Chapter 5
Dylan
My mood grew darker the closer we got to Indy’s apartment. I knew she didn’t live in the best neighborhood—it had been walking distance to the shop after all—but somehow I never picturedthis.
The building had been a relic in the sixties, let alone today. Because today it looked like a good stiff wind would probably topple it. Crumbling stucco with visible chicken wire spotted one side while rusty, black metal railings spanned the other. The walkway out front heaved in places that defied gravity. Not to mention the patchy, crumbling asphalt parking lot we’d just left. A few of the cars behind us looked older than the building, for chrissake.
As we walked toward the building, that creepy crawly feeling of eyes on us inched down my spine. I kept a hand on Indy’s back while I kept a wary watch on our surroundings.
I couldn’t believe this was the place that she’d called home for over a year. What the hell had her dad been thinking?
This place would’ve given Maddie’s shithole apartment a run for its money.
Damn.
“I, uh, I think his place is over there. Number twelve.” Indy gestured to a door a few down from our current position.
“Stay behind me,” I instructed as we walked toward it.
“But you don’t know Gary. It’s—he’s—”
“I’ve dealt with my share of Garys. It’ll be fine. I won’t let him near you.”
Indy nodded tightly.
“What’s your apartment number again?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Okay. Stay behind me…please.” I added the please, since she seemed very close to tears. I didn’t know if it was being here or approaching Gary’s door that was unnerving her, but clearly, she was freaked.
Once she slid in behind me, I lifted a hand and knocked on Gary’s door.
And waited.
A few doors down, a dog barked and a gameshow blared from a tv.
I knocked again, this time harder.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. Hold your damn horses,” a raspy voice grumbled.
After a few clicks and locks unlocking, the door opened a crack.
“What?” the raspy voice asked followed by a hacking cough that made me want to clear my throat in sympathy.
“How much to get into number 28?” I asked, no time for bullshit.
“You think I’m in the habit of letting assholes pick through people’s shit? Fuck off.” The door slammed shut.
I pounded on it again. “How about you let the kid in to gethershit!” I shouted at the splintery wood.
“What kid?” The door ripped open and a rail thin man in a wife-beater and boxers stood in front of me, scratching his slight belly. He looked to be in his sixties, judging by the white scruff on his chin and the little hair he had on his head.
I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at Indy but didn’t shift my weight. Like hell was I giving this asshole any more of her than I had to, and judging by the spark that lit his greasy eyeballs, I still gave him too much of a view.
A sleazy smirk curved his thin lips as he lifted a hand and rubbed it against his bristly chin. “Ah yeah. The girl. I wondered where you’d wandered off to. Looks like I’m too late. You already got a sugar daddy, huh?”
More than anything, I wanted to drive my fist through this bastard’s face, but first I needed him to let us into her apartment.ThenI could beat that fucking creepy smirk off his face.
