You call this fate?

Chapter 17

"What the hell are you doing?" I shrieked.

"Keep quiet, Miss Mahal," he ordered.

"But--"

"Brace yourself," he said. He grabbed one of my hands and placed it on the wall, subsequently vanishing from under my other, upsetting my balance. If I hadn't had support, I would have nose-planted.

Like a tornado floating through the apartment, he swept into the kitchen and looked around. It didn't take very long. Then he rushed towards the only other door in the room. My heart jumped into my throat when he entered there, the damned gun held up in front of him.

"Hey, get out of there!" I said. "Tasha!"

Tasha rushed forward, but was met by Mr. Rodwell at the door, who appeared to be coming back out.

"Out of my way, Miss Evans," he said. The gun was held loosely in his grip.

Tasha glared at him, her arms akimbo, not fazed at all. "What do you mean get out of your way? How dare you come into somebody else's home like this and snoop around?"

He spared her a glance of little interest. "Just like I do everything else, it seems. Effortlessly." Then he pushed past her, leaving her seething in his wake, and addressed me. "Your house is empty, Miss Mahal," he declared.

I looked at him, at a loss for words, my eyes wide open and, to my everlasting shame, I think my mouth was hanging open too. I blinked. "What do you mean the house is empty?"

"I really don't like explaining things over and over again, Miss Mahal, you know that. I mean, the house is empty. You are safe."

"I--what? Of course I am safe. Why would you ever think otherwise?"

He watched me, his eyes narrowed. A long moment passed. Then, "There was never someone in your house, was there?"

"No! Of course there wasn't."

"Then why did you call me? Do you have any idea what time it is?" He ran the fingers of his right hand through his tousled hair in annoyance.

I flushed. "I do. I wanted to tell you something but you just said you were coming over and hung up! Whatever was I supposed to do? I kept calling you back but you won't pick up." I felt anger boil in my ears. "You can go right now, for all I care. I didn't ask you to come here." I waved a hand at the door.

Something dark and angry surfaced on his face. "I do not like being played the fool, Miss Mahal."

"I did not play you for a fool. If you had heard me out, this would never have happened. I mean, why would you ever think I would be in dang--" My eyes widened. "Oh," I said, understanding now. "You thought I was in danger. Mr. Rodwell," I said, "does this sudden concern for my safety have something to do with whatever it is you are doing? You and your brother?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," he stated casually, scratching at his chin with the barrel of the gun. It did cross my mind that it would seriously hamper my plan if he blew his brains out.

"You know, Mr. Rodwell, maybe I don't want you to leave after all. Why don't you sit down?" I slid to the ground and grabbed my fallen crutches. Climbing back up, I shut the door and turned the lock. "Tasha, maybe you should make our guest a cup of tea? I have a feeling he is going to feel pretty parched after our little catching up." Wow. I was so proud of myself. That sounded exactly like what a dangerous movie heroin would say. I mentally patted myself on the back.

"Why should I?" Tasha asked, really pissed. "I am not your servant."

I sighed. Trust your friend to ruin your moment. I turned the lock again and fastened the chain.