The Grim Room

CHAPTER 28 and 29

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

Locking the blue beast, Chris walked toward the apartment. His whole body tingled. The leather jacket was hard, constricting his frame. What if no one answered? The headache had receded to the back of his head. He’d stayed sober but he’d change that soon enough.   

            If she wasn’t here, he’d stay and wait, question Alison. He’d wait until tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Next year. Whatever it took. He said this to himself. Whatever it took. He remembered the time, inside, when he’d said that about staying sober. This filled him with instant regret and sadness.

            His pockets were heavy and jangling. The skeleton key and bullets. Arriving at the door of 1767 Waller Street, his arm lifted and came down, quietly, on the wood. He waited. No response. Other colorful Victorian houses, like the Sunset District, similarly linked together, surrounded the neighborhood. A McDonald’s stood behind him. Golden Gate Park. Good. Rebecca lived in a …