The Balcony

Chapter Two

Emma awoke the next morning in the very same position as the night before. She must have been exhausted. Had it all been a dream? A nightmare? She sat up quick, realizing that she still wore her shorts and t-shirt from last night. Stepping tentatively toward her balcony, she stopped short. Hearing the incessant strumming of Wraith's guitar, she determined that it had not been a dream. He had been in her room last night. His creepy friends had dared to leap onto her balcony. She shuddered, seeing her glass of lemonade and book sitting neatly just outside her door.

Ridiculous! She chastised herself for letting them get the best of her. It was all a big game to them. Obviously, they were just out to give her a good scare. Well, that wasn't acceptable and she was going to let him know exactly what she thought of him and his two rude friends.

"Excuse me?" she called out, stepping up to the edge of her balcony. He wasn't so scary in the daylight, she thought, watching him pull on the strings of his unplugged electric guitar. "Hello?" she repeated when he didn't acknowledge her, his tousled dark hair obscuring his features. He continued to methodically play the repetitive melody undisturbed. What was with this guy? She was really getting annoyed with his lack of acknowledgment.

Look at him sitting there on that ratty old couch. Did he not own a shirt? What was with all the chains hanging from his pockets, and the safety pins fastened along his jeans from his ankles to his knees?

"Fine, ignore me if you like. Actually, I would prefer it that way from now on. And I would appreciate it if you would tell your two rude friends that the next time they step onto my property, I will call the police!" She crossed her arms in front of her. "Oh, so you can hear me," she said, seeing him slowly pulling his guitar strap over his head. "And another thing, I want you to know that you had a lot of nerve entering my apartment last night." She backed away as he stood up and stretched. Good lord, he was tall, excruciatingly slim with every muscle plainly visible under his pale skin.

"You had no right to invade my space like that." She took another step backward as he turned and faced her. She held her breath when he stepped toward the edge of his balcony and leaned casually over the rail. "Have I made myself clear?" she asked as he slowly swept his silvery gray eyes over her, from her feet to her face, his expression unreadable as he continued to stare. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Wraith?" she demanded, hoping to get an answer to her question.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath as though she caused him great pain with the sound of her voice. "Emma..." he spoke, no louder than a whisper.

"Yes, that's my name," she said haughtily. "By the way, how do you know my name?" She had never introduced herself. She frowned, warily studying his drawn expression, his gaunt features and the dark shadows under his desolate eyes. Despite it all, he was strangely breathtaking, a handsome devil to be sure.

"Welcome home," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing her a card.

She hesitated, took a few steps forward and snatched the card from his outstretched hand. Sure enough, it became all too clear as to how he would have known her name. She studied the identification card with his blurry but unmistakable image and read his name. "Rafael? Rafael Lake? That's your name? You're the landlord?"

"The name is Wraith," he clarified.

Emma's mind raced. If he was the landlord then who was that other man in the overalls and baseball cap who had shown her the apartment last week? To whom had she given all her information? "But then, who was...?" She'd been so enamored with the place that she truly couldn't recall the man's features.

"Phantom perhaps, or maybe Angel, they like to help, in their own way. You must have met their approval. They're very particular about who moves in next door."