Weariness pulled at her, slowing her steps and dulling her senses. Haley was focused on one thing and one thing only: crawling into bed and crashing for the next twelve hours.

The exhaustion was totally her fault. Friday night's movie night had extended into the entire weekend, broken only by her shifts Saturday night and Sunday afternoon. The rest of the time had been spent hanging at Megan's, watching movies, laughing, talking long into the early hours instead of sleeping. Like they were teenagers on summer break with no other responsibilities to worry about.

It had been fun, and exactly what Haley needed to get her mind off everything else that was spinning through her head. Only she was paying for it now, especially after working a double at Mystic's today to cover for one of the girls that had called out. The extra money and tips would definitely come in handy, but even that wasn't enough to ease the ache in her back and feet. Tomorrow was her day off and she planned on doing nothing but sleeping and reading and sleeping some more.

No, maybe it wasn't very exciting—but it was exactly what she needed right now.

She hefted the duffel bag over her shoulder and thumbed through the key ring as she turned the corner and headed toward her building. The parking—or lack of it—was the only thing she hated about working late. One of these days she would actually move. Maybe find a place that had dedicated parking instead of the free-for-all that currently reigned in the neighborhood.

Yeah, like she'd actually be able to afford something like that.

Haley pushed the depressing thought from her mind and climbed the cracked concrete steps leading to her building. She pushed the old metal door open with her shoulder then bit back a sigh.

The light on the second-floor landing was out. Again.

She swore under her breath, frustrated with herself for not buying that cute little keyring flashlight she saw at the store the other day. She had convinced herself she didn't need it, not since she had replaced the single bulb the other week.

She should have known better.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. No excuses.

She pulled the phone from her back pocket and hit the built-in flashlight feature before shoving the outside door closed. Then she started the climb up the stairs, her feet growing heavier with each step.

Maybe she should add elevator to her wish list of amenities for her new place. If she was dreaming, she might as well dream big, right?

She reached the top of the stairs, her nose wrinkling in distaste at the sour stench. Her mind was on autopilot, her hand already reaching out to insert the key into the lock, not really paying attention, just going through the motions like she'd done a thousand other times.

Something caused her to hesitate, something about the smell. Her fingers tightened around the keys. She frowned and took a cautious sniff.

Urine, strong and pungent.

No, she must be wrong. She tried to tell herself she was simply imagining things. Or maybe she wasn't. The apartment across the hall was vacant. Maybe some kids had gotten inside, used it for a party this weekend. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened.

Except she'd never noticed the smell of urine before. Alcohol, yes. Even a little weed. But never urine. And the hairs on the back of her neck had never tingled in warning before, not like they were now.

Haley stepped back, angling her body so she could see the door across from hers. Her fingers tightened around her phone as she held it up, trying to cut through the darkness blanketing the small landing. The door was closed, just like it always was.

Which didn't mean anything.

Haley tried to shake off the odd tingling along the back of her neck. She was overreacting, nothing more. She was tired and letting her imagination run away, in all the wrong directions.

So she smelled piss. So what? The building was a dump. The entire neighborhood was a dump. It shouldn't surprise her that someone had come in to use the hallway as a bathroom, not when the outside door was always unlocked.

She swept the phone in a slow arc around her, wishing the light was brighter. Wishing her fingers weren't shaking so much. She was overreacting, she'd be fine as soon as she got inside—

The weak light caught on something and she froze, her mind trying to deny what her eyes were clearly seeing. A stain marred the front of her door waist-high, the edges trailing down, like someone had thrown something wet on it.

Something that would leave behind a residue once it dried.

Something that wasn't water.

She sucked in a deep breath and nearly gagged, both from the smell and from the fear that was clawing at her. Another large stain was on the floor by her feet, the center of it still damp.

Haley didn't stop to think, just turned around and bolted down the stairs. Did she hear footsteps behind her? No, it was just her imagination, nothing more than fear making her hear things. She looked over her shoulder, nearly tripping on the bottom step, then lunged for the outside door.

She made it to the corner before she staggered to a stop and bent over at the waist, pulling in huge gulps of air. Panic clawed at her, making her heart race in her chest and causing a sheen of sweat to break out on her forehead. She closed her eyes, took several more deep breaths, forced herself to calm down.

Cursed herself for being stupid and overreacting.

What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn't the type of person to overreact, and she certainly wasn't the kind of person who panicked. That wasn't her, not at all. So why the hell had she taken off like that?

Haley took one last deep breath then straightened. She should have never run off like that. She was lucky she didn't twist her ankle or worse when she tripped. That was the last thing she needed right now. If that happened, she wouldn't be able to work. And if she couldn't work, she didn't get paid.

It was her own fault for being so stupid. For imagining the worst. Someone had pissed on her door. Big deal. She should have stepped around it and gone inside, then worried about cleaning it up in the morning. A few buckets of water and that would be that.

She should turn right around and go back to her apartment. Ignore the mess and go to sleep. That was why she had panicked so much—she was exhausted. Lack of sleep made people do stupid things.

Yeah, right.

Haley knew there was no way she would be able to sleep now, not just yet. She'd go to the bar instead, have a drink or two. Maybe shoot the pool balls around the table a bit. That would help.

She jammed the keys into her pocket, finally succeeding on the second try because her hands were still shaking. Stupid. So stupid. A drink was definitely in order.

