Page 60 of Arranged Control
And who’s got the skills to slip into Alina’s apartment without waking anyone or getting caught?
For all the shit I talk about her place, it’s actually relatively secure. High up, lots of cameras, decent locks on the door. Notgoodlocks—but enough to slow someone down.
Whoever got in has serious training.
I park out in front of my house and head inside. I’m distracted as I put my keys down on the island. Alina must be upstairs in bed. It’s past one in the morning and I’m exhausted from dealing with her annoyed father. Although he toned everything down after I mentioned Molchanie.
I almost don’t notice the back door.
I freeze and stare. My heart rate doubles. It’s fully closed and the handle is locked.
But the bolt is undone.
I know for a fact that it’s always shut.
Slowly, I walk toward the steps, listening and on high alert. I’m probably reading too much into this. Alina could’ve gone outside. I might’ve forgotten to shut it for once.
I go straight to the hall bathroom and find the pistol I keep hidden under the sink. Then I go from room to room, checking everything. I make sure there’s nobody hiding and nothing’s been disturbed. Everything looks good until I make it to Alina’s walk-in closet.
She unpacked more. Dresses are hanging on the racks. I shove them aside, making some noise as I look behind, but there’s nothing. Paranoia and worry drive me.
If someone broke into my house, that means nowhere is safe.
“Seamus? What’s going on?”
I turn, gun raised. Alina’s standing in the doorway. She looks like she was just sleeping, her eyes heavy, but she quickly takes a step back when there’s a gun pointed at her face.
I lower it to the floor. “Nothing. Everything’s okay.”
“Why do you have a gun?”
“I was just checking things out.”
“In my closet?”
“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
She doesn’t move. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”
I curse to myself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I should have my shit together. I can’t be jumping at shadows.
But that video of the person in all black stabbing a burning man repeatedly in the chest like it’s nothing won’t get out of my head.
“Did you use the back door earlier?”
She looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“The top bolt was left open.”
“I didn’t go out there.”
“Did you touch it? Maybe without thinking? Even just for a second.”
“No, I swear.” She’s frowning deeply. “What’s the matter?”
I shove the gun back into my waistband. There’s nobody else in the house. I start pacing back and forth, thinking hard. “Did you hear anything? See anything unusual?”
“No, I swear. I’ve just been unpacking, then I went to bed like an hour ago.” She hugs herself, rubbing her upper arms. “If this is about the note?—”
