortifying breath and swing open the door.

  My apartment is still pitch-black. Because I didn’t get a chance to turn any lights on.

  I reach my hand out, searching for the light switch on the wall. Finding it, I flick it on. But nothing happens.

  And that’s because your lightbulb blew out, dumbass.

  I don’t have a spare one in the apartment to replace it with either.

  Double, triple, and quadruple fuck.

  I can’t spend the whole night with the living room in darkness. I just can’t.

  What am I going to do?

  I could ask Jack if he has a spare bulb I could borrow.

  On a sigh, I lock the door behind me, walk over to Jack’s place, lift a hand, and knock on his door.

  The door swings open a few moments later.

  “Hey.” I give him an awkward smile. “You, uh, don’t happen to have a spare lightbulb I could borrow, do you?”

  “Yours blown?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m guessing we all have the same fittings, so, yeah, sure, give me a sec.” He goes back inside his apartment, leaving the door open and me in the hallway.

  I lean into the doorway. “I appreciate this,” I tell him. “I’ll go to the store first thing tomorrow morning and get you one to replace it.”

  “No need.” He appears back in the doorway. “Do you have a stepladder?”

  I give him a confused look. “No. Why?”

  His eyes drag up and down the length of me, and I forget to breathe for a moment. My pulse quickens, and I suddenly feel a lot warmer than I did a second ago.

  His eyes finally come back to mine. They look a lot darker than they did. “Well …” The word comes out croaky. He clears his throat. “Unless you can grow a good few feet in the next minute or so, you’re going to need one to reach the light fitting.”

  “Ah. Right. Yeah.” My cheeks are hot with em
barrassment—and also the stupid attraction I have to this guy.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got one.”

  He disappears again, giving my face and body a moment to cool down before he’s back again with a stepladder in his other hand.

  “Do you want me to replace the lightbulb for you?” he asks.

  He thinks I’m useless. He wouldn’t be wrong.

  “No. I’ve got it.” I reach out to take the stepladder and bulb from him. “I’ll bring the ladder back when I’m done.”

  “Who’s going to hold the flashlight for you?” he questions.

  “What?”

  “Flashlight,” he repeats, his arms folding across his broad chest.

  I wonder if his chest is smooth or has hair. I hope it has some hair.

  I hate smooth chests on men.

  Christ almighty. It’s not like I’m ever going to see his chest, so I don’t need to be thinking about it.

  “Why would I need someone to hold a flashlight for me? I’ve got a bulb right here to fix my light problem.” I lift said bulb up.

  He grins. His lips lifting at one corner, showing that dimple.

  I have the urge to press my finger into it.

  I really need to stop with the sexy thoughts.

  “So you can see to fit the lightbulb. I’m guessing your living room is in darkness. Wouldn’t want you falling off that ladder.”

  Duh. Of course. I’m such a dumbass at times.

  Instead of letting my idiocy or embarrassment get the better of me again, I grin and say, “You are, soldier. So, bring your phone. Unless you have a flashlight, of course. You seem to have everything else.”

  Another grin. “Ex-soldier. I’m a civilian now, remember? And actually, no, I don’t have a flashlight.”

  “I’m shocked.” I give a mock-surprised look.

  He shakes his head at me, but he’s smiling. “I lost my old one. Been meaning to buy a new one.”

  “Slacker.”

  “Says the woman without a lightbulb.”

  “Yeah. But I wasn’t a soldier. I have no concept of needing to be prepared.”

  “Everyone should be prepared. And do you really know how to change a lightbulb? Or should I expect another blackout?”

  “Hilarious.” I roll my eyes.

  He chuckles. “Come on, rookie. Let’s get your lightbulb changed.”

  He reaches out and takes the stepladder and bulb from my hands to carry them for me.

  I don’t argue. I let him do the gentlemanly thing.

  We walk in silence to my apartment.

  And in those moments, all I can think is … Were we actually flirting just then?

  How bad is it that I have no clue? I’m that out of practice.

  Not that I’m practicing anything with Jack. No matter how much my libido would like me to.

  I know Jack’s attracted to me. The fact that he asked me out last week clued me in on that one. And I’m definitely attracted to him.

  But nothing is ever going to happen between us.

  Just being friendly with him is breaking my own rules.

  We reach my door, and I hesitate.

  If Jack notices, he doesn’t say.

  Forcing my arm to move, I get my key from my pocket and unlock the door.

  As expected, it’s still pitch-black inside my apartment. Light from the hall illuminates the entryway.

  Jack turns on the Flashlight app on his cell and shines it into my apartment.

  “Leave the door open to give us a little extra light,” Jack says, and I nod in answer and leave it wide open.

  I go inside first, Jack following behind.

  Jack sets the stepladder below the light fixture. “You sure you don’t want me to replace the bulb for you?” he checks.

  I look up at the light, and it seems a lot higher than I first realized. But I made a whole deal out of being able to do it. So, I sigh and say, “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

  Jack shines the flashlight upward for me as I make my way up the steps. I reach up to remove the broken lightbulb. I get it out and hand it to Jack, and then I insert the new one.

  I did it. See, I’m not totally useless.

  “Done?” Jack asks.

  “Yep.” I smile to myself.

  He holds out a hand to help me back down the steps, shining the flashlight so I can see my way.

