Page 228 of When We Fall: Part Two
Son of a bitch.
Klaus reached into his jacket, pulled out a key, and inserted it into the lock before pushing the door open.
“After you,” he said, gesturing me inside.
I sighed and stepped in.
It wasn’t terrible. In fact, it was adorable and decently updated.
“Good to see you’re not a slum lord,” I muttered, looking at the built-in bookcase in the tiny living room.
He found that funny because he chuckled.
I wandered through the tiny space and checked the bathroom. No bathtub. It was a standing shower, but it was a nice one.
Klaus left me to it, but I assumed it was because he was collecting money from the guy who showed the apartments.
I went into the only bedroom and frowned. It was going to be tight. I might be able to fit a twin bed in there. The closet wasn’t much of anything either.
I wouldn’t have much space for my keyboard, guitars, or even a decent space for music writing.
But I’d have a place to live that was mine.
“Do you like it?” Klaus asked, leaning against the doorjamb. I jumped at the sound of his deep voice.
He had to duck his head a bit just to stand there.
“It’s… cute,” I said.
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “There isn’t a lot of space for my music stuff, but then again, I don’t really think I’ll be using it anyway.”
“The space or the music stuff?”
“Music stuff. I was thinking about donating to the music center for students who can’t afford the equipment.”
“You are quitting music?” He frowned.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I’m not even in school anymore.”
He seemed surprised at that information. “What are your plans? Waitressing?”
I shrugged. “It’s OK. I don’t know. I have an interview at a bookstore tomorrow. Part-time. It’s hard to find full-time. But together, I can probably make enough. This is within my budget, so it could work for me. I-I have a cat. Is that going to be a problem?”
Before he could answer me, gunshots rang out somewhere down the hall.
Everything came flooding back to me, making me snap as the panic overtook me. Klaus looked at me for all of a moment as the screams and gunfire continued before he shoved me away from the door.
“Do not move!” he shouted, closing me in. I went to my ass and curled into a tight ball, covering my ears as more ugly noises sounded out.
More gunfire. More screams. Crashing. People running. Gunfire. Gunfire. Tires squealing.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
I wasn’t sure how long I lay on the floor, sobbing and struggling to breathe, but the door burst open and Klaus stomped back in and scooped me into his arms.
“It’s OK,” he murmured as he carried me from the room. I buried my face in his neck, my fingers twisted in his black shirt.
