Sinfully Delicious

by Amanda M. Lee

  The kitten looked as if he was frowning.

  “We both know I don’t have the guts to do that,” I offered. “I think we’re stuck here ... for a long while.”

  The kitten went back to kneading.

  “I guess it’s not so bad,” I murmured as I went back to stroking his soft head. My eyes drifted back to the television. I’d only had half an ear on the show since I sat down. It was mindless, not hard to keep up on, and I sank back into the flow of the episode.

  A few minutes later, a soft scraping sound had me lifting my chin and glancing around. The cat was on my lap, staring at the kitchen. As far as I knew, there was nothing in the restaurant below me that could make that sound. The only equipment, the refrigerators and freezers, emitted a low hum.

  I listened for a moment, but the sound didn’t repeat. I managed to push it out of my head and refocus on the television when it happened a second time. I hit the mute button on the remote and stared at the kitchen. I was almost certain that the noise had originated from the back balcony, and given the discussion Hunter and I had had this afternoon, the realization was enough to make my stomach clench.

  I risked a glance at the kitten and found he was alert and staring in the direction of the sound. That indicated I wasn’t imagining the phenomenon. Sure, he was a cat, but he was a compelling witness as far as I was concerned.

  My fingers shook as I closed out of the banking app and scrolled for Hunter’s name on my contact list. He’d insisted on programming his number into my phone earlier so I had someone to call in an emergency. That was looking fortuitous.

  “Hello?” He sounded confused on the other end of the call.

  “It’s me.” My mouth was dry.

  “I figured that out when I saw your name pop up on the screen.” He waited a beat. “Do you need something?”

  “Who is that?” a female voice asked in the background. She sounded agitated.

  He was still with Monica. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told me it was barely ten. Of course he was still with her. They were probably spending the night together.

  “Is something wrong?” he repeated, drawing my attention back to the call.

  “I ... .” What was I supposed to say here? Sure, he’d told me to call if I was afraid or ran into trouble. That wasn’t fair to him, though. He had a life. I wasn’t his responsibility. I hadn’t been for a really long time.

  “It’s nothing,” I said finally, feeling like an idiot. “I’m probably imagining it. I’m sorry to ruin your evening. Tell Monica ... tell her whatever you think she should know. I really am sorry.”

  He didn’t let me hang up. “Hold on.” I could hear him murmuring in the background, the sound muffled as if he had his hand over the phone. He returned to the call within a few seconds. “Is something happening?” His voice stronger this time.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tell me what’s happening,” he growled.

  “I thought I heard something by the sliding glass doors,” I admitted. There was no going back now. “The cat heard it, too.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m too afraid to look,” I said. “What if there really is someone out there?”

  He was silent for several seconds. When he spoke again, it was in a determined voice. “Don’t go to the door. Wait there. I’m about eight minutes from you. I’ll come up through the back alley with my lights going to scare whoever it is away.”

  Eight minutes seemed a long time. “Maybe I should get a knife from the kitchen.”

  “Or maybe you should go down into the restaurant and lock yourself in a bathroom on the main floor.”

  That sounded like a terrible idea. “I ... .”

  “Just stay where you are as long as you can,” he instructed. “I’m on my way. If someone tries coming through that door, I want you to escape into the restaurant. Don’t try to be a hero.”

  What he said made sense and the fear coursing through me was real. “Hunter ... .”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He was insistent. “Just ... hold on. I’m on my way.”

  FOR FOUR MINUTES AFTER WE disconnected I sat on the couch and stared at the dark kitchen. I didn’t hear a single noise, and the kitten went to sleep. I was starting to feel a bit foolish because I hadn’t heard the sound again — how was I supposed to explain that to Hunter? — when I heard it again.

  This time the kitten hopped off my lap and stalked toward the kitchen. It was as if he intended to protect me even though he weighed less than a pound and had to struggle to climb the single step that led to the elevated room.

  “Where are you going?” I hissed, hopping onto shaking legs as I found my voice. I couldn’t let the kitten cross to the sliding glass doors. Something bad could happen to him if somebody really did decide they were coming through. “Come back here.”

  I felt as if I was walking on legs that had been somehow affixed to my body through shoddy means. My feet felt alien as they slapped against the linoleum and it was awkward every time I bent down in an attempt to scoop up the kitten. I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but occasionally I felt his tail brushing against my legs.

  “Stop messing around,” I hissed. “I don’t have time for this. In fact ... .” I froze when I saw a hint of movement on the other side of the glass. I’d almost forgotten the fear until that moment ... and then it came roaring back with a vengeance.

  I stared at the spot where I saw the movement and tried to will myself to come up with a rational explanation for what I was seeing. It was a plastic bag that had somehow gotten away from the grocery store and was blowing in the wind. It was one of my cousins — probably Alice — messing with me. It was my mother coming to tell me what a failure I was again.

