The Dark Prince (rewriting)

Chapter 21

Highly Suspect - Little One

Reece

I sat in my car, parked on the edge of the sidewalk. I stared at the old apartment complex across the street, seeing a light go off.

I glanced around my car, double checking that no one was around. Not seeing a single person in sight, I got out and headed towards the complex. I headed up a flight of stairs, getting off at the second floor. I walked down the long balcony, seeing the number and stopping at the door.

I gently rapped on the window instead of the door, and took a step back. If I knocked on the door, she wouldn't answer.

I gazed down at the street below, seeing one of the street lights flicker.

Eventually I heard a click as the window unlocked. It was pushed up just an inch, not enough for me to look past and see who was there.

"Who is it?" She asked.

"It's me, Reece."

She groaned, then shoved the window up all the way before sticking her head out to look at me. Her jet black hair that usually ended at her shoulders was wrapped up in a towel, as if she'd just showered.

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"I need to talk to you. Something's happened."

"Yeah, I know." She drummed her fingers on the window ledge, her black nail polish glinting at me in the dim light.

"Anna, please. I'm desperate," I pleaded.

She drummed her fingers again, and I knew she was contemplating something.

"Fine. But you owe me, pretty boy."

"Anything," I said, relieved. Her window closed, and she opened her front door.

I quickly stepped in, taking in the atmosphere as I shrugged off my jacket. There was a huge tapestry hung up on the wall underneath string lights, and a puke brown sofa that had a purple blanket thrown over it. A large carpet lay on the floor, lined with intricate designs. The walls were completely covered by bookshelves, stuffed to the brim with books.

"Take a seat," she said, gesturing to the ugly sofa.

I sat, feeling myself sink into the pillows.

She sat across from me, tying her bathrobe tighter around her waist. She grabbed a bottle of liquor off the table in between us and poured it in a glass. She took a big swig, gulping it down.

"Helps keep the voices shut up," she said, seeing the way I looked at her.

"You want some?" She held the bottle out to me, but I shook my head.

"Suit yourself." She leaned back in her chair, holding the glass in her hand. She studied me for a while before speaking.

"Go on. Tell me what's got your panties in a knot."

"Remember the first time we met?" I asked.

She nodded in response.

It was just after a job that I'd had, and it was at some run-down pub on the outskirts of the city. I was sitting at the bar, drinking, when she came up to me. She handed me a piece of paper with her name and address on it.

"She'll come save you, don't worry. Just knock on the window if you have any questions." She left and I remember staring at the paper in shock.

How she knew what I'd been looking for blew my mind, and I went the next day to speak to her. She already known everything about me before I even opened my mouth.