CHAPTER THREE
A VISIT TO THE SOUTH SIDE
CATCH
L ater that afternoon, I monitored Bianca’s neighborhood. I noticed Tori’s neighborhood was just a step below Bianca’s. Tori’s house was the nicest on her block.
Men patrolled Bianca’s street like it was the fucking U.S. border. They had a system. Those living in the neighborhood drove or walked to their homes. Non-residents parked their vehicles and visited friends and family as well.
Where it got interesting was when a car halted at the corner in front of the abandoned liquor store. They were probably looking to score drugs. A man holding a little oblong black speaker directed the person to different positions within the block. He’d step back from the car and yell out a signal to one of his men. The guy returned to the vacant store, resting his foot on the brick wall, bobbing his head to the music bellowing from the speaker. Then the cycle continued.
This was Man-Man’s territory. I had to hand it to the guy. He had a smooth operation.
I circled the block a few times within the hour to get an idea of how many men were working the neighborhood.
After parking my truck, I holstered my weapons in my waist holsters, placed silencers in my tan colored cargo pants pockets, then exited the vehicle. I felt the corner boys’ eyes on me. That wouldn’t deter my visit to Bianca’s. Probably should’ve worn a bulletproof vest under my t-shirt today. I was in dangerous territory. Adjusting my mirrored aviators on my face, I checked traffic, then strolled across the street. The heat from the sun beat down on my black t-shirt clinging to my body. It was late August. The sound of kids’ happy screams hung in the air. Many of the children darted through water sprinklers in their front yards. I smiled as I admired the kids enjoying the summer heat.
My visit to Bianca’s home would raise suspicion. The corner boys would wonder if I was a cop. I didn’t dress like one. My attire today was more combat related. I had no clue what I was walking into. Didn’t make sense to wear a suit. Maybe next time I’d wear my mafia attire.
My knuckles rattled on the black screen door. The brick bungalow was in good condition. Her family took care of their property.
An older woman with chestnut skin swung the door open. Her auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders.
“Yes. How can I help you?” she asked.
“Hello, is Bianca home?” I smiled as I removed my sunglasses.
I knew she was here. About thirty minutes ago, I watched her carry groceries into the house. I didn’t assist because I wasn’t finished monitoring the neighborhood.
She raised an inquisitive brow. “And you are?”
“Catch,” I replied as I hung the arm of the sunglasses on my t-shirt.
“Bianca, someone’s at the door for you,” she yelled through the house.
“Coming,” I heard her reply.
“It’s best I don’t say your name, or her brothers will come running to the door.” She gave me a thorough glance from head to toe. “And you don’t want that.”
Telling her I wasn’t worried about Bianca’s brothers would get us off on the wrong foot.
“Are you Bianca’s sister?” I asked.
A little charm never hurt.
She smiled wide, placing a hand on her chest. “No, I’m her mother.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Landry. It’s clear Bianca gets her beauty from you.”
I pulled the deed to the house and found out the owners’ names: Mila and Eric Landry.
Mrs. Landry chuckled. “Well, thank you. But I don’t want to take all the credit. Her father helped too.”
We both laughed.
Bianca appeared next to her mother.
“What took you so long?” Mrs. Landry asked.
Bianca’s brows pinched together. “I couldn’t just jump off the toilet, Mom.”
Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “Bianca, you’ve been acting strange lately. What’s gotten into you?”
“Him.” Bianca pointed, snarling at me.
“I loathe him.”
Laughter poured from my throat. “Did you tell your boyfriend you met a guy who pushed your buttons?” I crawled under Bianca’s skin, right in front of her mother. She might as well have witnessed our dark and ugly relationship.
“Bianca doesn’t have-” Mrs. Landry started.
Just what I wanted revealed. Bianca didn’t have a boyfriend.
“Mom, don’t finish that sentence,” Bianca demanded.
“You love flexing your ego around. Don’t you?” Bianca gritted out.
“I enjoy watching your round nose scrunch up, and those beautiful eyes darken when I make you mad.”
“You’re disturbed,” Bianca bit out.
I tugged at the screen door handle. “Bianca, will you please step outside so we can talk? I came over to properly ask you out on a date.”
Mrs. Landry’s hand flew over her heart this time. “How romantic. Bianca, not many men put forth effort anymore. They say everything in text messages nowadays.”
Bianca rolled her eyes, then glared at her mother. “Mom, don’t romanticize this.”
“Bianca, I promised you something else, too. Step outside and we’ll discuss it.”
“Girl, I want to get back to my Netflix show. Go outside and talk to this man,” Mrs. Landry ordered.
Bianca unlocked the screen door and stepped out.
“Thank you, Mrs. Landry. It was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to coming in next time and meeting Mr. Landry and Bianca’s brothers, too.”
“We’d love that. If you don’t mind her three brothers grilling you, you’re welcome to come over for Sunday dinner.”
“Mrs. Landry, it would be an honor.” I grinned.
She flashed another smile. “See you soon.”
I waved at Mrs. Landry before staring down at my little troublemaker.
“Bianca, you’re driving me to the brink of insanity.”
“It doesn’t look like my actions are driving you away. How can I make you leave me alone?” Her arms crossed her chest.
Did she think that gesture would keep me at a distance?
Pulling her close, I leaned into her ear. “I know you want my tongue in that tight little pussy.”
“Oh, God, Catch, don’t say things like that,” she panted.
“Why not? I’m serious.”
“No, you’re not. You’re on some Jedi mind tricks bull shit,” she bit out.
Gripping her arms, I stepped back. “Bianca, I don’t normally behave so...”
She lifted her beautifully sculpted brow. “Brazen?”
I chuckled. “Bianca, I usually say what’s on my mind.” My smile withered.
“Women don’t usually yell at me unless...”
I reframed from telling her women yell, ‘Fuck me harder Daddy’. What could I say I liked when women called me daddy?
“I’m trying to say women don’t yell obscenities like get Reaper and Slasher to rip him apart.” It was my turn to raise a brow.
“Bianca, why did you want to harm me?”
“I thought you might’ve been sent to hurt my friend. We’re big on protecting each other.”
“Who would want to harm Tori?”
“Release me, Catch.”
She refused to answer my question.
Was Tori in trouble with someone else Ritchie didn’t know about? Fuck, my cousin really stepped into some shit.
My palms remained on her arms. “Back to tonight. I’d like to cook dinner for you.”
“What? No,” she barked out.
I pressed my lips to her temple. “Bianca, I promise I won’t try to fuck you. However, I want you to come on my face.”
There was a deep need within to satisfy this woman. I couldn’t explain why.
“Bianca?” I heard in the distance.
“Oh, shit,” she murmured.
Lifting my head, I turned in the direction of the voice.
“Who the fuck is that?” the man asked as he stared me up and down.
A sinister smile curled my lips as I leaped off the porch.
“Catch, no,” Bianca shouted in a whisper.