KACE
My footsteps beat against the concrete as I force myself down the sidewalk. The urge to look back over my shoulder is strong, but I press my body forward, knowing I don’t have much time.
My heart is racing, the adrenaline inside my veins pumping madly throughout my body as I move quickly through the streets, ducking around innocent people who have no idea what’s about to happen. It excites me.
I’ve never felt fear, fear is weak.
I am not weak.
I relish in watching strong men crumble to their knees, knowing there’s no way they can fight me.
Just as I stop across the road from the apartment building where I’ve lived for the past month, my phone begins to vibrate in my pocket. I take it out, not bothering to look at the caller ID before holding it to my ear. “Yeah.”
“Is it done?” they ask.
Just then, the ground begins to rumble, and a loud burst of noise fills the streets around me, smothering the sounds of cars and prompting high-pitched screams. This time, I allow myself to look over my shoulder watching as smoke begins to fill the air, tainting the bright blue sky an awful shade of gray.
Alarms ring out around me, and I rush to cross the street, hurrying inside and down the corridor to my apartment. “It’s done. No one’s coming out of there alive.”
I pull the phone from my ear and end the call, slipping it back into my pocket.
It’s done.
LILY
“Boring. Boring. Boring.”
I shove my spoon into my mouth, flipping through the channels on the television as I eat my cereal. There’s really nothing on in the mornings apart from the news and stupid cartoons. I look down at my PJs, knowing I’m probably not going to change until at least lunchtime since it’s my day off.
“Netflix it is, I guess,” I mutter to myself while reaching for the other remote.
Just as my fingers touch it, a loud boom startles me, and my half eaten cereal flies off my lap and onto the floor as I leap into the air. My heart races, and I grip the sofa cushion in my hand, wondering what the hell just happened.
Do I get up and run, try to find help? Or do I stay completely still, struck with fear?
Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I move slowly, climbing off the couch and tiptoeing over the spilled milk and Fruit Loops heading for the balcony. Before I even reach it, I see the smoke billowing into the air outside.
“Oh my hell,” I whisper, moving into the small doorway.
It’s coming from a few blocks away, and there are already sirens blaring, some sounding like building alarms, other police cars, and ambulances.
Running back inside, I dive onto the sofa and struggle to grasp the remote in my hand, my fingers failing to do their job as they shake with fear. Finally finding the right channel, the news reporter stares straight into the camera, her eyes wide, most likely reflecting my own.
“Breaking news… some kind of explosion has just hit in downtown Washington DC. There isn’t a lot of information available, but we’ll keep you updated as it filters in.”
“Shit!” I swear, leaping up and running out my front door, into the long hallway of my apartment building. My eyes search the hall, not even sure of what I’m doing but looking for someone who might know something or at least be able to keep me calm. But it’s completely deserted.
I consider banging on doors, feeling like I really don’t want to be alone at the moment.
On hearing the door at the end of the hall open, my eyes immediately swing to it, my body sighing with a breath of relief. When I see him rushing toward me, my heart starts to race again, but for a whole new reason.
For the last month, since he moved in, he’s never offered me more than a quick hello. Never a name and most definitely not an occupation. He’s a mystery, one that my best friend, Molly, is completely obsessed with. Well, more with wanting to fuck him, she doesn’t care if he even has a name.
He rushes down the hall toward me, his hand tucking a cell phone into his pocket with his head down. He’s wearing a tight black shirt and black pants, the dark look seeming to suit him perfectly.
I must look stupid, standing outside my door in my pajamas looking disheveled and confused. I open my mouth to talk as he moves closer, wanting to ask him if he’s okay, or if he knows what the hell is going on outside, but it’s dry with nerves, and my lips won’t form the words I want them to.
He looks up just before he reaches me, his blue eyes freezing my body as if they’re made of ice. A line of sweat runs across his brow, and his jaw looks like it’s clenched tightly. He brushes past me without a word, his heavy boots stomping against the wooden floors until he reaches his doorway next to mine. He opens it quickly, then slams it behind him, the loud bang jolting me from my stunned daze.
Shaking my body, I turn and rush back inside my apartment and close the door. I lean against it, trying to control my breathing. The sound of the news fills the room, the reporter rattling on about an explosion, a bomb, possibly terrorists, while a video of a building not far from me bursts into flames.
“Terrorists,” I whisper. My knees begin to shake as I slowly slip down the door to the floor. “Oh my hell.”
I hear a raised voice through the wall, and my eyes shoot up. I stare as if I can see through it, wanting to know just what he’s doing in there.
Is he scared like I am?
I snort. No way.
I may not know him well, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the few times I’ve seen him around, he won’t be scared.
I’m flustered just thinking about hi —sexy, strong, so many muscles. The way his short brown hair spikes on his head screams at me to run my fingers through it. At first, I’ve kept my distance, knowing that he doesn’t seem like a man that I want to screw with. His blue eyes always seem so intense, and the way he holds himself is with strength and power. In the month he’s been here, and the few times I’ve seen him, I’m drawn to him. There’s something about him, a presence, a pull. I don’t know what it is, but I want to know more. It’s almost an infatuation. If he’s in the hall, and I see him, I can’t look away.
Then, one day downstairs, I saw him carrying an older resident’s groceries to her apartment, and when she thanked him and patted his arm, he smiled.
And holy hell was it a smile beautiful straight teeth and a dimple on his left cheek.
I felt a strange feeling of excitement build in my stomach as I’d imagined it.
Since then, I wasn’t scared.
I was intrigued.
I wanted to know who he was, what he did, where he was from.
Everything about him built questions in my mind, but every time I saw him, I froze.
Who is he?
I had no idea, but I’m desperate to find out.
