The Suspect

chapter 19

I am two honks away from flinging myself out of the window and onto the busy highway.

The drive back to LA has been, in other words, very eventful. It's been about two and a half hours since we began our drive and Tatum is driving me crazy. But again, when is he not?

Every time a car so much so switches lanes and into the lane he's driving in, he slams his hand on the honk. Every time someone overtakes him: honk. Every time he needs to switch lanes—surprise alert—honk. I suggested driving instead, but cars are a man's baby so there's no fighting that one.

The ball is tomorrow and I've yet to find a dress appropriate enough for it since many of mine are more casual and not very formal. The other thing that has been on my mind apart from the case itself is the fact that Tatum is so relentless about the ball. There's nothing in my power I can do to prevent him from coming—apart from locking him up in a cell, which may or may not happen soon enough depending on how and when we solve this case.

Finally, about fifteen minutes later we arrive at my apartment and I can finally feel like I can breathe freely.

He pulls up into the garage, and I'm out the door as soon as he puts his foot on the brake.

I inhale the fresh air of freedom and savor it before exhaling. It's then I remember I'm still in Tatum's clothes, only now with the addition of his large, oversized sweatpants. They feel like poison on my skin or like ants crawling up my legs and arms instead.

I head to the elevator without sparing Tatum a glance and just before the door closes a hand comes in between them and stops it.

I tilt my head as Tatum steps in and stands beside me, which immediately makes me step to the other side, far away from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" I fold my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling conscious of the tight space.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he shoots back and I tilt my head up, resting it on one of the walls of the elevator.

"Why do you always respond to my questions with a question?"

"Why do you ask so many questions then?" he retorts and I groan. Loud.

The elevator finally dings when it reaches my floor and both Tatum and I move to walk out at the same time. Unfortunately, because of Tatum's overly big frame along with my height, the width of the entrance to the elevator doesn't accommodate both of us together.

Our shoulders bump, and I instantly push against him to get out first but so does he. He pushes next, but so do I.

"Haven't you heard of the phrase ladies first?" I bite out, still in the same position.

Tatum still doesn't budge, however. Slowly turning his head, he looks at me and smirks.

"Well, I'm afraid nothing about you screams lady-like," he insults like it's in his vocabulary and before I know it he's out the elevator while I stay frozen by his comment.

And they say chivalry is dead.

I walk out and head to my apartment, surprised to see Tatum already standing in front of it. How did he...?

Taking out my keys, I unlock the door but immediately come to a stop when I hear a shriek from inside the apartment.

Kiara almost jumps off the couch in instant, plastering her t-shirt to her chest, trying to cover it up. My eyes widen at the scene in front of me and immediately shut the door on Tatum's face without sparing him a glance.