Chapter 13

"Oh, you're just being modest, aren't you? I know you've got a hot body down there. How else could you have made it as a firefighter, am I right? Can I sneak a peek? See if you've got those well-defined muscles?"

The woman was growing stranger by the second. She was already handsy enough to grab my chest before I could react.

Her grin widened as excitement flooded her voice. "Oho, I felt it! Now that's rock hard!"

I stepped back warily. "Um, Mrs. McKay?"

"Oh, don't mind me, Mr. Grimwald. Where are my manners? Now, tell me… are you single?"

"I… I guess you could say that?" I answered, unsure. It was technically true, but telling Patricia that felt like a mistake.

Why was she still here, anyway? I'd already paid her. She should have left by now.

Patricia's grin stretched to its limit as her eyes narrowed.

"Perfect! I really like you, Mr. Grimwald. So here's what I'll do—I'm lowering your rent. You paid me three months in advance, plus a deposit, right? I'm going to count that as six months paid!"

I suddenly understood. She was hitting on me. A shiver crept down my spine. "No, wait! I'm not single! You misheard me. I've been married for five years! I even have a kid!"

She smiled like she'd just heard a terrible joke.

"You're a bad liar, Mr. Grimwald. That suitcase's packed for one. What, you left your wife and kid back in your hometown?" She folded her arms. "How old's your kid? What school do they go to? Who's their teacher?"

It turned into an interrogation about a kid who didn't exist. I couldn't answer a thing. I didn't even know Bobby well enough to lie and pretend he was mine.

My silence sealed the deal in her mind.

"See? What kind of father forgets his own kid? Oh, right. A father who doesn't have one! Ha! Don't worry about lying to me, Mr. Grimwald," she said with a breezy wave. "It's settled. You're welcome to stay here. Forget the deposit. What you've paid will count for six months!"

The look in her eyes made my skin crawl. As she turned toward the door, I raised my voice, hoping to stop her. "I'm married, ma'am! I mean it!"

"Yes, I'm sure you are." She gave a wink. "I still like you, sweetie. That's why the rent's cheaper. Please, enjoy your stay!"

She liked me? What kind of "like" was she talking about? And she clearly didn't believe I was married at all!

She closed the door behind her while I stood there, stunned. Just how forward was this woman? Who hit on someone they thought was married and didn't even care?

I should never have paid the rent upfront. I never should've signed that contract. Sleeping on the streets would've been better, but I had only enough money for two more days. My paycheck wouldn't arrive for a while.

I had no choice. I had to stay here.

As for Patricia, it would be safer to order an extra lock.

I placed the order and started unpacking. I only had personal grooming items and some clothes. Everything else—my toiletries, bedsheet, blanket—was still at Hera's house.

This would have to do.

…

Hera and Edmund arrived at the bar.

She was dressed like he had never seen before. Usually, she styled herself as a regal, aloof queen. Tonight, she wore a mini-skirt that revealed her long, lean legs wrapped in black silk. Her heels added height, and her hair was permed into wild, bold waves.

Her makeup stole the show. Striking and daring, she looked like a sex bomb.

Edmund couldn't take his eyes off her. His mouth hung open. "Hera, you... I had no idea this side of you existed! We never saw you like this when we were together!"

"How do I look?" she asked coyly.

"Gorgeous! You're the most beautiful woman in this place!"

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!" He swallowed nervously, then added, "Your husband won't like me saying that, will he?"

Hera brushed off his concern with a calm reply. "Let's not talk about him tonight. We're here to enjoy ourselves. Come on, let's get a drink."

"Okay! Oh, by the way, I think we should get a private room. You're so stunning tonight that I'm worried you might attract unwanted attention... Predators," he said quickly, his eyes gleaming.

"No. Let's stay here," she said firmly as she slipped her arm around his neck and pressed her body against his.

In the corner of the bar, a man watched and recorded everything from his seat.

…

The night was calm. I stood by the window, admiring the moon's soft, white glow.

I had been deep into housekeeping. While hanging my clothes, I opened the closet and found dust everywhere. This unit had not seen an occupant for ages.

I spent an hour cleaning before finally putting my clothes away. Just as I finished, a text popped up from an old college friend.

I hadn't spoken to Chase Johnson since graduation. I wondered what he wanted. Was he inviting me to his wedding?

Unfortunately, it was nothing so pleasant. He sent me a video clip.

It looked like it was filmed in a bar. A woman sat on a man's lap, her body pressed closely to his. Something about her felt familiar, but I couldn't place it.

Chase's message arrived with a "shock" emoji.

Chase: [Yo, man. Don't freak out, but is that your wife in the video?]

Hera?

My heart stopped for a moment.