Page 9 of Drag You Down
He’s going to be mine.
I bathe, uninterested in lingering beneath the spray now that I’ve taken care of my pressing needs, then dry off.
Murdering Lansbury—and meeting Levi—took the edge off, but I know the hunger inside me won’t be sated for long.
He’d called me the Devil.
Maybe he isn’t entirely wrong.
I get changed, then grab my laptop and settle into bed. Ichabod jumps up to join me while I browse Wanted lists and check the news.
After a few minutes of that, I look up Levi’s address andZ. Carpenter. Unfortunately, it’s a much too common name, and the only thing I find out about the apartment building is that it’s owned by a private equity firm.
That’s usually a sign that something else is up.
My curiosity piqued, I try to find apartment listings, but there hasn’t been a vacant unit in that building in years. I can’t find a management office or any form of contact information either.
That’s definitely not normal.
Ichabod butts his head under my hand, and I pet him.
“Looks like we’ve got a new project,” I tell him. “Who in the world is my little lamb?”
Something to look into in the morning.
Usually, I’d spend my day off looking through the news for a new target worth stalking, someone who will satisfy this incessant need to kill, but my thoughts stray once again to Levi. This itch doesn’t ordinarily manifest until I’ve found my next mark, but my little lamb is so much more than prey.
He’s an obsession.
I know on some level that I should shake it and walk away, but the thought alone is unacceptable. I won’t be able to let him go until I’ve tasted him again, until I’ve felt him beneath me and whispered in his ear how beautiful he is.
He can think I’m the Devil all he wants.
I want him to be my fallen angel.
Every free moment I have, I go to his apartment building and wait outside, hoping to see him again. Unfortunately, in an entire week of waiting, he’s never once come out. I even set up a small camera pointed at the door so I could track his habits, but Levi is nowhere to be seen.
More curiously, almost nobody leaves the rundown three-story building.
There’s a man with a full beard who leaves and returns three times, several middle-aged men who leave together in the mornings and return in the evenings, and a single woman who leaves but is back within the hour.
Other than that, there’s no activity from the building at all.
When I sit there at night, I see lights on in the windows and I can see silhouettes through the blinds and curtains, so I know there are people inside—but those people never leave.
It’s increasingly suspicious, and I find myself even more interested in Levi for it.
I need him to leave.
I need to see him again.
I need to make sure I didn’t imagine him.
Good thing there are ways to force him out.
I stride into the building like I own it, but like before, no one is around to see me. It’s disconcerting, and I have to wonder all over again why people aren’t constantly coming in and out.
The lone camera in the lobby doesn’t deter me. I set a package down near the mailboxes, unlabeled, and walk further in.
