Twelve hours later, I really wished I’d forced those suckers down my throat. I still hadn’t been hungry at lunchtime, and dinner had consisted of a snack-sized bag of chips and a slice of cheese because I’d only had half an hour to get ready to leave again after I’d gotten home from my interview.
Taking the bus everywhere was cheap, but it definitely wasn’t convenient. Getting where I needed to be took forever—and I couldn’t be late for my first day at work—so I’d only given myself half an hour to change and grab a snack before I headed back to the bus stop. The trip shouldn’t take more than an hour, but I wanted plenty of buffer time in case anything went wrong. This job was my ticket out of my sister’s place, and I’d do whatever I needed to make sure I kept it. Showing up an hour early was a heck of a lot better than being late…or at least that was what I told myself as I neared the empty-looking building.
There wasn’t anyone within sight on the street when I tugged on the door, but I still heaved a deep sigh of relief at finding it unlocked. I hurried inside and shivered a little at the eerie silence in the lobby. Nobody was waiting behind the reception desk, and there wasn’t a security guard anywhere in sight. I had assumed someone would be here to watch over the place while we were working, but it seemed as though I was wrong.
Spotting a seating area to my left, I headed that way to wait for someone else on the cleaning crew when I heard the ding of an elevator. Changing direction was probably the wrong call, but I walked down the hallway toward the bank of elevators anyway. The doors slid closed before I rounded the corner, but I watched the number change as the car went up six floors.
Curious about who else was in the building with me, I pressed the up button and followed them upstairs. When I reached the sixth floor, I started to rethink my decision. The lighting in the hallway was dim, and the hairs on my arms felt as though they were standing straight up. I should’ve turned right around and gone back downstairs to wait until the start of my shift, but I followed the faint sounds coming from around the corner instead.
“Quit whining.”
I came to an abrupt stop at the sound of the deep masculine voice. The words implied irritation, but there was a teasing note that made me think he was just giving someone a hard time.
“I’m not whining, you motherfucker.”
The goose bumps that went up my spine had nothing to do with fear. That raspy voice somehow had a direct line to my core. I hadn’t even seen the guy yet, but I was reacting to him more than I ever had with anyone else before. Wanting to put a face to the voice, I started to move forward when he spoke again.
“If you hadn’t shot him in the head with a .45, we wouldn’t have such a big mess to clean up.”
It took a moment for the words to register in my brain. I came to a halt when they did, only a few steps from turning the corner.
Shot? Like with a bullet? Were these guys joking around about murdering someone?
“As I said, quit your whining. You have zero room to complain about anyone else being messy, considering how much of a slob you can be.”
There was a loud thud, and I was tempted to peek around the corner to see what had made the sound.
“The difference between you and me is that I don’t expect anyone else to clean up after me. The same can’t be said for you since you damn well knew that my team and I would be the ones who’d be scrubbing the scene free of blood and gore after you executed the douchebag, and you still didn’t do a damn thing to minimize the mess.”
Holy crap. They weren’t joking around. The first guy really had killed someone.
I’d thought I would do whatever it took to keep this job, but I drew the line at cleaning up murder scenes. Living with Brenna and Thad sucked but going to jail would be worse. Probably.
“You gotta admit the guy deserved a fuck of a lot worse than a bullet to the head.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep my cry of fear in as I flattened myself against the wall. I needed to get out of here fast, but I was scared they’d hear me if I moved. I didn’t want to end up with a bullet in my head, too.
“Of course, he fucking did.”
The thud this time sounded an awful lot like a fist hitting someone, but neither of the guys talking cried out as though they’d been punched. I was confused until the man who’d admitted to murdering someone muttered, “No point in kicking him after he’s dead. Bastard can’t feel that shit anymore.”