"The Right Man" is a crime/detective fiction short story.
I stretched out my arm and grabbed the door handle. I gripped it and took a deep breath. I pulled down and the door opened up; that was the first bad sign. I reached in and turned on a light. The loft looked just the same as it had yesterday and was as empty as my rye bottle. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Holy s—! I can’t f—ing believe it!” Mary broke out into something that resembled a laugh. “I f—ing left my door unlocked!” This time she made sure she shut and locked it.
Every time that girl opened her mouth, a cuss word spilled out. Not that I had some sort of problem against cussing; but I was getting tired of it. I was starting to see why she and Mark fought. Poor guy, his ears couldn’t take it.
I took a look in each of the rooms; no one was in. It was a lucky break that seemed almost too good to be true. I followed Mary into her bedroom. She pulled a large suitcase out of her closet and placed it on her bed. She started to put clothes in and I helped. The faster we could get this suitcase full, the faster she could get out of town, and the fast I could get my damn nose out of this mess. We filled it up quickly and zipped it up.
“Alright, now that we’ve got that knocked out, let’s get you the hell out of here.” I said. We both turned and headed towards the door.
I knew my luck was way too good that evening. First my wonderful time with Sally Mae, then my stroke of luck with door; it was all too good to be true. My luck ran dry when we entered the living room. Mary ran a few steps ahead of me towards her door. It was wide open; I swear that girl is so damn absent minded. Mary turned to me with a look of sheer terror; suddenly she started to scream. Before I could figure out what the hell she was screaming about, I felt a heavy knock against the back of my head. And then that damn darkness came back.
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