Chapter 44
“I was. You’re a little late.” I leaned to my right and flicked on a Tiffany lamp, which rested on an oval nightstand. Seconds passed, and the room filled with a brush of light: a dim peach hue outlined in navy blue.
“My apologies,” he said. At his right side was a wooden baseball bat that he swung to and fro like a golf club.
I wanted to ask him how he had found his way inside my apartment, but my view shifted from the bat to Matthew, and then back to the bat.
“Do you plan on using that?” I asked, pointing to the weapon.
“Only if you don’t listen to me.”
“You’re threatening me.”
“Call it what you want.”
“Listen,” I started to say, but he immediately cut me off.