  There was someone else out there. Someone who could very well be a killer. And as I stared at the silhouette, I realized the noise I was hearing was someone trying to open the door. There was nowhere for the slider to go, though, because of the broom handle in the track.

  The figure moved closer and beat a hand on the glass, causing me to fall back on my rear end. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might actually pop out of my chest and flee. I let loose a strangled sound that caused the cat to screech as the figure on the other side of the door doubled his or her efforts to get inside.

  “Go away!” I bellowed in an attempt to scare my uninvited guest, but despite my best attempt, my voice came out in a squeak.

  The figure started tugging again.

  “Go away.” I didn’t know what to do other than search for the cat. If I could find him, we could flee downstairs. Hunter was only a few minutes away. He would scare away whoever it was. “Where are you?” I asked helplessly as I felt around for the kitten. Even though I wanted to run, I couldn’t leave him.

  The figure on the other side of the door used both hands now to try to beat through the glass. The noise was enough to have my throat clogging. “Stop it!” I shouted. The feeling I’d had the night before, the sensation that something was trapped inside of me and was trying to get out, returned. This time the thing that escaped was a huge bolt of light ... and it barreled directly for the figure on the balcony.

  I was so surprised I didn’t bother staring at the individual’s features. Instead I simply watched the light fly through the window unimpeded and collide with the silhouette.

  There was a sound — a cry of pain maybe — and then the figure was staggering down the stairs. I remained rooted to my spot, watching with dumbfounded disbelief. After a few seconds, I crept closer to the door so I could look out. I could feel the stairs vibrating as my late-night visitor made his escape, and as soon as he cleared the stairs the figure bolted across the alley and toward the woods. That was the last thing I saw as the alley exploded in a sea of red and blue light.

  It was Hunter. He’d arrived, just as he said.

  His left the cruiser running in the alley as he threw open the door. He was too far away to see his face, but from the way
he stared I was almost positive he’d seen someone flee into the woods. I thought he might follow, but instead he bolted up the stairs toward my balcony.

  My fingers shook as I messed with the light switch, trying to flip it on. When I finally did, Hunter was at the top of the stairs. He looked relieved to see me.

  It took me two tries to get the broomstick out of the track and open the door. When I did, I practically tumbled through the opening as Hunter pulled me in for a hug.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered, stroking the back of my head.

  “Someone was out there.”

  “I know. I saw a shadow when I was pulling up. I was going to chase him, but ... I had to check on you.” He didn’t release his grip, instead rubbing his cheek against mine as he held me tight. “I don’t know what you did to get that big light to come on like that, but it was smart. It scared him away.”

  I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to talk about the light. “Did you see who it was?”

  “No. You don’t have to worry, though. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  I believed him and yet he couldn’t fix everything. He couldn’t explain what was happening. Things were spiraling now, and I wasn’t certain I would ever be able to get back to the way things used to be.

  What was happening?

  23

  Twenty-Three

  Hunter checked the woods, but by the time he got there the shadow was long gone. He prowled my apartment after, checking the sliding glass door at least ten times before declaring he was spending the night on the couch.

  I was dumbfounded. “Do you think that’s really necessary?”

  “Yes.” The tilt of his chin told me that there was no changing his mind, so I grabbed a blanket and pillow from the closet and made sure he was settled before retiring to my bedroom.

  I couldn’t decide if knowing he was in the apartment was better or worse. I felt safer with him serving as a barrier should someone try to break in again. But all I could think about was the fact that he was in my apartment, right outside the door, close enough to touch.

  I tossed for hours, finally dragging myself from the bed to stand at the edge of the living room and stare at him. The light from outside was dim, but it illuminated his face. As if sensing me, he shifted and looked up. We shared a long, mournful stare. Then, wordlessly, he lifted the blanket and shifted to make room.

  I had a decision to make, and it wasn’t hard. I crawled in next to him, shivering as he tucked the blanket around us and held me tight.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured, his breath hot on my ear. “I promise. We’ll ... figure it out.”

  I wanted to ask exactly what he thought we were going to figure out, but this was not the time for a heavy discussion. “I’m sorry for all of this. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

  “I’m a police officer. It is my job.” His body was warm next to mine. “Go to sleep, Stormy. In addition to getting you blinds, I’ll upgrade the security system on that door tomorrow. I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

  “Okay.” Something occurred to me. “Do you still snore?”

  He chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “Does it matter?”

  “No, but I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  “Then batten the hatches. I think you’re going to be happy.”

  HE DID INDEED STILL SNORE. I slept harder than I had in years, though, despite the upheaval of the previous night. When I woke, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. I felt warm and safe and happy.

  And then he shifted.

  “You’re awake,” I realized. The lack of snores should’ve been a giveaway.

  “I am.”

  I rolled so I could see his face, almost sighing when I caught sight of the morning stubble and lazy smile. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Surprisingly, yeah. I didn’t even stir once I went down.”

