I stand up and take the paperwork that Carl is holding out to me as he explains that it is my release form from the tenancy. I've—well, Rhodes has—paid up for the next two months so that Carl can start looking for someone new to move in without losing money over the holiday season.
"I understand, though. You're onto bigger and better things. Plus, that break-in was a bit freaky. Heard anything back about that?" Carl asks me. I can literally feel all the color drain from my face as he speaks. I don't dare to peek over at Rhodes at the moment, so I just shake my head.
"No, nothing. If I do, I will let you know," I mumble quickly. Carl nods and takes the paperwork back from me once I've signed and dated it, the pen shaking slightly in my grip. The police told me when I made the report that they would look into it, but I know that because nothing really bad happened and nothing was taken, it's unlikely anything will ever come of it.
"You'd think the police would put a bit more effort in, especially when one of them has a weapon. But we're adding more security to the place, making the building only accessible by key card, so hopefully that will make things better," Carl continues, not knowing how bad he is making this situation for me. "Anyway, just slip the key under the door once you're all done. Good luck with everything, Amelia," he says warmly as we shake hands. Without another word, he gives Rhodes a nod as he climbs over the sea of boxes on the floor and ducks past the moving men on the way out.
I finally lift my head up and glance at Rhodes. A wave of cold washes over me when I see the look on his face—oh fuck, is he mad. He's standing as stiff as a board with his jaw clenched. I don't know if I've ever seen him this mad before.
"What the fuck was he talking about?" Rhodes mutters, lifting up his hand to point towards the door that Carl has just walked through. His feet quickly carry him over to me as I lean against the kitchen island, away from the movers who seem to be nearly done with all of my stuff. Okay, I can't get out of this one now. I could try and tell him that it was someone else's apartment that was broken into, but that's just straight up lying. I haven't directly lied to him about it, I just haven't told the truth about it.
"Okay, just promise me you'll stay calm when I tell you?" I say hopefully, placing my hands gently on his forearms. He doesn't answer—I know he's not going to stay calm; I had to try something. I gently brush my hands over his taut muscles in an attempt to soothe him, but it fails spectacularly.
"Explain. Now," he tells me coldly.