The bar was nearly empty, as usual for a Monday night—or any other night, for that matter. Carl looked up when she walked in, his lined face briefly lighting before settling back into its perpetual frown.

"Want your usual?"

Haley started to nod then changed her mind and shook her head. "Not tonight. How about some whiskey instead?"

"Any preference?"

"No. Just make it a double. Chilled." She ignored the man's look of surprise and reached into her pocket, pulling out a few crumpled bills and handing them over. "Do I have time to shoot some pool?"

Carl glanced at the clock on the wall behind him then turned back and shrugged. "A little, yeah." He slid her glass across the bar then snagged the money. "Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I was working and hanging out with a friend." Haley raised the glass to her lips and took a small sip. The whiskey slid down her throat with a slight burn before hitting her stomach and filling her with a soothing warmth. She took another sip, waiting for the whiskey to work its magic and steady her nerves.

There. Better already. Now all she needed was to bang the pool balls around for a little bit.

She raised the glass in silent salute to Carl then headed toward the back room. Fifteen minutes, that's all she needed. Just enough time to finish her drink and work out some of her frustrations and she'd be good to go.

She dropped her bag onto one of the tables then dug around her pocket for some change for the pool table. Just the act of racking the balls was having a calming effect on her. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Or a combination of both. Whatever worked, Haley didn't care.

She took another sip—longer this time—then placed the glass next to her bag and chose one of the sticks from the rack against the wall. Haley lined up the cue ball then leaned over the table, forcing her mind to empty as she took her first shot. She wasn't very good and would never be able to play in a league, but she didn't care. Shooting pool helped her to relax, helped her get her mind off things, at least for a little while.

Maybe it helped too much. Haley wasn't sure how much time had passed before she became aware of the odd tingling along her neck again. This was different somehow, not quite laced with so much fear and anxiety, not like when she had been standing outside her apartment door.

Her body stiffened, her hand tightening around the pool stick as she spun around, expecting to see Jimmy standing behind her.

But it wasn't Jimmy.

An odd sense of déjà vu swept over her. No, it wasn't just déjà vu. It was something different, something that made a shiver dance across her skin, something that made the breath catch in her throat.

Zach was standing in the large doorway separating the bar from the back room. His thumbs were carelessly hooked into the front pockets of his jeans as he leaned against the doorframe, his dark eyes watching her. The pose was deceptively casual, at odds with the heavy tension she felt rolling off him in suffocating waves.

She straightened and held the stick in front of her like a weapon, tried to tell herself that her racing pulse was from nothing more than surprise at seeing Zach standing there.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

His brows shot up over his eyes then quickly lowered into a frown of annoyance. "You really know how to make someone feel welcomed, Red."

Haley clenched her jaw and gave him a frown of her own. "What have I ever done to make you think you'd be welcomed?"

Zach laughed, the sound low and somehow dangerous. "Not a damn thing." He pushed away from the frame and moved toward the table where her bag and drink rested. He reached for the glass, held it up to his nose and took a quick whiff. His brows shot up again in surprise. "Whiskey, huh?"

"Sometimes."

His gaze held hers as he took a small sip. Impatience washed over her and she took a step toward him, the stick still held in front of her. "If you want a drink, you can get your own and leave mine alone."

"Yeah, I might just do that. I think I need one."

Haley frowned, wondering what the cryptic words meant. She didn't bother asking. "Why are you here, Mummert? Slumming for the night?"

"Actually, I came to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I missed your witty charm and sparkling good manners."

Haley narrowed her eyes then closed the distance separating them. She grabbed the drink from his hand then stepped back. "You're an ass."

He didn't say anything, just kept watching her with that intense gaze. Haley took another step back, fighting the urge to down the whiskey in two long gulps. Why was he watching her like that? And why could she still feel the tension rolling off him? Like he was angry about something, only he was doing his best not to let it show.

Or maybe her nerves were still so frazzled from earlier that she was simply seeing things.

Haley pulled her gaze from his and moved back to the pool table, putting distance between them. It didn't help because she could still feel his eyes on her, could still feel the tension coming from him. "So why are you here, Mummert?"

"I stopped by Mystic's but you weren't there."

"Yeah, so? It's not like I live there, you know."

"So I figured I'd swing by and see if you were home."

"Why?"

He ignored the question and stepped toward her, his gaze still focused on her. Something flashed in his eyes, dark and dangerous. "I stopped by your apartment first."

Haley's heart jumped to her throat, threatening to strangle her. She raised the glass to her lips and took a long swallow, wondering if he'd seen what had been done to her door. Had he noticed? Had even gone upstairs? No, ridiculous. There were no lights on in her apartment, there would have been no reason for him to go upstairs.

Just like there was no reason for him to look for her. No reason for him to be here. But he was.

And Haley had no idea why.

She tossed back the rest of the drink then met his stare with one of her own. Could he see past the forced expression of impatience on her face? Did he know she was trying to hide her worry behind it?

"You better be careful, Mummert. I might start thinking you're turning into a stalker or something with the way you keep showing up like this."

"Stalker?" He stepped closer, close enough she could feel the heat of his body brushing against hers. "Funny choice of words there, Red."

Haley took a step back and bumped up against the edge of the table. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I'm talking about the little gift someone left for you outside your apartment."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He leaned even closer, his eyes glittering with a dangerous light. "And I think it's time we had a little chat."