Apartment 2B (12 page)

“Wow. I don’t even know what to say about that. All I know is that you are one of
the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can get through this. I will help you, but
you have to promise me that you won’t slip into a dark place over this. Promise me
that you’ll try to live your life without him. You’ve come way too far to let this
set you back.”

More tears slip out over my cheeks. A dark place is definitely where I am heading.
Any hope of becoming a normal, mentally healthy person flew right out the window the
moment Liam decided to leave. Tina is going to have her work cut out for her.

“I loved him. I loved him and he left me. My life is shit. I don’t even know why I
try. Now please go away and let me wallow in my misery.”

She sits down at the end of the bed, so I peek over at her. Smiling sympathetically,
she reaches over and pats my foot. As soon as she does it, she jerks her hand away,
frowning. It’s too late, because now my foot is on fire where she touched it. Sending
her the most hateful look I can muster, I leap out of bed and begin my process of
coping. The icy-cold water is a good start to that process.

I heave my heavy duffle bag over my shoulder as I leave the baggage claim area. People
are milling about as if they don’t have a worry in the world. Screw them. I wish I
weren’t heading back to my hometown to deal with the mess my selfish brother left
me.

A cab is waiting by the curb, so I open the door and toss in my bag. Once I’m in and
have closed the door, I give the driver the address and lean my head against the headrest.
The travel back from Germany was a long one, and I’ve lost all sense of time with
all of the time changes. But with a full day of sleeping, I’ll soon catch up.

My thoughts drift to my parents. I miss them so fucking much. They were unfairly taken
from me, and I still have trouble nearly a year later dealing with the loss. Mom was
ever the optimist. Always supporting us with whatever we wanted to do. When I joined
the service, I expected tears but was met with unending encouragement. Dad was proud
of his sons. In high school, we both played football and Dad was one hundred percent
involved. The day I told him I was going to fight for our country, he gripped my shoulder
tightly, and with tears in his eyes, he told me, “Son, I’m proud of you.”

I blink back tears of the memory. We had the most amazing parents in the world, and
now they are gone. Life just isn’t fair. After I went on to the service, my brother
slipped down a path of destruction. When I would speak to my parents, they would sadly
tell me about his newest antics with drugs, alcohol, and women. It infuriated me,
but there was nothing I could do from halfway around the world. Of course, he’d never
take any of my calls because he knew I would just bitch him out.

My memories are cut short as we pull up in front of the shabby and rundown apartment
building. Sighing, I hand over some money to the driver and pull my bag out of the
cab. Why did I think coming here would be a good idea? Oh yeah, I was just cleaning
up his messes once again.

Shaking my head, I climb up the steps and enter the building. I am met with the smell
of stale smoke and mildew. It is nauseating, but I ignore it. Seeing someone in the
office by the front door, I step in the doorway to the room. Instantly, I find the
source of the stale smoke. An older woman is smoking her cigarette like it might be
the last.

I clear my throat and she spins around in her chair. “Can I help you?” she asks. Her
voice is raspy and typical of someone who smokes continually.

“Yeah, I’m Lane Braxton. Remember me from six months ago? I’m here about apartment
2A. I just need to pick up the keys.” I run my free hand through my hair and down
to the back of my neck. It’s sore from all of the traveling, and I just want to go
to bed. I rub the aching muscles while she digs around in her desk drawer.

“Ah, of course. Here they are. Mr. Braxton, I’m—” she begins sadly, but I wave her
off and snatch the keys from her hand.

“I’m tired. Thank you,” I say, effectively cutting her off.

After stalking toward the stairwell, I push through the doors into a dark, disgusting
place. This place is shitty at best. Once the lease is up, I am going to find someplace
else to stay. I make my way to the second floor and pass the only other apartment
on this floor. There aren’t any noises coming from the door, so thankfully I may live
next to someone quiet.

I step up to the apartment and slide the key in. Not pushing it open yet, I take in
a deep breath as I prepare to enter his apartment. His mess. I shake my head as I
push through and try to ignore the conflicting feelings of anger and sadness. Turning
on a light, I see that the place is a disaster. No surprise there. It looks exactly
as it did six months ago. Boxes litter every inch of the space from my first unsuccessful
attempt at cleaning it up. At the time, I only had a few days to take care of business
before I had to get back to my post. Now, I have all the time in the world.

Dropping my bag to the floor, I bypass the mess and head straight for the bedroom.
A good night’s rest is in order before I will have the energy to start on all of this.
Finding the edge of the bed, I fall onto it and immediately pass out.

The sound of squeaky pipes wakes me up. After thirty minutes of the annoying sound,
I finally get up and take a quick hot shower. When I get out, I can still hear the
water running from the apartment next door. What the fuck? That shit is as annoying
as hell, and I’ll be damned if I have to listen to that every day. Grumbling, I get
dried off and step out into the bedroom. The pipes have stopped their whining, but
now I can hear a loud television.