  I slide my hand in his. Heat sizzles up my arm. His palm is rough and warm, and his hand dwarfs mine.

  I have a flash of visions of what it would be like to have his hands all over my body.

  Jesus.

  I wish I could turn my attraction to him off. I have always been able to control everything in my life. Every emotion and feeling, I just shut it off. But this ever-growing attraction to Jack … it won’t seem to go away. I can see now that the only way to make it disappear is to not see him anymore.

  But since he lives on the same floor as me and comes into my place of work on a regular basis, I don’t see how it’s possible. Unless I quit my job and move.

  Which seems quite a drastic thing to do to squash my attraction to him.

  Nope. I’m just going to have to woman up and get past it.

  “Thanks,” I say to him through a mouth of cotton when my foot hits the floor of my living room.

  But I don’t remove my hand from his. And he doesn’t let go either.

  Remove your hand, Audrey, my brain issues the command.

  My body just isn’t complying.

  I’m too focused on the feel of his hand in mine.

  He moves his finger over the soft skin on the inside of my wrist.

  My body’s reaction is strong; my breath hitches, and there’s a tug in my belly.

  So much for womaning up and getting past my attraction to him.

  He slides his cell into his pocket, muting the light, and his free hand finds my hip. Fingers curling around it.

  My hands land on his biceps. “Jack.” His name comes out in a breathy whisper.

  My heart is pounding. It’s so loud that I’m sure he can hear it.

  He’s going to kiss me.

  And I’m going to let him.

  I really shouldn’t. But I can’t seem to remember the reasons why I should stop what’s about to happen.

  A door bangs from somewhere in the hallway, and I jerk out of Jack’s hold.

  It’s the wake-up call I needed.

  What the hell am I doing? I make rules for myself, and the minute a hot guy comes along, I throw them all out the window.

  I march over to the wall and flick the switch on, lighting up the whole room.

  Jack blinks over at me. He has a look on his face that I can’t fully decipher. But it looks like surprise.

  I’m assuming it’s because I broke whatever moment was about to happen between us.

  “Audrey …” His voice is dark and smoky, and I know he’s going to say something that I don’t want to hear.

  “Thanks for coming over to help me,” I say in a clear, steady voice.

  He stares at me for a beat.

  Just let it go, I silently plead.

  He seems to come to some decision in his mind. He nods and says, “No problem.” He folds up the stepladder.

  “I’ll replace your bulb tomorrow,” I say, needing to fill the tension-fueled air.

  “Audrey, it’s not a problem.”

  “No, I’ll replace it.” I’m firm with my words. I hate owing people anything.

  He nods again, accepting.

  Then, he moves toward me, passing by the bedroom hallway, and I know the exact moment that he spots the dead rat because he stops still and stares over at it.

  Shit!

  How the hell did I forget about it?

  Um … because your brain was overrun by your stupid sex hormones.

  “Audrey”—he turns to look at me—“did you know there’s a dead rat in your apartment?”

  Yes. No.

  Shit.

  Do I tell him that I knew? Or do
I play dumb?

  Won’t he wonder why I didn’t say something to him before?

  Oh, Jack, by the way, there’s a dead rat lying on my hallway floor.

  “No.” The lie is out of my mouth before I even truly knew I was going to say it. “Where is it?” I ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible. I walk over to where he is, stopping when the rat comes into my view. It’s even bigger than I first thought. “Oh God,” I say, feigning surprise.

  “I take it, it wasn’t a pet?” he jokes before he walks over to the rat, leaning the stepladder against the wall.

  But I’m really not in the mood for joking right now. I just wish he would leave, so I could get rid of the dead animal and put this whole shitty night behind me.

  “No,” I answer, following behind him.

  “It’s a big fucker,” he comments, crouching down beside it. “Looks like it broke its neck.”

  “Maybe it fell,” I offer up.

  Jack’s eyes lift to the solid plasterboard ceiling above our heads.

  “Or not,” I add quietly.

  “Weird that it broke its neck,” he muses.

  He’s right. It is weird. Rats’ necks just don’t break of their own accord.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Someone killed it. They wrung that poor rat’s neck and left it here for me to find.

  No. Stop it. Calm down.

  There is a rational explanation as to how that rat ended up in my apartment with a broken neck.

  There has to be.

  But truthfully, I’m not feeling confident in that theory.

  What I am is scared and stressed and confused.

  “And you didn’t put a rat trap down or anything?” Jack asks, unaware of my internal anguish.

  “No!” I snap, my anger and fear flying out of me and heading straight toward Jack. “I fucking told you that I didn’t know the damn rat was even here!”

  Jack pauses, his sharp eyes trained straight on me.

  Shit.

  I can feel my cheeks heat with guilt and shame. I move my eyes away from his, which is damn easy to do this time. “Look … I’m sorry I snapped. I’m just …” I thrust a hand through my hair. All I ever seem to be doing around Jack is apologizing. “I really appreciate you helping me out. But I’m tired and cranky. I’ve had a long day, and I just need to get some sleep.”

  “Okay,” he says in a low voice. “Do you need me to help dispose of the rat before I go?” he asks.

  He’s still being kind to me after I just bit his head off. Not to mention the fact that I punched the guy in the face earlier.