chapter 6. The knock
596 Words
CHAPTER 6 — The Knock
The apartment felt too quiet after Marcus left. Lena paced the living room, checking the lock twice, then three times, then sitting on the couch only to stand again. Every sound in the building made her jump — pipes settling, footsteps in the hallway, the hum of the refrigerator.
She hated waiting.
She hated not knowing.
She hated the way her chest tightened every time she thought about Marcus walking into something he wouldn’t tell her about.
She walked to the window again, staring down at the street. Nothing. No sign of him. No sign of Rafe. Just the city moving like it didn’t care that her world had tilted sideways.
She turned away from the glass.
And froze.
A soft knock echoed through the apartment.
Not loud.Not aggressive.Just… deliberate.
Her pulse spiked.
She stepped toward the door, slow, careful, her bare feet silent on the floor. She remembered Marcus’s voice — Don’t open it for anyone but me. She swallowed hard.
The knock came again.
“Marcus?” she whispered, even though she knew it wasn’t him. He wouldn’t knock. He had a key. He would walk in like he owned the air.
Silence.
Her heart hammered.
She moved closer, pressing her ear to the door. She heard breathing — slow, steady, controlled. Not nervous. Not rushed.
Someone was standing on the other side.
“Marcus?” she tried again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
Her fingers hovered over the lock.
Then a voice — low, unfamiliar, male.
“Lena.”
Her blood ran cold.
She stepped back from the door like it had burned her. “Who are you?”
The voice didn’t raise. Didn’t push. It stayed calm, almost polite. “Open the door.”
“No.”
A pause.
Then: “Marcus sent me.”
Her stomach twisted. “He didn’t tell me anyone else was coming.”
“He didn’t have time.”
She backed up another step. “If he sent you, tell me something only he’d know.”
Silence.
Then: “He said to tell you he meant what he said.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“That he’ll come back.”
Her knees weakened.
But something felt wrong. Off. Marcus wouldn’t send someone without warning her. He wouldn’t send someone who sounded like they were reading from a script.
She swallowed. “What’s your name?”
Another pause.
“Open the door, Lena.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“No,” she said, voice shaking but firm. “I’m not opening anything.”
The breathing on the other side changed — not angry, but colder. More focused.
“Lena,” the voice said softly, “I’m not here to hurt you.”
That was exactly what someone who was here to hurt her would say.
She backed up until her legs hit the couch.
The knock came again — softer this time, almost gentle.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
Silence stretched, long and heavy.
Then she heard it — footsteps moving away, slow and measured, disappearing down the hallway.
She didn’t breathe until she couldn’t hear anything at all.
Her hands shook as she locked the door again. And again. And again.
She sank onto the couch, pulling her knees to her chest, staring at the door like it might open on its own.
Marcus had told her to hide if anything happened.
She didn’t know if this counted.
But she felt it — deep in her bones.
Something had just shifted.
And Marcus wasn’t here.
- Writer
