The Psychopath's Prisoner

Chapter 16

Cheyenne woke up the next morning with Finnegan lying sound asleep on her stomach. It was only the second day that he was in her apartment, but she was becoming attached to him. He was a sweet, affectionate cat. Since she returned from Mrs. Warner's, he wouldn't leave her alone. When he wasn't in her lap, he was following her.

"You are the sweetest boy. How did you wind up with Daniel? He doesn't seem like a cat person." There was a loud knock. "I had better get that." She put Finnegan on the floor and made sure Finnegan wasn't anywhere near the door before she opened it.

"Hello Ms. Harrington."

"Mr. O'Neill."

"Michael, please."

"Then call me Cheyenne." She stared at him, confused. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. Mom wanted me to bring some leftover sandwiches to you." He handed her the plate and flashed a smile. Throughout the divorce, she never really noticed how good looking he was. She knew he was good looking, but didn't realize how good looking.

"Would you like to come in?" She opened the door wider and offered him entrance into the room.

"Sure. I can only stay for a few minutes, though. Got to get back to the office." Michael quickly took in the room's décor-simple yet tasteful.

"Would you like something to drink?" Cheyenne asked. "Some water, lemonade, anything?"

"Maybe a glass of lemonade, please."

"Okay. No problem." She sauntered into the kitchen and poured a couple glasses of lemonade. She thought about Michael and his being in her apartment, almost over-filling the glasses in the excitement. Why was she feeling like this? Why hadn't she noticed how....well, how sexy he was? She shook the thought off and picked the glasses up. Michael still stood near the door. "Please, have a seat." She handed him the lemonade and they moved to sit on the couch.

"So." Michael took a sip of the lemonade and then placed the glass on a coaster near him.

"So." Cheyenne held her glass closer and curled her legs up on the couch.

Michael eased back into the couch and placed an arm on the back so he faced her. "How's single life?"

"Scary. Lonely. Confusing. I love being independent, though. I'm figuring things out one day at a time."

"One day at a time." He nodded his head. "That's all you can do."

"Sure is." Cheyenne felt her stomach tighten. Why was she feeling like this? "How's your workload?"

"Full. Very full."

What could she say that would be interesting? Why was she so nervous? Her stomach had butterflies floating around.

"That's good, right? I mean, it's better than not being busy and out of work. To be honest, I wish I could get busy with my work. Between my sister and Gaby calling or coming over, it nearly makes it impossible. Throw in my neighbor, and, well you get the picture."

"Oh yeah. Mom was telling me about this neighbor of yours. What's going on with him?" He stared at her as he sipped his lemonade.

Cheyenne shifted her position and scoffed. "I just...he...I get a bad feeling about him. Not long after meeting him, my apartment gets ransacked and my tires were slashed. After knowing him for only a few days, he's asked me to watch his cat for him. Not to mention, the first time we met he noticed my lights on and came over with breakfast at six-thirty in the morning, which was odd. I don't know what he's up to, but it can't be good. When I asked what he did for a living, he quickly switched topics and started asking me about what I do. He didn't really say much about himself come to think of it."