The Assignment

Chapter 2

The air in the dreary hallway was filled with the strong smell of a tenant's popcorn. I tightened my grip on the strap of my overnight bag, following Joey toward the exit. He insisted on checking around every corner to see if anyone was waiting to ambush us. I tried to tell myself he was just being paranoid.

As we descended the rusty metal staircase, I started to rethink living in that apartment complex. It really was the equivalent of a roach motel. The only reason I'd settled on it was because it was very affordable and I wasn't making that much.

I jumped at the sound of the metal creaking beneath my shoes. Joey halted me to peek around the corner, keeping his hand parallel to his hip. When he leaned forward to survey our surroundings, the back of his shirt rode up revealing a shiny black revolver in a holster fixed to his belt. My nerves were instantly heightened. I studied the way his fingers brushed against the pistol as he looked around for anyone that shouldn't be there. When he didn't see anything, he nodded to me, signaling it was safe to walk down the next flight of stairs.

Once we reached the ground floor, I waited for Joey to tell me what to do. He'd probably have flipped shit if I went ahead and walked outside like a normal person who had nothing to worry about.

"Wait here," he said, glancing around the lobby before slipping out the side exit door that only maintenance workers were supposed to use.

"Miss Turner?" Lydia, the woman who managed the front desk called my name from across the room.

I froze. I didn't know what to do. Was it okay for me to talk to her? Should I tell her what was going on? What if someone came in and grabbed me while Joey was gone?

Now I was the paranoid one.

A million questions whirled around in the tornado of emotions that my mind had become. I didn't want to do anything stupid or risky. I didn't want Joey to yell at me if I happened to say the wrong thing because I didn't have a clue how to handle a situation like this. It wasn't every day that an attractive police officer practically kidnapped me to save me from a hitman. Could you blame me for being discombobulated?

I smiled casually as if there wasn't a single dilemma in the world. "Hi, Lydia."

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked in her sweet grandmotherly voice.

"Of course." I continued to smile at her. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just used to you using the elevator. I know you hate the stairs. Your bag there looks like you're going somewhere. Are you leaving, dear?"

What the hell was I supposed to tell her? I couldn't very well say "I'm running away with some random cop that said I'm going to get killed otherwise." That would probably be suicide on its own.

I felt my blood pressure escalate as I anxiously awaited Joey's return.

"Just a couple days," I said vaguely.

"Oh," Lydia smiled, probably assuming I was taking a well-deserved vacation. "Where are you going?"

I wish I fucking knew.

"I'm visiting a friend," I lied, busying myself with adjusting my shoulder strap.

I wish I was visiting a friend.

"That sounds lovely!" she grinned. "Does your friend live in Boston?"

I liked Lydia. She was a nice older woman. But at the moment, the mix of my frustration and her long list of questions was making me want to strangle her.