Deadly Lies (Sequel to TBFOWS)

Deadly Lies- Chapter 22

            "I could've sworn this hunk of metal went faster." I exasperated as Cameron ran the fifth red light, by my persuasion.

            "Jillian, is not a hunk of metal." Cameron tutted in a scorning voice. "You've never had a problem with her before."

            Well Johns life never depended on Jillian's speed before, I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue and moaned when Cameron began to slow for a red light.

            "Cameron, please!" I cried and he blew past the sixth light.

            "What's the address again?" He asked slowing down on Johns street. Although I'd only been over his home a few times, I memorized everything about it like the back of my hand, it was John.

            "Just take a left here and I promise I'll never badmouth Gillian again." I mumbled as he blew another red light and shook his head in disapproval.

            "Jillian- and were lucky there weren't any cops around." He chuckled and I shook my head, unable to focus on anything but the apartment buildings looming before us. After instructing Cameron to stop in front of an average looking, six story, apartment building, I threw open the car door and turned to Cameron.

            "I'll be right back!" I said and gave a quick thanks before rushing towards the building.

            Suppressing a groan, I remembered that I needed a key. Hitting all of the call buttons at once, I anxiously waited for someone to open the door. After a few minutes of nothing, I hit the buttons on the other side and felt my heart clench when I heard a soft bzzzzing sound. Someone opened the door! I mentally thanked whichever apartment opened up and raced up the stairs, to the third floor. However, it wasn't until I got to the apartment, 3C, that it occurred to me, again, that I had no keys. Frustrated, I slammed my fist into the door and gasped when it felt as though an electric current wrapped itself around my clenched fingers. Cradling my throbbing hand, I kicked the door one time for good measure and clenched my teeth from letting the strangled groan escape my throat.

            "John." I mumbled leaning my head against the cold metallic door and pressed my hand against it a well, flinching from the sudden cold. Closing my eyes, I tried to think of what to do. I could ask the Super to open the door, but what would my excuse be? Rejecting the idea, I relied on all of the action movies I'd seen throughout my life.

            The hero always seemed to go up to the upstairs neighbor and use their fire escape to descend down to the intended victims home. Considering this, I realized that even if the upstairs neighbors would allow some girl into their home to sneak into their neighbors apartment at 12 in the morning, I didn't know if Johns window was open. Letting out a sigh, I looked down and locked eyes with door handle. Pursing my lips, as though the metal knob might bite me otherwise, I slowly reached down and wrapped my fingers around the cool metal, squeezing my eyes shut. I turned the handle and cried out when the knob turned and the door creaked open.

            "Oh John!" I breathed, unable to contain the tears that were spilling out.

            Walking into his home, it was nothing like the memory I had of his home first time he invited me over.

            The home looked as though a hurricane passed. Papers, books, folders, pens and papers were strewn about the house. There was not a single inch of open space for me to stand on. Every step I took made a crinkly noise as the papers withered under my weight.

            Focusing on the task at hand, I ignored the upturned bookshelf and destroyed coffee table (which doubled as his workstation), I dropped to my knees and started pawing through the papers with the same speed John had threw it down.