Not that anyone would really notice us. Most of the residents in this building work during the day, so they’re out, but the few that are home and milling around in the halls look high or drunk. Or both. I grit my teeth. After we take care of David, I know for a fact that I’m going to get Eva out of here. She deserves better than to live in such a shithole.
We wind up the staircase silently and in a line, each of us on high alert. I don’t think that her ex is smart enough to keep a look out for us, but I don’t want to risk him making a run for it and coming up on us in the staircase.
Finally, we reach her floor, and I pause, looking through the small window into the hall. Nobody’s there. A single light halfway down the hall is on the fritz, and it keeps dimming and then getting brighter without any warning. The whole thing feels surreal, but knowing that it’s all for Eva spurs me on.
I realize with a start that I’m willing to do anything for her. Taking care of her ex and getting her out of this apartment so that I can keep her safe is just one of the things that I’m happy to do. She’s worth it, and more, and I grit my teeth as I look down the hall.
Her apartment is all the way on the end, but unlike the bottom floor where we came in, there isn’t anyone milling around outside the apartments here. That’s good, because it means that we can act quickly without worrying about running into anyone or having to move them out of the way first.
Our family is relentless when we’re threatened, but the one thing that we don’t believe in is hurting innocent bystanders. It just makes it a hell of a lot easier when we don’t have to worry about how we’re going to avoid putting someone innocent in danger.
Silently I gesture down the hall, and everyone follows me. We’re silent, moving like one, and I know that there’s no way he’ll hear us coming. Once we reach the door, we split up, half of us on one side in the hall, the other going to the other side. Nobody stands directly in front of it. We all know better than to put ourselves at risk like that.
Taking a deep breath, I reach out carefully and try the handle. Chances are damn good that it’s locked, but when I spoke to the ex earlier, he didn’t sound like he was playing with a full deck, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left it open by accident. The handle moves and, with a slight click, the door opens.
Slowly I push it open, taking my time to avoid any loud creaks or squeaks that may occur. It’s silent inside the apartment, but even from here, I can see that the lights are on. He’s in there, the bastard, and we’re going to take care of him.
When he doesn’t come running for the door to stop us, I slowly push the door wider, then slip inside the crack. I don’t even have to look behind me to know that my family is following me. Pops is right behind me. He has my back, and the rest of them bring up the rear.
The apartment is smaller than I thought it would be, and it’s shitty, although I can see a few things that Eva has brought into it to try to make it more comfortable and homey. Although I’d love to stop and look at her pictures on the walls and check out her music collection, I don’t want to get caught with my pants down, so once we clear the living room, I lead us into the kitchen.
Water’s dripping in the sink and there’s a hot mug of coffee on the counter. He’s in here, and he’s closer, but I still don’t have any reason to think that he knows we’ve arrived.
The kitchen leads into a small hall. When I glance down it, I see two doors, which are both closed. It’s likely that the closest one is the bathroom, and when I try the handle, the doors swings open to show me just that.
Carefully, I pull the shower curtain back, but he’s not hiding in there. The bathroom is so small and cramped that I’m the only one fitting in it, and it’s obvious that he’s not here.
Arlo gestures at the closed door down the hall and I nod. Yeah, the bedroom. We got it.
This time, when I try to open the door, it’s met with a little resistance. I don’t throw myself into it, not yet. I know that he’s in there. The door could be sticking because it’s such a crappy old building, but it’s much more likely that he’s figured out that we’re coming for him and has blocked it somehow.
Bedroom furniture would be a bed, a dresser, possibly a nightstand…it’s a dresser. If I close my eyes, I can almost see what he’s done, even though I’ve never been in her room before. He knows we’re here and he’s pushed her dresser up against the door to stop us.
Fuck. I’m so angry that my blood is boiling and I gesture at my family to duck down. Leaning forward, I rap on the door with my pistol, the sound so loud in the quiet of the apartment that it makes my ears hurt.
“Open up, David.” My voice is clear and strong. I’m not nervous, haven’t been since we got here and I got out of the car. Right now all I want to do is find this motherfucker and take care
