I tapped in the code for Ellie’s unit and waited.
“Hello?”
“You didn’t eat supper.”
“What the—?Ringo, you fucking asshole.I’m sick and tired of?—”
I cut her off.“You didn’t eat.I got food.Let me in.”
“Are you insane?”
“Obviously, let me in.It’s cold out here.”
“Freeze.”
The intercom shut off abruptly.I dialed her number, hoping she hadn’t blocked me yet.
“Who the, goddammit Ringo.Go to hell.”
“Mexican.Street tacos, enchiladas, and chips.It’s getting cold.Open the fucking door.”
“Or what?”
Well, that was an easy reply.“I’ll show you exactly how secure your so-called security is.Easy way or hard way, El, which is it?”
Her sigh was audible.“What kind of street tacos?”
“Barbacoa.I’m not a heathen.”
The door buzzed, letting me know she’d unlocked it.I slipped in, and she opened her door.Light streamed from her apartment illuminating the hallway around her figure.
I had to ignore the urge to drop the food and bum rush her into her living room.She was way too trusting, and shouldn’t have opened the door before confirming it was me, not some random asswipe.
“Put the food on my table, then leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes spit fire.Instead of arguing with me, she lifted her phone.Her fingers scrolled on the screen.
“Are you calling the cops?”
“No.Don Manca.”
Shit.I grabbed the phone.“Don’t do that.”He didn’t like business calls in the early mornings.
“Give me my phone.”
Absolutely not.I did a quick calculation of time zone difference.He’d be awake, probably feeding goats or eating breakfast, but still.“Are you trying to kill me?”
Her eyebrow quirked up as if what I suggested was a novel idea.One worth exploring…immediately.
It was time to come clean.“You were followed.”
She scanned me from head to toe and back.“I see that.”
“Not by me.I followed the guy who followed you.”
Her nostrils flared.“You’re not scoring any points, dumbass.”
