Dead Pretty

bulb tomorrow,” I say, needing to fill the tension-fueled air.
“Audrey, it’s not a problem.”
“No, I’ll replace it.” I’m firm with my words. I hate owing people anything.
He nods again, accepting.
Then, he moves toward me, passing by the bedroom hallway, and I know the exact moment that he spots the dead rat because he stops still and stares over at it.
Shit!
How the hell did I forget about it?
Um … because your brain was overrun by your stupid sex hormones.
“Audrey”—he turns to look at me—“did you know there’s a dead rat in your apartment?”
Yes. No.
Shit.
Do I tell him that I knew? Or do I play dumb?
Won’t he wonder why I didn’t say something to him before?
Oh, Jack, by the way, there’s a dead rat lying on my hallway floor.
“No.” The lie is out of my mouth before I even truly knew I was going to say it. “Where is it?” I ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible. I walk over to where he is, stopping when the rat comes into my view. It’s even bigger than I first thought. “Oh God,” I say, feigning surprise.
“I take it, it wasn’t a pet?” he jokes before he walks over to the rat, leaning the stepladder against the wall.
But I’m really not in the mood for joking right now. I just wish he would leave, so I could get rid of the dead animal and put this whole shitty night behind me.
“No,” I answer, following behind him.
“It’s a big fucker,” he comments, crouching down beside it. “Looks like it broke its neck.”
“Maybe it fell,” I offer up.
Jack’s eyes lift to the solid plasterboard ceiling above our heads.
“Or not,” I add quietly.
“Weird that it broke its neck,” he muses.
He’s right. It is weird. Rats’ necks just don’t break of their own accord.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Someone killed it. They wrung that poor rat’s neck and left it here for me to find.
No. Stop it. Calm down.
There is a rational explanation as to how that rat ended up in my apartment with a broken neck.
There has to be.
But truthfully, I’m not feeling confident in that theory.
What I am is scared and stressed and confused.
“And you didn’t put a rat trap down or anything?” Jack asks, unaware of my internal anguish.
“No!” I snap, my anger and fear flying out of me and heading straight toward Jack. “I fucking told you that I didn’t know the damn rat was even here!”
Jack pauses, his sharp eyes trained straight on me.
Shit.
I can feel my cheeks heat with guilt and shame. I move my eyes away from his, which is damn easy to do this time. “Look … I’m sorry I snapped. I’m just …” I thrust a hand through my hair. All I ever seem to be doing around Jack is apologizing. “I really appreciate you helping me out. But I’m tired and cranky. I’ve had a long day, and I just need to get some sleep.”
“Okay,” he says in a low voice. “Do you need me to help dispose of the rat before I go?” he asks.
He’s still being kind to me after I just bit his head off. Not to mention the fact that I punched the guy in the face earlier.
God, I’m a terrible person.
Sighing at myself, I lift my eyes to look at him. I shake my head. “But I appreciate the offer all the same. And thanks again for the bulb.”
I start to move toward the front door. Jack grabs his ladder and follows me.
He stops in the hallway and turns back to me. He gives me an uneasy smile. “See you later, Audrey.”
I should just let him go. Let my bad behavior put him off me.
But I say his name before I can even stop myself.
I let out a breath. I know that apologizing to him—again—is only going to keep us being friends, but I do it all the same because I’m an idiot. And a slave to my hormones.
“I know I hit you earlier”—I wince because it sounds so awful to say—“but in my defense, it was self-defense.” I shrug. “And I also just bit your head off for no good reason, but … I’m not a bad person. Really. I’m just … out of practice … with people.”
Stop talking, Audrey. Stop now.
He puts the stepladder on the floor, keeping hold of it in his hand. “Should I even ask why you’re out of practice with people?”
I shake my head, and he chuckles, which makes me smile.
“I’ll bring that bulb by tomorrow,” I tell him, my hand on the door. “And don’t tell me not to bother,” I add when he parts his lips to speak.
“Wasn’t going to.” He gives me a grin that makes my stomach flip like a pancake. “You bringing that bulb by tomorrow just means that I’ll get to see you again.”
Then, that grin widens into a knee-buckling, eye-dazzling smile, and my stomach drags my ovaries into happy backflips with it.
“See ya,” he murmurs, that grin still in his voice. Then, he walks off toward his apartment, leaving me standing there like the fool I am.
I let out a breath and then shut my apartment door behind me, locking it up.
I head into my kitchen and grab rubber gloves, a trash bag, and some paper towels, so I can get this rat out of here, and after that, I’m gonna check every nook and cranny of my apartment, making sure nothing or no one else is lurking here.
And when that’s all done, I’ll Google large rats and look up how easy it is for them to get inside a second-floor apartment and also how likely it is for one to break its neck without falling or any outside help.
Although I already have a feeling that I know the answer to both of those questions.

It’s just after lunch. I went into town to pick up a lightbulb for Jack. I’m heading home now to give it to him. I have a feeling of nervous energy