“How much?” I rumbled as I shifted to block his view of Indy.
“They’re three months behind.”
“I’m not looking to pay off their rent. She just needs to get her shit, then we’re out of here.”
“Sounds like ayouproblem.”
“If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’m happy to make it ayouproblem.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I leaned closer to him. “I got no problem coming back here with a few guys and making our problem your problem. So how about you unlock that fucking illegal lock you placed on my girl’s door and let her. Get. Her.Shit.”
I bit out the words until spittle flew into his face. I let all my anger and frustration over Indy’s situation leak out all over this asshole.
And I wasn’t bluffing.
I had no problem calling in a few favors. I wouldn’t even have to ask my brothers. I knew more than my fair share of unruly jackasses who’d love to cause this douchebag a world of hurt.
Gary flinched. His hand jumped like he wanted to wipe away my spit but was too afraid to move, uncertain of what I’d do.
Perfect.
Finally he nodded stiffly. “I just need to grab my keys.”
“We’ll wait here.” I took a half step back then raised my eyebrows. “But leave the door open.”
A few minutes later, we were following a jittery Gary upstairs and across the metal walkway to Indy’s splintery door.
Gary unlocked the door, pushed it open, then gestured for us to enter.
Indy’s large eyes bounced between us, and I twitched my head for her to go inside.
Then I turned and faced Gary. “Key,” I barked, holding out my hand.
“I can’t just give you the key. It’s, I’m, I don’t—”
“And I’m not giving you the opportunity to fuck us over and lock us inside.” I gestured at the padlock. “I know your type. I promise to drop it off before we leave. Pinky swear.” I mockingly held up my pinky finger.
Gary squinted. I could all but hear his thoughts as he tried to find a way to screw us over.
I stepped up to him, and he flinched. Holding out my hand, I commanded him like I would a dog. “Leave it.”
Gary grumbled but worked the key off the ring then held it out to me. I grabbed it and smirked. “Good boy.”
He glared at me then stomped away. Pretty sure I heard him mutter ‘asshole’ on his way.
I decided to be gracious and let it go.
For now.
When I turned around, the sight of Indy’s apartment made me want to whimper.
It was…well used. The walls were a dingy yellow from repeated smokers renting the unit, which was also obvious from the heavy smell. The carpet hadn’t been changed since the seventies, based on the green color and long-gone shag style. It was matted and stained in ways I didn’t want to imagine. Or walk on barefoot—ever. And the kitchenette also hadn’t been refurbished since the seventies, with its dark paneled cabinets and avocado green appliances. I had serious doubts about the viability of the wall oven unit, given the huge crack in the door.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
And the living room area wasn’t much better. At least the scarred leather-ish sofa looked newer than the fixtures. But the mix of scratches and stains didn’t make me want to sit on it, either.
