I thank him and pass through the doorway urgently, lending even more evidence to the appearance that I’m mad.
I stop on the sidewalk, aware of the sudden—almost reassuring—noise of the bustling city. It restores a bit of normalcy. People cross the sidewalk in front of me, not seeing or not caring what I look like.
Moments ago I felt like I was one wrong move away from being a rich man’s captive, but out here on the busy New York City sidewalk, I’m a normal person again, and Calvin Cutler is just a really bad dream I need to finish shaking off. I’m awake. I’m free.
It was too easy.
Getting a cab probably won’t be. Not only because I look like I’ve just escaped an asylum and probably can’t pay, but I also have a cat with me.
Marie looks around at the sights. I don’t usually bring her outside unless we’re going to the vet, so she side eyes me like I’d better not even try it.
“We’re going home,” I tell her.
I’m not sure if she’s the one who needs to hear it or I am, but I hold onto her and start making my way down the sidewalk. It’s too far to walk all the way to my place, but I’ll worry about hailing a cab once I’ve put some distance between us and Calvin’s building.
___
I had to walk for several blocks before I finally managed to hail a cab. My feet are killing me after walking so far in heels and Marie started to get heavy after a while.
I’m exhausted in just about every way a person can be when I enter my apartment building. All I want in the world is to lock myself in my apartment where I can imagine I’m safe, strip Calvin’s clothing off my body, and take a scalding hot shower. I need to feed Marie first. I don’t even know if she had dinner last night at Calvin’s.
What an ordeal all that was.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, caressing Marie’s fur and placing a kiss on the nearest spot my face can reach. “We only have to see him one more time, then we can put him behind us.”
That reassurance is definitely for me, not Marie. She’ll never see him again; it’s not like I’m going to take her with me to whatever this last “date” is.
I cringe thinking of it as a date.
I try to ignore the unease because even though he assured me when I was trapped beneath his spell that he wouldn’t kill me, he seems like the last man I should trust. Am I crazy to fulfill my promise to see him one more time? I got away. Every instinct I has is screaming that if I managed to get away from him this time, I should never go back.
There’s a cloud of uncertainty following that reasonable impulse, though.
What will he do if I don’t?
I tell myself he probably won’t do anything. A sane man wouldn’t, but I’m not convinced he’s entirely sane. At his apartment I felt pulled into his crazy with him, but the sobriety of daylight and distance away from him…
I don’t know.
I’m more confused than I’ve ever been, but he’s a pretty unorthodox man.
Attempting to shove every last thought of Calvin Cutler out of my mind so he doesn’t pollute my personal space, I dig my keys out of my purse and round the corner to approach my apartment.
I stop dead a few feet away.
Questioning my sanity, I check the number hung there in gold, flaky paint.
Am I on the right floor?
I know I am, and the gold flaky numbers indicate this is, in fact, apartment 804, but… and I feel nuts thinking this, but, that is not my door.
My steps slow, but I still move closer.
As I do, my confusion grows. I glance down the hall and see the same stain on the carpet just past my door, the same passive-aggressive note from the landlord hanging up on the bulletin board at the end of the hall—the same sights I see literally every single day that I have lived at this apartment.
Just not my door.
I don’t really know what’s going on or what I’m supposed to do, but I desperately want to be inside that apartment, so I try my key.
It doesn’t work.
What the hell is happening?
Did my landlord change the locks on me? That doesn’t make any sense. I’m not behind on my rent, and even if he wanted to evict me, he would have to serve me an eviction notice first.
Marie meows and looks down. She probably recognizes this is where we live and wants to know why we aren’t going inside, but I don’t have an answer for her.
Now that I’m looking around again, I realize the door isn’t the only thing that has changed. There’s a black security camera in the corner that was never there before. It’s pointing in the direction of my apartment, probably so it can see down the hall.