  “Me either. I didn’t dream. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

  “You used to say that you got your story ideas from dreams.” He pushed my hair from my eyes, making me realize it was probably standing on end in a hundred different directions. He didn’t seem to care, so I didn’t either.

  “I haven’t gotten story inspiration in a long time.” Even though I was ridiculously comfortable, I strained to a sitting position and studied the clock. “I have to be downstairs in thirty minutes.”

  “Morning shift again?” His lips curved into a smirk. “I take it from that look on your face that you’re still not a morning person.”

  “I hate mornings. Grandpa is making me stay on them until he’s convinced I don’t need supervision. He’s a mean dude when he wants to be.”

  Hunter barked out a laugh. “He’s a pretty decent guy.”

  “Then why is he making me work mornings when he knows I hate them?”

  “Have you ever considered that he wants you close? You’ve been gone a long time. You’re one of his favorites, though he’d never admit to having favorites.”

  “The boys are his favorites.”

  “On the surface, yes. He’s closer with the boys, like David, because he thinks he should be. But he favors you.”

  “He has a funny way of showing it.”

  Hunter’s hand moved to my back so he could lightly rub. “I still think he loves you.”

  “Of course he loves me. We’re family. You have to love family, even when you don’t like them.”

  “Fine. I think he likes you, too. You’re just determined to be hard on yourself right now, so there’s no point in continuing this conversation. Hopefully, when things settle a bit, you’ll realize what a pain you’re being and get over it.”

  I shot him a look. “I’m not being a pain.”

  “Oh, you’re being a pain.” He poked my side and grinned. “You’ve always been this way. You’re a crab in the morning, but I think there’s more going on here than just that.”

  He was right. “Do you ever think things are so bad there’s no way they can ever get better?”

  It was a serious question, and the way the smile slid from his face told me he was going to give it a serious answer. “Only once.”

  “With your dad?” I felt like an idiot. He’d gone through so much. Of course he felt that way as a kid.

  “No. I knew I would get away from my father if I could somehow survive for a few years. When you and I got together, the escapes were easier. The dreams were easier, too. I saw the way your family was and knew there was more out there.”

  The reaction was so earnest it shocked me into silence.

  “The only time I felt like there was no way out was when I lost you.” He shimmied to the end of the couch and refused to meet my gaze. “It took a long time to crawl out from that hole. I did, though. Eventually. You’ll do the same. You just need to ... breathe. I don’t think you’re allowing yourself to relax even a little bit.”

  “How can I when there are strange people trying to get into my apartment?”

  “I plan to make sure that’s impossible after today, so you can’t continue to use that as an excuse.”

  I decided to remind him one more time that I wasn’t his responsibility. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have things that need to be done in your own life.” Like Monica, who was probably spitting mad.

  “Don’t start.” He pinned me with a look. “This is going to happen. I’m not leaving this apartment until I’m sure you’ll be safe. Just ... stop arguing about it.”

  Another glance at the clock told me I had no choice in that matter. “Well, thank you.” I grunted as I found my footing. “I think I might be too old to sleep on the couch like we just did.”

  That was enough to earn another smile. “Yes, you’re old and decrepit.”

  “Sometimes I feel that way.”

  “Well, get over it.” He was firm. “Your life is still at the beginning. Once you realize that, you’ll start looking forward instead of back. T
hat will be a great day.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  GRANDPA WAS BEHIND THE GRILL. The look he shot me was unreadable.

  “I’m on time,” I said automatically. Sure, my hair was still wet and I’d whipped it back in a braid to keep it out of my face, but I wasn’t late.

  “I’m well aware.” His eyes returned to the stairs, as if waiting for someone else to come down.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, confused.

  “You know who I’m looking for.”

  My stomach did a jittery jig. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was never the smoothest of liars.

  “Oh, geez.” Grandpa rolled his eyes until they landed on me. “His car is in the alley. I’ve already heard from the grocery store people that it was there all night. Don’t bother denying it. Everyone in town already knows.”

  The blood started rushing through my ears as I tried to wrap my brain around what he was saying. “But ... .” On wooden legs, I moved to the back door and looked out. Sure enough, Hunter’s cruiser was parked exactly where he’d left it. I’d completely forgotten about it.

  “The Sysco deliveryman is coming in twenty minutes,” Grandpa noted. “He needs to park there. If Hunter is planning on sneaking out via the back steps, you might ask him to get a move on.”

  My mouth was unnaturally dry. “I ... nothing happened.” I blurted it out before thinking. “He was just helping me with something.”

  “I know exactly what he was helping you with.” Grandpa didn’t boast even a hint of a smile. “Did he at least break up with his girlfriend?”

  “Nothing happened,” I repeated, panic starting to creep in. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

  “No? I thought nothing happened. If it’s so innocent, why are you so worked up?”

  “Because it’s not fair to Hunter.” I didn’t care about my reputation. His was a different story. “If people in this town start talking ... .” I trailed off, horrified at the prospect.