With the glass in the bin and the bin bag tied up, Ally limped down the hall to her bedroom to grab a hoodie. She’d already changed into her pajamas after her bubble bath, and there was no way she was going outside in the skimpy short shorts and lacy tank top she wore to sleep in.
Ally didn't think she was bad-looking per se, she had long, deep red hair, and shockingly bright blue eyes that, over the years, she’d become accustomed to people commenting on. She enjoyed walking, so she kept herself fit, and she’d never had a big appetite so was fairly slim. Attractive enough, she guessed, but so used to blending into the background so as not to be a bother to anyone, that people usually walked right past her without seeing her.
Just the way she liked it.
At least that’s what she tried to convince herself of.
Slipping on an oversized hoodie that would cover her pajamas, she stuck her feet into an old pair of flip flops, hissingat the pain in her foot. She’d have to clean and tend to the wound when she got back.
If she let herself use it as an excuse, she’d never leave the apartment to take the trash out, and the thing was that even though Ally knew and accepted her weaknesses, she was tired of being a coward.
Tired of being lonely.
Tired of being ignored and overlooked.
For once in her life, she wanted to matter to someone.
Too bad that appeared to be wishful thinking.
Focusing on the pain in her foot with each step, she refused to look at the door of the apartment beside hers, refused to wonder if he was inside right now, possibly not alone. If he had another woman with him, she was sure she’d do something to embarrass herself like burst into tears right in front of him.
Crying had been a big reason she was an outcast as a child. It wasn't like she meant to do it, but she’d lost her parents as a baby, then lost her first set of grandparents as a preschooler, then moved in with her other set of grandparents, who were old and struggled to raise a small child. She was used to loss, and being a shy, awkward, introverted kid, she used to cry at the drop of a hat.
She really was pathetic, and if she didn't find a way to change who she was, then this was all she had to look forward to in life. It wasn't that it was a bad life, she lived comfortably and could pay her bills without worrying about money. She enjoyed reading, walks, and her bubble baths, but she was just so crushingly lonely.
Stepping out of the building, into the night, she wished the trash shoot had been working, but it had been closed for days now, so she had to bring the garbage out to the large bins in back herself. It was quiet out, and she shivered, something uncomfortable skittering across her skin.
Looking around, she didn't spot anyone, but it felt like she was being watched.
Was it …
No, that was crazy. If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her. After all, she lived right next door to him.
Shrugging off the feeling, she lifted the bin lid, tossed the bag inside, then turned around.
As she turned, she saw it.
A shadowy figure, moving toward her. Whoever it was wore dark jeans and a dark hoodie pulled low, blocking her view of their face.
She froze.
Knew she should run but couldn’t move her feet. Couldn’t even scream.
Instead, she just watched in horror as the man reached for her, grabbed her, yanking her pliant body up against his much bigger one. His breath was hot against the top of her head as he pinned her in place.
Not that he had to because she wasn't fighting.
Why aren't you fighting?
Ally never got a chance to answer her own question because something sharp pricked her skin, and she melted away into darkness, berating her cowardly self for once again letting herself down.
August 13th
10:01 P.M.
Coming back here so often was a mistake.
Yet despite knowing that, Mateo Adler couldn’t seem to help himself.