"I-I-I am sorry". I stepped back, letting my hair fall over my face in a pathetic attempt to hide from him. "I-I'll go…". I distinctly pointed in the direction of the restroom " I'll go get something to clean it off ". I didn't give him a chance to reply before turning towards the door.
The back door.
I bolted immediately the cold air from outside hit me. I turned left out of the alley without thinking, muscle memory from weeks of the same route home taking over while my brain was still catching up with what had just happened.
He is here…how is he here
My breath came out in short pants but I didn't bother stopping, the fear of him somehow catching up to me pushing my legs forward.
I didn't stop till I reached my building and let myself in the small apartment with trembling hands.
I stood, with my back pressed against the door. He hadn't recognise me…
He couldn't have….. At least , not in that moment.
But if I had stayed any seconds longer, he would've figured out. And he would have heard it.
The second heartbeat ….i can't risk that happening. He can't know about the baby.
He can't.
I rushed to my side of the room, grabbing the small bag on my bed. I began stashing everything of mine that my hand could find, inside. Which was not really much because I owned very little. I grabbed the stash up cash I was barely able to save from last month's salary.
I was running again.
"GRrrrrrrrrrr"
I froze as a loud sound resonated through the small apartment, stopping me mid zipping the bag. My breath hitched when I realised it was coming from the door.
It can't be him, can it?
I stood in the middle of the room with the bag strap in my hand. The doorbell sound came again, almost bursting my heart out of my chest.
My eyes was pinned to the door, willing the person at the other side away but ofcourse, that wouldn't happen. I looked at the small chain hooked across the door. I didn't remember putting it on but I was suddenly very aware of how much it wouldn't do if someone actually decided to break through.
My eyes darted towards the window, painstakingly aware of how high up the building I was. There was no way I'd survive the jump without breaking one or two.
There was only one option left.
I grabbed whatever my hand could find, which coincidentally was a bottle of wine from Clara table though i knew at the back of my mind that it'll do nothing against him.
I braced myself for the worst as I yanked open the door, ready to swing the bottle.
But….
I blinked. And blink again.
A small woman blinked back at me.
Late sixties maybe. Grey hair pinned up loosely behind her head with a worn cardigan pulled around her shoulders, a reading glasses pushed up on her forehead. She was holding a folded piece of paper and looking at me with the mild, unbothered expression of someone who had absolutely no idea what kind of moment she had just broke into.
"Oh good, you're home." She smiled. "I'm so sorry to disturb you this late love. The building manager slipped the electricity bills under the wrong doors again, silly man. I think this one's yours."
She held out the paper.
But my eyes were still glued on her in a mixture of shock and relief. Most likely relief because my tensed shoulder eased when it finally clicked on my mind that she was no threat.
"O-o-of course." My voice came out shakily. "Sorry — yes. Let me….just check mine, I think I have yours too."
I turned back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind me. My bill was on the small table by the window where we kept pretty much everything. I grabbed it with the cash I had ready for this month, and turned back.
"Here—"
The words died in my throat and my blood turned cold.
She was on the floor.
Face down. The folded paper still in her outstretched hand, her cardigan twisted around her, grey hair loose from its pins. A dark stain was spreading slowly from somewhere beneath her, bleeding into the hallway carpet in a quiet, terrible bloom.
And standing over her, filling the doorframe, looking at me with an expression I had no category for —
Was him.
Alpha Darius.
The paper fell from my hand as I staggered back, further into the room. I couldn't think. I grabbed the closest thing my hand could find and flung it in his direction.
He sidestepped it without even looking at it, his expression unfazed like he expected it. It hit the iron barricade behind him and shattered to the floor.
I grabbed my bag off the floor, prepared to throw it at him but his hand caught the bottom mid air. The content spilled out, momentarily distracting him and I shoved my elbow as hard as I could into his stomach. It took him by surprise , I could see it from the way his golden rimmed eyes flickered.
But that was the most reaction I got from him before both of my wrists were in locked in his and my face was pressed on the wall.
It happened in a blink of an eye. I was completely immobile with his body locked tightly behind me.
II tried anyway. Pulled against his grip, pushed back against the forearm, shifted my weight to find an angle that might work.
There wasn't one.
"Stop," his deep voice whispered against my neck, sending unwanted shivers through my whole body.
"Get off me."
"Stop fighting and I'll let go of your wrists."
"Let go of my wrists and I'll stop fighting."
He said nothing to that. I felt his chest against my back, the steadiness of his breathing that was frankly offensive given that mine was all over the place, and I stood there stubbornly with my cheek pressed against the cold wall and my wrists held and my heart going completely haywire and I hated everything about this.
"You knocked out my neighbour," I said, my breath coming out in large puffs.
"She's alive."
"You knocked out my neighbour," I repeated loudly
"How stupid are you? She is not your neighbour".