Change of Heart - By S.E. Edwards Page 0,12
a sudden uncomfortably aware of how precarious my situation is. I’m in some random guy’s apartment in an unfamiliar part of town. I have no money for a cab. My roommate got us evicted. Even if I could afford the ride, I’d have nowhere to go. I don’t have any family or friends nearby. And the guy I’m with—the guy I know next to nothing about—seems intent on ignoring the late-night knocking at his door.
Rich catches my cringe, and sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. But you—“ he points at me, “—and me—” he points at himself, “—are not supposed to be here right now.”
“Not supposed to be here?” I repeat, almost at a loss for words. “This is your apartment, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is,” he chastises, then moves to quietly open the window.
Bang-bang-bang-bang! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
“What are you doing? I hiss at him.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Getting out of here.” He waves me toward him. “Come on! Are you coming, or not?”
“Through the window?” I ask flatly.
He nods impatiently.
“With you?”
He nods again.
I start to consider my options, when a fierce voice rises from behind the door. “Richard! Richard, I know you’re in there! Open this fucking door before I break it down!”
My eyes dart to Rich. He’s frozen in a crouch by the window. The voice at the door definitely does not belong to a friend. “Would he really do that?” I whisper urgently.
“Does it look like I want to wait and find out?” Rich lifts one foot over the window sill. “Come on! There’s no time to explain. Get your clothes and follow me!”
“I’m going to count to ten,” the deep voice from outside roars, “and if this door is not open by then, so help me God, I will tear it down with my own two hands! ONE! TWO! ...”
The countdown breaks me from my indecisive stupor. I scramble to throw my arms through my shirt.
“…FOUR! FIVE! SIX! ...”
My pants fly on and I jump from the bed. Just before reaching Rich, I pause, and look back.
“What are you waiting for?” he whispers urgently.
“My sweater,” I say. “You didn’t throw me my sweat—”
“Oh, for the love of God…” Rich grabs my hand and yanks me after him. I yelp as I’m jerked off my feet.
“… EIGHT! NINE! …”
I hop over the windowsill. The metal escape ladder is cold and painful against my bare feet. Rich follows after me. When we’re both out, he carefully lowers the window. At the moment it presses closed, a splintering crash sounds from within the apartment.
My heart jumps to my throat. I duck down and press myself tight against the brick wall. “What was that?” I demand.
“Sounds to me like the door,” Rich grumbles. He starts down the ladder.
Another crash sounds from inside. I risk peeking through the window.
At the far end of the apartment, a light shines through a gaping hole in the door. I can make out the silhouettes of two men. One of them is holding something that looks like an enormous blacksmith hammer.
I know I should get away from the window, but I can’t move. I’m completely stupefied by actually witnessing something like this in real life.
I feel an urgent tug on my ankle, and look down to find Rich below me. “Come on,” he says. “We don’t want to be anywhere close to here when they break in.”
I nod, swallowing my fear, and start the long climb to the ground after him.
***
“What the hell was that?” I demand of Rich as we rush through the parking lot to his car. He hasn’t said a word to me since hitting the ground. Instead, he’s been looking in all directions to avoid running into anyone unaware. I wasn’t opposed to his precaution while we were out in the open, but now that we’d reached the underground parking lot, demanding an explanation seems the only reasonable choice. “Richard, who were those men at your door?”
He shakes his head, avoiding looking at me. “The less you know about it, the better.” He unlocks his car—a maroon red Ford pickup—and gestures for me to get in.
I plant my feet and cross my arms. “Rich, I’m not going another step with you until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on!” he curses, exasperated. He takes a deep breath, and his voice softens. “Or, not exactly. Not yet. It’s a long story, Penelope. But as long as they don’t know you were with