Walls of Fire

9: Knock! Knock!

"SHE AIN'T HERE." The other voice replied angrily.

My fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm on the thought the upcoming events. Paralyzed with fear, my frozen feet refused to move.
Adam's presence alone hung like a threatening hail-cloud over the sprouting harvest of my peace of mind.

"Amy Scott, I know you are here! Get your ass out or else I will be forced to call the cops."

He hammered on the door with all his force, producing a strong consequent sound which could shove a person off his feet.

"Man, the owner of this house is James Black and he doesn't have a roommate. You're causing unnesscary commotion here. It's not justified."

I was assured by now that the hoarse voice belonged to my beloved, loyal and caring husband Adam Scott.
However, I was indefinite of who the other man was. It wasn't James; he had a husky profound accent with a well - timed voice modulation. The sound of the other man resonating in my eardrums was loaded with ponderousness and flatness. There was a rush in his voice.

"So is my wife spending nights with another man." Adam sputtered out a loud laugh and said meekly, undoubtedly just so as to ridicule the situation. "It wasn't a joke when I said I won't be hesitating to call the cops."

I gulped down at the mention 'cops'. His threats never failed to terrorise me. I should not have underestimated his power; afterall he was a playboy. I cursed myself for my immense lack of knowledge about his potentials.

I lowered my position to adjust to the standard of peephole which sitting at the center of the wooden door. Through the display of faded blue curtains, I peered at the two hazy figures moving around my doorway.

"How can your wife appear from behind a closed door? Are you twisted, Gentleman?" The other man who apparently looked a little aged exhibited a chortle at his own execrable pun.

"Show time." Proclaiming his threat, Adam leaned his body weight against the door, thus blocking the peephole and my vision.

"Damn you Adam." I kicked my foot in the air and began to wonder whether my venture was doomed to failure after the heavy gifted treachery.

Fear and fear. Fear encompassed my senses. I shouldn't have been afraid when the fault was not mine on the first place. But I was. Being a married woman, I was sharing the roof with a stranger which was a sin. I had no evidence to prove Adam had been cheating on me whereas, a complain would be lodged on my name for being disloyal to my legal husband. The whole thing had many complexities.

My dreadful thoughts about complications came to rest very soon, and I was taken aback by the sweet melody of classical music which filled the air. It stood out as a contradiction to the bitter environment. The melody was very familiar to my ears because it was the ringtone of my cell.

"If a cell phone can ring beyond a closed door, why can't a person appear from the same?" Adam confirmed firmly.

Motionlessly, I stood there paying close attention to their every word.
The fact that my presence could be cleared if the ringtone gets disrupted in the middle was accelerating in my mind. I dared not to reject his incoming call. Adam was not a man who would not give up so easily. Either way, he would have me falling in his trap.

"I'll repeat myself. James has been living here for two consecutive years and he has no roomate."

"You are mistaken old man."

"This can't be a strong evidence. The tenant must have left his cell at home," the old man, who might be the landlord of the apartment, tried to defend his statement.