ADDICTED

19

JAMES

"I'm sorry to hear about it, though," said the little old lady three doors down from Leah's apartment.

She was about half my height with a tuft of pure white hair, hunched over with a walker in her hands. When she first answered the door, I was certain I'd woken her from her afternoon doze.

"Are you sure you didn't hear any loud noise? See anything suspicious?" I insisted.

"I'm sure," she said. "I'm real sorry to hear it, though. I hope they catch who did it."

Sighing, I pulled my hand across the back of my neck. "I hope so too. Thank you for your time, Tina."

She shut her door as I turned away, starting back toward Leah's. None of the neighbors had been useful. I didn't understand how someone could cause such a mess without anyone hearing or seeing anything. The intruder busted the fucking door handle off, for God's sake. That was not a quiet crime.

When I reached Leah's apartment, I rapped my knuckles on the door before nudging the pitiful excuse open. My shoes kicked aside the caution tape as I poked my head inside.

"Ready to go?" I called in.

There was a brief moment of silence that sent my heart slamming into overdrive until a "Yep, I'm coming," sounded from the kitchen. I leaned against the door threshold with a relieved exhale. I wanted to help her collect her things, but I didn't want to crowd on her. She already had one asshole rifling through her things, so I assumed it was best to give her space.

As Leah rounded the corner, I took in her appearance. Stressed lined her face and tiny wisps of blonde hair tumbled out of her ponytail.

My fingers itched to tug the elastic out and let her hair loose. In her arms was the furry black creature she pulled out from under the bed.

Even though I wanted to despise it, I couldn't help but feel a little empathy at how fearful the animal had looked. I couldn't begin to imagine how my house would change with a cat in it, but I guessed I'd find out.

"Where are your bags?" I asked.

"Oh, right over here." She turned away from me again as if she'd forgotten about them and why I was here.

I watched her stuff the cat into a mesh carrier and then pick up a navy canvas duffel and plastic grocery bag in the other hand. As I stepped into her apartment, reaching for the bags, I noticed she'd cleaned up some of the mess.

"Are you sure this is everything?" I asked. One duffel wasn't much—not for work and leisure.

Leah handed the bag over and shrugged. "I'm moving soon anyway. I'll just come back and pack the rest later."

My jaw ticked at the thought of her having to move elsewhere with some psychopath on the loose. The reality was that she wouldn't be safe anywhere except with me until they were caught. Maybe she just assumed they would catch the intruder sooner than later.

Nodding, I herded her out the door with the duffel and said, "Alright, let's go."

I loaded our belongings into the trunk of her Mercedes while she placed the cat carrier in the backseat. When I closed the trunk, I found her standing by the driver's door, staring at the ground.

"Leah." At no response, I touched her shoulder and repeated her name.

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. My chest seemed to plummet to my feet.