She doesn’t like it. I can tell by the way her shoulders tense. But she goes anyway, disappearing up the stairs.
The second she’s out of earshot, Mrs. Hardinoff turns to me.
“Why are you with her?” she asks quietly. “Are you going to hurt her?”
I don’t deny it. “Maybe. What do you know about her?”
“I know she’s been through enough.”
My eyes narrow. “Like what?”
The old woman doesn’t budge.
I lean against the doorframe. “Why does she work for you?”
“Because I pay her.”
“You pay her more than market rate for cleaning.”
She doesn’t ask how I know. Just shrugs. “She needs the money.”
“For what?”
“That’s her business.”
I push off the doorframe, step closer. “Everything in this city is my business”
Mrs. Hardinoff meets my eyes without flinching. “If you’re going to kill me, do it. I’ve lived long enough.”
I exhale hard through my nose.
“Is she a threat to me?”
Her brows furrow.
“No, she just needs a way to get away from men like you.”
The words land harder than they should.
“Men like me?”
She shakes her head and turns back to her pot.
“She needs people she can trust in this world and you and I both know, you aren’t a man to be trusted.”
Chapter 12
Ayla
He left me.
Of course.
I walk home from Mrs. Hardinoff’s, by the time I get home. My legs and feet are done.
I shove my key into the lock, twist it harder than necessary, and push inside.
The apartment is dark. Empty.
