Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

since we were kids. Popular with a really bad reputation. And
not bad in a way people envied, either. It made people want to
avoid him, but not want to be caught avoiding him.
But still, rumor had it, girls were enamored. They thought
he was a challenge, and they thought they could tame him. So
I was warned—don’t be stupid enough to put yourself in his
path. He has no heart.
Well, no one had to worry about that. He’d already done
irreparable damage. The couple of hours I knew him as a kid
wasn’t worth any more harm he could do. I’d steer clear.
Using the remote, I clicked through the tracks, counting
until I found number fifteen, and then I raised my arms over
my head, straining the sore muscles in my back.
But after a moment, no music came from the stereo.
I picked up the remote and clicked Play again—and then
again.
I waited and nothing.
“Come on,” I mumbled a whine and headed over to the
wall.
Hitting the door frame, I followed the wall to the left and
scaled down to where the system was plugged in. But when
my hand grazed over the socket, the cord wasn’t there. I
fumbled over the socket with both hands. What?
I dropped my hands to the floor and found the plug laying
on the floor. How the hell did that happen?
I plugged it back in and stood up, puzzled, as I trained my
ears on any sound. Was someone messing with me?
I turned around, my back to the wall. “Is there someone
here? Hello?”
Something felt off.
Holding my hands out, I felt for the door and left the room,
heading to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Maybe I should
call Mr. Ferguson up here. He was one of the security guards
who patrolled the community at night.