Page 25 of Heart of Sin
The kind of pounding we in the lifestyle do when we’re about to make you ‘go sleep with the fishes’, as the old generation used to say.
It’s not the kind of pounding you want on your door.
I’m in beast mode immediately, standing up with a deadly glare. “Who the fuck is banging on your door like that?”
Tasha’s unfazed, like this sort of shit is normal. She screws the top back on the nail polish. “Probably Fredo.”
“Who?!”
“Fredo. My landlord.”
His fists pound some more. “Open up, broke bitch! I’m sick and tired of having to chase you down for the rent! I’m coming in!”
“I don’t like how this guy talks to you. Landlord or no landlord.”
“Stay out of it! He’s like that with everybody.”
I leave her bedroom and make it to the front door to the sound of keys jiggling on the other side. Tasha’s a couple steps behind, trying to stop me, but it’s too late.
Intimidation is in full effect.
I wrench the door open before the bastard can get his master key in the lock. He pales at the sight of me, taking me in up and down, including the piece I have holstered at my side. Then he glances at the apartment number as if checking he has the right place.
The wrong fucking planet more like it.
“Uh… T-Tasha… is she here?”
“Tasha’s not answering the door. What the fuck do you want?”
He begins fussing with the ring of keys. “I was… she’s late… the rent…”
“That how you always go around collecting rent from your tenants? Banging on their door in the morning, calling them inappropriate names?”
“Yes. No. I… I thought…”
“You didn’t expect somebody like me to answer and hold you accountable for being acazzo.” I step toward him, and he leans away. It doesn’t matter, though. I invade his space anyway, smacking him lightly on his cheek, like a bitch. “Don’t you ever fucking bang on her door like that again, or you’re going to have to deal with me banging onyourdoor. Are we clear? If you need to speak with her, you do it respectfully. At a respectable hour. In a respectful fucking tone. You call her Ms. Henson. You say please and thank you.”
“Yes. Okay.”
“Show me. Say please.”
“P-please.”
“Say thank you.”
“Tha-thank you.”
“Good. Now scram before I make you piss yourself for fun.”
Fredo scrambles making his escape, practically tripping over his large feet. At the end of the hall, he even drops his ring of keys. I slam the door shut and find Tasha behind me with her arms crossed.
Crap.
I expected her to be pissed. She told me not to defend her. Her alpha femaleness doesn’t like it.
But I’m not apologizing for it. I’ve never been the kind to let the women in my life get mistreated. Not Ma or Nikki. Not even Ms. Falynn, who became like a little sister.
“Tasha, he was a dick,” I say plainly. “He needed to be checked.”