Nightmare Neighbor

CHAPTER 6 - Maddie

I was wrong; I did not have this. I couldn't deal with that guy.

He left about an hour after our unfriendly introductions, his departure announced by a loud slam of the front door. Yet, I couldn't shake off my irritation. There was no way I'd be able to write in this mood, so I watched Netflix instead. After the screen went black, informing me I'd finished an episode of my new favorite series, I peeled myself off the couch to do something productive.

The first and only item on my to-do list was to get the essentials I needed, so I called an Uber to take me to Target. I browsed the aisles for over an hour, throwing pretty much everything I laid my eyes on into my trolly. I realized what a mistake it was when I ended up with six bags full to the brim, three of them groceries.

How was I supposed to get all of that home? I had zero upper body strength, and these bags were a real bitch to carry, their thin plastic handles biting deep into your flesh. I barely made it to the parking lot before they cut off circulation in my fingers, and I had to set them down. At that point, I wasn't above begging my driver to help me carry everything inside my apartment. Sadly, I got picked up by an angry-looking lady in her fifties who dropped me off in front of the house and sped away as if she could smell my desperation.

I collected my cargo and climbed the short stairs to the front door as quickly as possible. The plastic handles from my right hand slid to my forearm as I frantically looked for keys.

Someone behind me cleared his throat. I moaned in response. Universe loved to torment me.

"Do you need help with that?" Alek sounded so annoyed I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything. I kept digging through my handbag, ignoring the sharp pain in both arms. I refused to show weakness in front of that man.

A black hole must have opened in my bag and swallowed the keys; there was no other explanation for why I couldn't find them. Seconds passed by, and the tension kept increasing. Alek's gaze was trying to burn a hole in the back of my skull.

"I would like to get home before sunrise. Please, step aside so I can open the damn door." His voice was sharp with irritation. Part of me wanted to stand my ground and finish my task no matter how much time or pain it would cost me. But my arms were about to fall off, and I needed them to write, so I swallowed my pride and moved to the side.

Alek muttered something I didn't understand and unlocked the door, hurrying into the lobby without checking if I made it through before the door hit me in the face. A real gentleman, this one. I grimaced at his back and headed for my floor, a quiet groan escaping my lips. I wasn't looking forward to climbing those stairs.

Alek must have heard me because he hesitated on his doorstep, shoulders tensed up. He swung around and returned to me with his arm reaching out. "I can carry it up for you." His painful expression killed any chance of accepting his offer.

"No need. I got it."

"You'll fall and break your neck."

"I got it," I repeated.

"Your hands are turning blue. Let me help you. We can resume pretending the other one doesn't exist after that."

I'd never admit it out loud, but I liked his plan way more than my own, as it shortened the period of my suffering. At the same time, I didn't want to owe him anything.

Alek didn't wait until I decided, grabbed the bags from me, and off he went. I stared after him as he climbed the stairs with no effort, my mouth hanging open. What a pretentious douche! Unfortunately, his backside was incredible. The dark fabric of his suit stretched over his muscles, bearing witness to their firmness. It was one of those asses you couldn't wait to dig your nails into as its owner thrust into you...

"You coming?"

Jesus Christ.

Alek waited in front of my door. I shook my head to get rid of the dirty picture, but it didn't do much.

"Are you going to open, or should I kick your door down?" he asked as I joined him. I couldn't tell if he was serious.

"Just put the bags down here. I'll carry them inside."

I expected him to bail immediately after setting his cargo on the floor. He didn't. "That's a lot of food you got there. Are you throwing a party?"

Definitely not. I preferred to keep to myself. "I've just moved in," I said, although it was none of his business. "I need supplies. There's nothing but cobwebs in my kitchen."

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.

I wanted to leave it at that, but my good manners wouldn't allow it. "I appreciate your help."

"No problem." He put his hands in his pockets and headed for the stairs.

I moved to clear his way, thanking all known gods for his departure. I caught a whiff of alcohol from his breath as he walked by.

Unbelievable. "Are you drunk?"

"Hardly. I had one drink."

"It's not even three in the afternoon!"

"Listen, lady. I had a shit day and..."

"Stop calling me lady. I'm not forty."

"Could have fooled me."

I clenched my fists, my fingers begging me to wrap them around his thick neck and squeeze until there was no oxygen left in his body. If I played my cards right, I could get the prosecutor to agree to a plea bargain and reduce my charges from murder to voluntary manslaughter. Under the California Penal Code, voluntary manslaughter was a felony punishable by up to eleven years in state prison. It would be totally worth it if you asked me.

Alek glared at me, his blue eyes icy as ever. He must have been talking to me the whole time, but I was too busy with vivid daydreaming of his inevitable demise to pay him any attention.

"Have you heard a word I said?"

"Nope." There wasn't a single drop of shame in my voice. I opened my door, which I luckily forgot to lock, grabbed the shopping bags, and somehow got them all in simultaneously.

I looked at Alek as he stepped toward me with a clenched jaw, ready to fight, and slammed the door in his face.

He swore. I hold my breath, waiting for him to bang on my door to open up. Instead, he stomped downstairs and slammed his own door closed. I grinned, picked up two of the bags, and headed for the kitchen, the sweet taste of revenge still on my tongue. I'd never get sick of it.