Someone is jamming out next door to some ‘80s music on their TV and it’s grating on
my already frayed nerves. This cheap-ass apartment has the thinnest walls. Finally
tired of hearing this crap, I stalk over to the wall where it’s coming from and bang
loudly. My pounding shakes the wall, and I grin in victory when I hear a picture fall
from the wall and break. The music stops immediately. I’m still doing a little internal
victory dance in just a towel when someone knocks on the front door.

I don’t have time to dig through my bag that’s in the living room, so I throw my jeans
back on and grab a shirt from the dresser. I’m still pulling on the shirt when I open
the front door. My cock greets the blue-eyed beauty first as it comes to life at the
sight of her. An angry little thing, at least six inches shorter than I am, glares
up at me with red-rimmed eyes and her hands on her hips.

I start to introduce myself, but she begins to cry, which confuses me. When I involuntarily
reach out for her, she steps back a few paces, looking at my hand like it’s a poisonous
snake.

“What the hell, Liam? What are you trying to do to me?” she demands as tears fall
down her rosy cheeks. The girl isn’t wearing a trace of makeup, but she’s quite possibly
the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’ve just spent too much time overseas and
away from women.

“Huh?” I ask dumbly. I’m having trouble following her words as I’m too busy checking
her out.

Those blue eyes are staring back at me icily, effectively sending a shiver down my
spine. I’ve seen some scary shit over the past few years, but those eyes are pissed.
Her full lips are pressed into a line, and she looks close to going apeshit.

“I can’t believe you could do this to me. How can you play mind games with me like
this?” Her lip begins to quiver, and I have the urge to press my thumb to it.

Her long neck is elegant, and her dark, long hair, spills around it, creating a lovely
contrast. My eyes make their way to her breasts, which are more than a handful but
not too big. She’s wearing a dress, but I can tell that she doesn’t have a bra on
underneath. Again, my cock wants to come out and say hi. Her small nipples are protruding
through the fabric, and I want to put one between my teeth.

I finally drag my eyes back up to her and say, “Lady, you’re mistaken. I’m Lane. You’re
probably talking about my twin, Liam. Are you an old girlfriend or something?”

Liam always found the hottest chicks. It had to be his brooding, mysterious personality.
I was always more selective, but he loved them all. They flocked to him in hoards.
It was annoying as fuck.

“Old girlfriend?” Her voice is becoming shrill, and I have the urge to grab her shoulders
to shake some sense into her.

“What then?” I demand. We aren’t getting anywhere with this conversation.

“I guess if you call last week old, then yes. When you see him, tell him thanks for
leaving me. This is ridiculous!”

Her words confuse the hell out of me, so when she flails her arms in the air in frustration,
I grab her wrist. The icy-blue eyes lose their luster and cloud over. Her body goes
limp. I realize that she’s fainting and pull her into my arms before she hits the
floor.

I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but my heart is racing like crazy as I carry
her to my bed and set her down. Hurrying into the bathroom, I locate a washcloth and
run it under the cold water. After I wring it out, I carry it back over to her and
place it along her forehead.

I sit down beside her on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out what’s wrong with
this woman. A few minutes later, she blinks open her eyes. At first, she looks at
me like she’s confused, but then she smiles at me with such love that my heart pounds
back at her.

“Liam, you came back,” she whispers and closes her eyes. Not this again.

I sigh as I pull the cloth from her forehead and reposition it across her neck. Her
eyes fly back open.

“I’m Lane, not Liam. What’s your name?”

Tears fill her eyes again as she remembers our conversation.

“You touched me. Don’t ever do that again,” she hisses at me, completely ignoring
my question. This woman is impossible.

“Woman, tell me your name. Now.” My voice is harsh, but I need to be able to call
her something.

“Sidney.” Her chin is quivering again, and I can’t help but lean forward. I want to
stop it, but as I get close to her with my thumb, she flips the fuck out. “GET AWAY
FROM ME!” she screeches as she rolls away from me on the bed. Her dress has ridden
up, so I get a glimpse of her bare ass before she leaps off the bed on the other side.

“Sidney, what the fuck is your problem?” I demand. I’ve got a lunatic for a neighbor.

“Where is he?” she screams, her voice shaking. Again, she is ignoring me, and it pisses
me off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you insane?”

Her face falls and I instantly regret asking her that. Clearly she’s upset because
she is, in fact, insane—at least to a certain degree.

“He made me love him and then he left me last week. Why?” she asks, her bottom lip
trembling fiercely.

Her words light a fire inside me. Even though I can tell that she’s mentally unstable,
it pisses me off that she would even insinuate such an asinine remark.