Our Fatal Failings (Twisted book two)

Chapter Six

I throw out everything that I have of him. Pictures, gifts from him, notes, clothes. I'm not going to keep everything of him around. On the third day after the break up there was no trace of him in my apartment. I won't let his lies slow me, or infest me. I refuse to wallow in my misery for any longer than I already have.

On the fourth day, I went harder on my work out.

On the fifth, I sang, loudly, until Iris slammed my door shut.

On the sixth day, I blocked his number when he tried to text me an I need to explain. What was there left for him to say?

On the seventh Nia and Iris went to a friend's house to go clubbing. Clubbing isn't my thing and I'm not looking for a rebound relationship. I need to focus on myself. So to took the liberty of buying microwave popcorn and cookies and cream ice cream. A Law and Order SVU marathon would occupy my time for the entire night.

I cross through the dark apartment and put the things I'm carrying in the kitchen. It's hard to carry groceries by hand from the store, on the bus and then the walk home. Unfortunately, I'm afraid to put my name in any system by getting a driver's license. I stretch my items on the kitchen table. "I hope they're showing the early seasons," I mutter to myself, pulling on pajama shorts.

Settling in front of the T.V, I dish myself a liberal amount of ice cream and change the channel. Two of three episodes go by and the night drags on. Somewhere, I fell asleep, popcorn bowl discarded by my feet.

Groggy, I woke up, T.V still on and the bright lights hurting my tired eyes. "God, what time is it?" I stretch. "I should go to bed."

In the kitchen, the floor squeaks. I frown. Did they get home? No, both Nia or Iris would've turned on the light, or at least turned off the T.V. Something isn't right. I don't know how, but I can feel it. That sense of wrongness--It sends the hairs on the end of my spine up.

There's a strange in my house.

Standing slowly, walk behind the couch and pull a baseball bat out from underneath. It's always there if I ever need it. I prayed that I would never, but I have to use it. I flip the light switch. They don't come on. My frown deepens. It's not snowing, it's not raining, why the hell isn't the power on? I look out the window. The power isn't on in the building across from mine or the building across from that. What the fuck is going on? A city-wide blackout?

I'm not going to call out hello. If there's a thief, its best they think I'm still asleep, I'll get the element of surprise. Blood roars in my ears as the creaking stops. I clutch the baseball bat in my hands, ready to whip around and crack the skull of the intruder.

"Imani." The whisper is faint, familiar. My blood runs cold, my hands go frigid and I almost drop the bat. "Did you miss me?"

I spin around and bring the baseball bat down, aiming at his head. He grabs it from my hands, yanking me forward into his arms and sending the bat rolling onto the floor. His hands lock around my waist. "Did you?"

I suppress a sob "What do you want?" I already know the answer, but if I can put this off until Nia or Iris come back, I might have a fighting chance.

"You already know, don't play stupid."

"My name is Mary Jacobson, what are you doing in my home?" My voice is high a reedy. I can't even lie to save my life. "I don't know who you are or what you want?"

He laughs, a lower smoother rumble than I remember it, free of cracks. "Imani, you're not fooling anyone."

"I'm not lying, I swear. I don't know you. I just moved into this apartment, the previous tenants were evicted because they wouldn't pay rent."