Page 18 of The Hitch
He's in my fucking house.
I spring out of bed and grab the knife from under my mattress. I'm armed and dangerous, motherfucker, come get me. Trying to keep as silent as possible, I creep down the hall, pausing to check the bathroom. No one there—no flowers, either. Just as I back out into the hallway, I hear the telltaleclickof my front door's lock.
Rage floods my veins, and I sprint to the door, wrenching it open, but there's no one in the apartment hall either. Only threadbare carpet and stained walls, with the lingering scent of urine wafting from the nearby stairwell. I huff in a guttural noise of frustration and slam the door closed. Right on cue, Mister Apartment 403 pounds on the wall.
"Trying to sleep!" a muffled voice shouts from the other side.
I roll my eyes and slump to the floor. I never once complained about his late-night parties or gaming sessions, but the instant I make a peep, it's like World War III.
War. That's exactly what this is. I narrow my eyes and scope out my kitchen/living room. In the middle of the floor, highlighted by the rising sun, is another fucking rose. The familiar purple ribbon tied in a classy little bow mocks me. But this time, there's somethingunderthe rose.
I creep forward on my hands and knees, holding my breath. I don'tthinkhe's still in here, but I can't be sure. As I inch my way closer, the something comes into view… a piece of paper. It'sthick and a creamy off-white. Thick black ink scrawls across it, but I can't quite read it.
Snatching the stupid note from under the rose, my heart stops and nausea roils in my gut.
Melody,
You should know better than to call the police, especially after your troubles in Chicago.
I'll be watching. I'll be waiting.
Love,
D
Fuck.
Dante
Isit in my McLaren in the parking garage across from Melody's window. She found one of my cameras. That's fine, I have others. Though I must be getting sloppy—she nearly caught me lying in her bed. I can still smell the cheap body wash from her sheets. I'm so close to her, but nowhere near where I need to be.
Two weeks. I have two weeks to make her my wife. Two weeks or the Consortium will appoint a new family to take over the Dantalion's line. I grit my teeth and scowl as I watch Melody skulk around her own home. She's a vicious little thing, andshe'll fit perfectly into my world. I've never wanted a yes-man in my life, and I need someone whochallengesme.
And fuck, is Melody ever a challenge. Though this game of ours is getting quite tiring. I have all the money she could ever need, and she has the fiery spirit that would make her the perfect mother to my infernal heir. I suppose I've known that since I started my surveillance. I thought I could trick myself into believing this was just a whim, an option I could pursue.
But she's notanoption. She's theonlyoption. And I look forward to her putting up a hell of a fight.
Roman has already drawn up the contract for her to sign—though I have some ideas for if, or when, she refuses. Based on her vicious demeanor, we may have to correct her behavior.
I thought I'd have more time. But time makes fools of us all, so they say, and Melody's violent fury is doing nothing butwastingtime. I'm not even upset that she called Rafaella again. Hell, I'll call her myself, after we're hitched. I smirk to myself and fire a text off to Roman.
I'll need your help getting the locks installed.
Of course. How many key copies?
Just two, for now. One for me and one for you.
Looking up from my phone, I see Melody at her window, inspecting the sill. Just because she's on the fourth floor doesn't make her untouchable from the outside, as I'm sure she's noticed. I blow her a kiss and reverse out of the garage, heading back to Old City. Tomorrow's the day she becomes my wife—she just doesn't know it yet.
My nerves quell on the drive home, while I expertly weave through the afternoon traffic.
Roman, being the perfect professional he is, already has every interior door fitted with new locks by the time I'm finished with work for the day. Valencia and I drew up the nonrenewal letters for every tenant of the Ridgeway Arms, and they'll be delivered tomorrow. Lucky for me, everyone there is in a month-to-month situation. Except for the commercial office on the ground floor, but they'll stay. That doesn't matter.
I just need more fuel for the fire under Melody. She won't be able to refuse myvery generousoffer.
Roman walks me through my house and points out the discreet cameras he's placed in the common areas, with the feeds encrypted and only accessible by him and myself. The matte black locks are solid, yet not out of place in the upscale Gothic architecture and design of my home. Running a finger over the new lock to my bedroom, I smile.
My home is silent, for now. The tentative footsteps of Marie echo in the empty, dimly lit halls. But it won't be this way for long. Melody will be here soon, and I believe she'll be a terror. A furious banshee of a woman, fighting me at every step.
