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 pictured this.
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 get her shit!” 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. Then I could beat that fucking creepy smirk off his face.
“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 a you problem.”
“If that’s how you’re gonna be, I’m happy to make it a you problem.”
“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.
It was also the only piece of furniture in the room. No kitchen or coffee table. No television. No nothing.
What the hell?
“Indy?” I called. “Do you want some help packing up your stuff?”
“No!” she shouted back. “Don’t come back here! Please!”
My heart felt heavy in my chest. Given the state of shit out here, I could only imagine what her room looked like. Did she even have a bed? Or was she just curling up at night with a pillow and a blanket? I really hoped she had that at least.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, do you want me to pack anything else up? Do you want anything from that other room?”
There were two bedrooms and a bathroom, I assumed from the number of doors.
“No…I…I’ll grab a few things. Don’t worry about it.”
I shifted my weight, uncomfortable doing nothing. I was always one to have shit to do, whether it was painting or working at the shop or helping Aunt Wendy at the restaurant. Inaction led to insanity as far as I was concerned.
My skin crawled as I looked around her apartment again. I couldn’t reconcile Indy with this… slum. She was so vibrant and gorgeous and…innocent.
This was where she’d lived for over a year? Really?
“Here’s one bag.” Indy walked down the hall with a large duffle, tossing it into the room. Some of her hair had escaped from her ponytail and she looked kinda frazzled. “Then I just have my school stuff and whatever I need to grab from my dad’s room. I’ll be just a second, I swear.”
“Got nowhere else to be today. You can take your time.” Ignoring the duffle bag and the collection of stains on the sofa, I sat down on the end of the couch.
Kicking back, I pulled out my phone and tried to pretend like my skin wasn’t crawling.
“I’m good here. Just make sure you pack everything you need.
We don’t want to have to come back, right? ”
“Right.” Indy whispered. And despite how much I really wanted to check in on her, I didn’t look up from my phone screen as I toggled through my texts.
Aunt Wendy: I expect to see you at family dinner this weekend. No excuses
Shit. I’d managed to duck dinner last week. After I screwed over the family, chose my asshole father over the people who actually loved me, and almost ended up in prison for it all, I wasn’t exactly eager to spend time with them.
How did you tell everyone in your life that you were stupid, regretted every choice you’d made, and wished like hell that you could take the actions of the last three years back?
How could I ever make up for it all?
I couldn’t.
Nothing I could think of would ever make it okay.
Nothing.
“All right. I think that’s it.” Indy puffed, standing in front of me as she held two duffels, her backpack, a computer bag, a pillow, and a large stuffed bear.
It was the bear that made my blood freeze.
“How old are you?” I barked.
Indy’s eyes widened and she took a stutter step backward. “Nineteen. Why?”
I closed my eyes with a sigh then shook my head. “Sorry. I’m being an ass.” I pushed up off the couch and walked toward her. “Give me the bags.”
“No, that’s okay. I got it.” She gave me a wide berth and speedwalked to the front door.
And I let her go.
More than anything, I needed her to know that she was safe with me.
I kicked myself for making her question that when everything else in her life was imploding around her.
After I flicked the key at Gary’s front door and drove us both home, I pulled my truck into my parking spot next to my custom-built Harley Softail. My eyes ran over my bike that I hadn’t ridden in forever.
And then an idea sparked in my brain.
I turned off my truck then held out the keys to a still silent Indy. “Here, let yourself in. Unpack whatever, wherever. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Her eyes warily flicked between me and the keys I held. After a beat, she gingerly took them. “Okay.”
I held in my sigh at her obvious wariness. “Don’t forget to lock the truck. I’ll be back.”
I headed for Nathan’s place, two doors down from mine. All three of us—me, Nathan, and Ryan—had bought condos in the same block. It’d felt like a good idea at the time, but as they all paired off, it’d just underlined how alone I was most days.
Case in point, when I reached Nathan’s door, it was open and judging by the giggling and squealing coming from inside, I was interrupting the love birds. Again. But I had to run my idea by someone and like hell was I braving Hope’s wrath if I woke my niece up from her nap—again.
Pushing the door a little more open, I took in the scene in front of me. Nathan had Maddie over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and was heading toward the hallway and the bedrooms beyond no doubt. Maddie was giggling and squealing as she hung over his shoulder.
I hated like hell to interrupt, but now was better than five minutes from now.
I cleared my throat loudly.
Maddie lifted her head and peered at me as I stood in their doorway.
“Uh, you guys might wanna close this before you get too busy.” I rubbed the back of my neck uneasily.
Nathan grunted and turned slightly toward me. “Thanks for the tip. Bye now.”
“Wait.” I lifted a hand. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about, Nathan. If it’s not a bad time.”
“It is. Bye now.”
Maddie slapped Nathan’s behind. “Stop. Let me down.”
“Seriously? But we were going to—”
“Now, Nathan,” she snapped.
Nathan whipped her around to her feet. She took a dizzied step and had to grab Nathan to stay upright. He smirked and slid an arm around her shoulders.
“What’s going on, Dyl?” she asked.
“I, uh, it’s shop business, but I, uh, had an idea about the receptionist position.”
“Does the person you want to hire have at least three brain cells?” Nathan asked with a frown.
“Yes.” I nodded. “She’s actually pretty smart. She—”
Nathan waved a hand. “Does she want to be an actress or a singer or something?”
“No.” I smiled slightly. “She hates fake people and can’t carry a tune to save her life.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic. She’s hired. Now get the hell outta my living room.” Nathan took two steps to the door, dragging Maddie along with him, and all but shoved me out of his condo. The door slammed shut, and I heard the lock twist.
“I guess I’ll tell her she starts Monday?” I shouted through the closed door.
Not that I got a reply.
Now all I had to do was convince Indy.