Alonso Munich is Now Dead by S. Gates

Author:S. Gates [Gates, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Asexual, Transgender, Paranormal, Romance
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2017-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

My internal senses pegged the time at around ten, and a glance at my phone's lock screen confirmed it—9:49. My arms were suddenly heavy, and it seemed like too much effort to keep my eyes open. The tiny apartment was dim, so the clutter loomed around me in stark grays and blacks.

In what was probably the most unhelpful move possible, my brain flitted back to the last time I'd been on an acquaintance's couch, listening for movement behind the bedroom door. I glanced at my phone's lock screen again, as if it would provide any useful insight. There was nothing there but the time and the weather widget, and neither of them helped my mind be any clearer.

I strained to pick up any signs of life from the bedroom, but the crack under the door revealed no light, and I couldn't hear any movement from the other side. Even though I found Bobby abrasive, I still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that I was waking up to an empty apartment. There wasn't even any residual smell of whatever food Bobby had tortured in the toaster oven for his breakfast. He may have even left before the sun set for all I knew. With the way first Tyler, then Marcella, had kept to an almost completely nocturnal schedule, it had slipped my mind that people—normal people—could do things before the sun went down.

It wasn't long before my gaze landed on a hastily scribbled note. I flopped back on the couch without trying to read the chicken scratch. There was nothing it could tell me that I hadn't already figured out for myself.

I picked up my phone again.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled up the messaging app and typed, "Don't want to fight. You're important to me. Let's talk." Then I pressed send. A moment later, I followed up with: "Also please save me. Bobby is a slob."

It wasn't two minutes before I received her response: "OK. Be there soon."

Driving from Decatur to Tucker normally took about twenty minutes, so I was a little surprised to find that Marcella made the trip in thirteen. So far, she had shuttled me around and never driven much more than ten over the posted limit, but she had to have played it fast and loose to make it to Bobby's so soon. She texted me when she pulled in, so I left the door unlocked for her.

When she opened the door, I almost thought I felt my heart jump in my chest. She had been out of my life for only a few days, but it felt like forever now that she was standing in front of me. She wore an oversized sweater over a plain scoop necked shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. She looked frazzled, like she hadn't slept in a while or like she had been crying. Her disarray made me feel… something. Not quite like my heart aching, but something like it.

It took a lot more self-control than I thought I had not to rush to her side.

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