Tetris in Red

01: Tetris in Red

01: Tetris in Red

Rhys

The creamy, expensive carpet muffles my footsteps as I walk out of the elevator and into the lowly lit hallway.

There are only ten doors on this floor. Each is firmly closed. No sounds other than my labored breathing and the fast-paced beating in my chest can be heard. The air is eerily still, which isn't surprising since most of the occupants are downstairs for the after-party.

Five light bulbs hang overhead and animal portraits are plastered on each side of every door. The conditioned air is in the right temperature yet my armpits are on the verge of creating a goddamn waterfall.

I stop just outside his door.

A dog on the left side has its eyebrow raised while the cat on the right pins me with a patronizing stare. They are judging me already and I haven't even touched the door.

I take a deep breath.

It's all or nothing.

I lay my ear against the door to hear if there's a semblance of life on the other side. There are only white noises. Usually, guys like him create sounds, even if it's not intentional. But I know I don't have to worry about it right now. I saw him downstairs with his tongue digging a second Mariana trench on a blonde's throat.

My hands shake as I swipe the key card on the slot. This is it. This is fucking it. My nerves are shot, cold sweats dot my forehead as I take the first step into his expensive suite.

It feels so wrong. So illegal. My feet can barely cooperate.

My limbs are awkward as I tiptoe around, my eyes seeking. I knew doing this will mean violating his privacy. But he violated mine first. I'm only trying to take back what's mine.

I should've asked him nicely, should've done more to reach out to him. But I can't—don't want—to talk to him. He's big now. Larger than life. I don't want him looking down on me and seeing the same girl he saw years ago. Not a chance.

I reach his bedroom in no time. An open suitcase is placed above the king-sized bed and its contents are littered on the floor—clothes, shoes, airline tickets, watches...

The corner of my mouth tips up. "I guess some things never changed."

My hands dig into every crevice on his suitcase but found nothing. Pouches? Nothing. Pockets on his pants? Nada. I move to his drawers but find them empty as well. Of course. For all I know, they are only staying here for two days before they travel again to another city—

"Rubbish. For all I know, Dad knew about this already..."

My whole body stills. I haven't heard that voice for years. The endearing remnants of the British tone of the boy I once knew are gone. It is replaced by a very deep male voice with a gracious American accent that makes my heart stop beating for a second and thoughts fleeing from my mind.

"I got it. I'm actually going to do it now."

His nearing footfalls snap me into action. I look around to find a hiding spot. The bathroom and the closet are a no-go as they can be skimpy, full of transparent glasses, mirrors or just too obvious for Christ's sake. And I don't have time to open each one to decide. My eyes travel and travel, and travel, until I hear him stop right outside his bedroom door.

Did he hear me moving? Did he hear my heart galloping crazily inside my chest?

My pulse nearly vacates my skin as I consider my options. "What to do... what to do..." I whisper a prayer. I don't want to face him. I can't. I shouldn't.