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THERE WASN’T QUITE the same commotion at my apartment today. The big trash dumpster was gone, and nobody was coming in and out. There was a burly guy hanging out by the door, but it wasn’t the foreman from yesterday, and there were always guys hanging around outside these apartments. I pulled into my spot hoping things would go more smoothly today.
They didn’t. Before I was even out of my car, the burly guy started toward me. “Work site’s closed. Come back tomorrow.”
“I’m not a worker,” I said. “It’s my apartment.”
He looked me up and down. “You Dave?”
“I am.”
“Hauser said you’re not allowed in, either.”
“Did he say why?”
“Nope.”
That’s all the answer I got, but the burly guy was standing between me and the door, and he didn’t look interested in moving.
I tried the tactic I’d used on the foreman. “I just need to grab some clothes. I’ll be right in and out.”
“You won’t,” he said.
He hit me with a glare to discourage further argument. But I needed a change of clothes. “Listen—”
“Nope. Take it up with Hauser.” He crossed heavily-tattooed arms over a barrel chest and raised his chin. Guy like that was more trouble than I needed. He was definitely going in my game, though.
I took a step back to lower the tension and asked hopefully, “Is Mr. Hauser in his office?”
“Not my problem. This door’s my problem.” He stepped back into his position, and I got back in my car.
It didn’t feel good, folding like that. But what was I supposed to do? Fight the guy? He’d have killed me without really trying. And he was just doing his job. Mr. Hauser was my real problem.
The complex had four big apartment units out front of a back parking lot that surrounded a two-story administrative building. I parked by the back door and headed inside. The ground floor of the admin building was laundry and a permanently filthy common room.
It wasn’t quite as big as I remembered it. I noticed, because the proportions didn’t match the layout I’d written into my game.
Mr. Hauser’s office was upstairs, but I lingered for a moment in the common room, really looking at it for the first time. There were two non-descript doors in the north wall that I’d never noticed before. One had a sign that said “Storage. Employees only.” The other was unlabeled. They both had locks on the knobs.
I could use that in my game. Rearranging map locations in my head, I crossed the common room and climbed the claustrophobic staircase. The landing at the top was really just a hallway between Mr. Hauser’s private apartments on the left and the offices on the right, but there were chairs crowding the space to make a sad waiting room.
I knocked on the office door, and my aggravation made it a loud rap-rap-rap in the confined space. It was louder than I meant it to be, and I jumped at my own noise.
The girl in the chair did, too.
I hadn’t even noticed her, distracted as I was, but there was a girl waiting in one of the ratty chairs.
“Oh!” I stammered. “I...I didn’t see you there. Sorry. Were you waiting?”
She shook her head, mute. She was pretty, but she didn’t look interested in conversation. She was... thirtyish? I couldn’t have said for sure. I’m awful at guessing women’s ages. She was older than me, but not old. She looked scared, though, and that made her seem younger. She looked exhausted, and that made her seem older.
She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Tennis shoes. No jewelry. No phone. No book. She was just sitting there.
I waved at the office door. “I just need to talk to Mr. Hauser. Do you know if he’s in?”
She looked at me for a while. Then she said, “You’re not with him?”
“I rent an apartment downstairs. He’s locked me out.”
“Can you help me?”
Her voice was small and skittish. It didn’t really fit. But the look in her eyes was the same. She was very afraid. I immediately wanted to be her hero. I wasn’t anybody’s hero, but I wanted to be one for her.
“I could try,” I said. “What do you need?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and I fell all the way in love with her. She seemed familiar, somehow. Like I already knew her, but I was sure I’d never seen her before.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about the girl with the gun. But I already told you I never saw her again.
This girl looked different, too. The girl with the gun had been a tiny slender thing. The girl in the chair was taller, curvier, and she didn’t have an ounce of confidence to her.
She was more my league.
I stepped toward the second chair, but just then the door behind me opened, and Mr. Hauser came out bellowing. “Hey! Can I help you? Oh, Dave. Of course. What do you need?”
There was too much to respond to, but he was demanding a response. I raised one finger to the girl, apologetic, then turned to face Hauser.
“Hey. I need to talk to you, but just a moment, okay?”
His face scrunched. “No, it’s not okay! What do you need?”
I was already half turned back to the girl, but he grabbed my shoulder and spun me to face him.
I did my best to meet his gaze, man-to-man. “This lady just asked for my help. I can’t ignore that.”
“You can,” he snapped, then raised his eyes to her. “That true, Trina? You asking strange men for help, now?”
“No. Haha!” She laughed it off, but weakly. “Just trying to kill some time while I waited for you.”
He frowned at her hard, then turned it on me. “There. See? She doesn’t need anything from you.”
“I’d rather hear it from her,” I said. I’m not sure where the backbone came from, but I was getting tired of tough guys pushing people around. He still had a vise grip on my shoulder, but I craned my neck around to make eye contact with the girl. Trina. “You okay?”
She dropped her gaze to her lap, fidgeting in her shirt, but she made a jerky nod. “Mhm. It’s like he said.”
“But—”
“You heard the girl,” Mr. Hauser said, and he wrenched me back around with a tug. “And I won’t let you harass her on my property.”
“But—”
“But nothing, kid. I’m in charge here. Now, what do you need?”
“I... I came here to get some clothes from my apartment, but—”
He released my shoulder and raised his hand to cut me off. Instead of answering me, he grabbed his phone and made a call. “Hey. It’s me. I’m sending the kid down to grab something from the damaged unit. Clothes and toiletries. None of our property. Got it?”
His glare was hard on me for that last bit. I nodded, even if he wasn’t asking. I had no intention of stealing his workers’ tools.
He must’ve gotten an answer, because he said, “Thanks, Derrick. I’m sending him straight down.” The phone went away, and the frown came back. “There. Everything you asked for. You happy, kid?”
“I...” I turned back to the girl one more time, but she avoided my eye contact. I sighed, defeated. “Sure. Thanks. Call me as soon as the work is done, okay?”
“I’ve got your number. But you better get down there while my man is waiting for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling like a loser. I tried again, and she ducked me again, so I tromped downstairs and went to get my stuff. The tough guy watched my every move in my own apartment, but my thoughts were all on the girl. And how much I hated that Mr. Hauser.
It wasn’t until I got back to my car that I remembered what came next, and a whole new wave of dread hit me.
I had to go to my parents’ house.
My life was a total nightmare.