Grave Intentions by Lori Sjoberg Read Free Book Online

ventured next door to investigate.

chapter 3
    Sarah pounded on the neighbor’s door again, frustration mounting with each rap of her knuckles. Between the music and the yelling, she’d be surprised if anyone heard her knocking. Or maybe they were simply ignoring her. Either way, if no one answered soon, she’d go back to her apartment and let the police deal with the noise.
    The music suddenly stopped and the door cracked open.
    “Yes?” It wasn’t the blond she normally saw coming and going at odd hours. No, this guy was taller, leaner, with darker features and a laid-back demeanor. If she had to guess, she’d put him somewhere in his late twenties. And while he was attractive in a bad boy kind of way, she didn’t find him as appealing as the blond. He leaned against the doorjamb and ran his eyes over her. “Something I can help you with, darling?”
    “Uh, hi,” she replied, a strange feeling of unease making her heart rate kick up a notch. Considering the racket going on a few moments ago, this guy was acting way too nonchalant. “I’m Sarah Griffith, I live next door.” Like a dork, she pointed toward her apartment.
    He smiled, showing off a perfect set of pearly whites. “Adam. Nice to meet you, Sarah.”
    “Is everything okay?”
    He gave a casual shrug, which would have looked normal, except for the fact that his clothes were scuffed with dirt and he didn’t have any eyebrows. “Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”
    “Because I heard somebody screaming bloody murder in there.” She peered around his lanky form and gasped at the sight of the blond stretched out on the couch, looking like he’d been on the losing end of a fight with a grizzly.
    Holy crap, why didn’t she listen to Jackie? Sarah stepped back from the doorway and jammed her hand into her pocket, her fingers wrapping around the cell phone.
    “Wait!” Adam said. “Don’t go. Please.”
    He stepped into the walkway and she automatically took a step back.
    “I’m not going to hurt you. I swear.” Adam raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. His hands were filthy, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble. Then the cocky expression crumbled, replaced by a look of sheer helplessness. “Please, I could really use your help. There was an accident. I’ve tried to help him, but . . .” His voice trailed off as he glanced back toward the open door.
    Sarah’s gaze darted from Adam to her neighbor and then back to Adam. Self-preservation demanded she make a break for her apartment and call the police. It was the logical thing to do. But instinct kept her rooted in place, refusing to abandon this man who obviously needed help. Intuition railed against common sense, and she found herself entering her neighbor’s apartment and crossing over to the couch.
    “What happened to you?” she asked as she crouched down beside her neighbor, too shocked to do much more than stare. His short blond hair was matted with sweat and his jeans were smeared with dirt and blood. His T-shirt was ripped open, revealing a muscular chest marred by ugly gashes and chunks of shrapnel embedded in his skin. A large white Tupperware bowl was on the carpet beside the couch, filled halfway with murky water the color of rust. “You need to go to a hospital!”
    “No hospital,” the blond grunted. “I’m fine.”
    “Like hell you are. You look like death warmed over.”
    For some strange reason, that got a chuckle out of him.
    “Well, if you won’t go to the hospital, at least let me help clean you up.” She looked over her shoulder at Adam. “You,” she ordered, her memory reaching back to the First Aid Certification course she took during her sophomore year of college, “I need bandages and something to cleanse these wounds. Alcohol, iodine, hydrogen peroxide, whatever you have handy. And I need fresh water.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Adam disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Sarah with the task of performing first aid on her reluctant