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“You know if you eased up on buying the ugly tattoos.” I point to the new one. “You would have the money to buy your own.”
He reaches out and slaps me in the face, making me stumble back. My foot lands on top of a tin can from the spilled trash, causing me to trip and fall on my butt. He leans down and shouts, “Fucking cunt, I told you to leave.”
“Shit. Look, I'm not here to piss you off, I just want to take care of your aunt, so how about we make a deal?” I plead, holding one hand to my cheek and the other in the air in surrender.
Fifteen minutes later Dingo and I reach an understanding and I leave, headed back to the condo. I can’t help but feel a heaviness in my chest. I’m dealing to someone else who isn’t sick. Breaking my agreement with the Chief once again. Pulling up in the parking lot, my face is still stinging from where Dingo slapped me. Looking in the rearview mirror, I see my cheek is red and is starting to turn blue in spots. “Damn, great,” I mutter.
Unlocking the main door, I head up the stairs, getting out the key to my place from my pocket. Putting it in the lock, I wiggle the key back and forth. “Jesus, come on. Unlock!” I complain. I hear and feel a snap. “Oh no!” I cry, looking down to see my fingers gripping half a key. Leaning down to the doorknob I see the other half broke off in the lock. “Crap, you gotta be kidding me. Can this day get any worse?” I seethe to myself, pulling out my phone. I dial the real estate management company and get a recording that they are not in today, but I can leave a message and they will get back to me in the morning. I have Mrs. Ruth's cell number, but shit, it's not like she can fix it. I'll just call a locksmith. I sigh, getting out my phone. I google locksmiths, finding one close to me. Calling them they say they can come out, but it might be a while.
Sitting down on the landing, I lean my head against my door tired, hurting, and ready for a nap when I hear the main door open downstairs. Oh shit, no, no, no please don't be him. Pulling my hair over to hide my face, I shut my eyes and hope he will think I’m asleep and will just go on past. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. They stop abruptly at the top of the landing, and I hear Linc's voice say, “Kitten?” I hear his footsteps again as he starts walking toward me, stopping right in front of my feet. I can feel him looking at me, but I don't move. A hand grabs my shoulder and shakes it. “Hey.” His voice is thick with concern. The warmth from his hand touching me makes my nipples harden instantly. Not moving my head, I open my eyes, looking up to see his beautiful face staring down at me.
“What are you doing out here?” he asks.
“Key broke in the door,” I reply, letting go of my hair, pointing to the lock. His eyes go wide, and he drops to the floor. Grabbing my chin in his hand, he tilts my face up, moving it from side to side, inspecting the red and blue handprint.
“What the fuck happened?” he growls, his voice like the edge of a serrated blade.
“Nothing!” I pull my chin out of his hand, but he tightens his grip, forcing me to look him in the eye. I watch as his beautiful irises go from a soft brilliant blue to dark and stormy. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he is trying to calm down, then releasing my chin, he stands up and asks.
“You call anyone about the lock?”
“Yes, I mutter.
“Good, come on, you can wait at my place,” he demands rather than asks, holding out his hand for me to take it.
“I'll wait here, I don't want to miss them,” I argue.
He shuts his eyes again, sighs, and then opening them he says in an authoritative voice, “Kitten, you can either get up and walk up those stairs or I can carry you. I don't care either way, but you’re going up to my place to wait!”
I lean my head back against the doorframe and shake my head from side to side. There is nothing in me that says going to his place is a good idea. The way he orders me around is irritating, yet I seem to like that someone actually gives a shit. I’m the poster child of daddy issues.
“Now, Kitten!” Clenching my jaw, I take the hand he still has extended out.
* * *
Entering Linc's condo, I am blown away at how beautiful it is. My mouth drops open taking it all in. The entryway floor is blue marble; the living room and hallway are all done in dark hardwood flooring. A gas fireplace is in the corner of the living room, with a large antique area rug covering the hardwood floor in the living room.
“You coming?” Linc hollers at me from a doorway down the hallway, breaking my trance.
“Uh, yeah. Your place is beautiful,” I admire, heading toward him still looking around wide-eyed, my mouth agape.
“Thank you,” he replies, waiting for me. I follow him through the doorway and find we are in the kitchen, which is no less amazing than the living room. Again, marble floors and countertops, all solid wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances and fixtures. Motioning to the kitchen table, he orders, “Sit.” I do, on one of the wooden chairs at the large rectangular table he has pointed to, as he heads around the center island to the refrigerator. I watch as he gets out bread, Gouda cheese, and butter, and places them all on a counter by an expensive-looking, stainless steel gas range. He gets a pan down, putting it on a burner he lit on the stove.
Cutting the bread and cheese, he butters the bread then places it in the pan. Ten minutes later he brings two plates to the table, setting one in front of me.
“What would you like to drink?” he asks, going to the refrigerator.
“One of the beers you took from my place would be great,” I mutter. He turns around and glares at me, his eyes full of anger.Shit.“I've had a crappy day, give me a break,” I defend, lowering my head, rubbing my forehead with my hand.
“I can see that,” he remarks, the anger leaving his eyes as he turns back around, heading to the refrigerator again. Looks like he is capable of having an emotion rather than anger all the time. Returning to the table, he hands me a soda and opens a beer for himself.Asshole.“Why don't you tell me about it,” he urges. I’d rather not, but I know if I don’t, he is just going to keep pressing.
“Something just got out of hand, things were said, feelings were hurt, I was slapped,” I ramble, trailing off during the last part. “But a deal was reached and it’s all good now,” I finish in a normal tone and a shrug.
“Well, if it’s all been worked out, then there is no reason you can't tell me about it,” he says nonchalantly, taking a bite of his grilled cheese.
“Linc, that's not a good idea, the less you know about my business, the better. In fact, I don't want anyone I deal with to even know I know you.” Linc puts his sandwich down on his plate and looks at me with quirked eyebrows. I roll my eyes and explain. “Cool your ego, hot biker guy, it’s just...sometimes, like today, things can get crazy and if shit blows up in my face, I don't want some asshole taking their revenge out on me by messing with you and the club. That's why I work alone.”
Linc nods, his face void of emotion as he points to the sandwich in front of me, and says, “Eat your sandwich, Kitten.”
