ALMA

That sick asshole...

My shirt had become a sticky mess because I was covered in sweat from the little interaction I had with Carl. His presence had me stressed, yet his absence somehow lingered. Without a doubt, our paths would certainly cross again, and I'd be driven to the edge, just as I was just minutes ago.

I should have checked before letting him in. If I'd known it was Carl, that door would have remained slammed shut, never to be opened onto him. I squeezed my palm, cupping my ...