Page 149 of The Villain

I close and lock the apartment door even though it’s a waste of time. Half the people in this building can get into it and the flimsy door is practically cardboard. I glance at the door of the blue haired woman in concern as I pass. I haven’t seen her since she was standing in a thong and cut off shirt at the entrance to the complex.

She seemed capable enough. And frightening. I shouldn’t be worried for her. I should save that up for my miserable life.

Since she’s left, the floor I live on has gotten rowdy. Younger kids lingering and watching people pass like they’re casing the apartments. Older people screaming in the middle of the hallway. Couples fighting so loudly I have to cover my face with a pillow to sleep. It’s enough to make me rethink living here, among other reasons.

One scary woman kept order here without doing a thing. I wonder what it’s like to have that much power with your mere presence.

The stairs, aka my relentless enemy, have me huffing for air when I reach the bottom. Three flights will not defeat me.

The mailbox might.

I stare at it, wondering what kind of messed up letter or worse, I’m going to find. I stand there so long I’m zoned out when a man walks in. I glance at him casually, anything to distract myself, and try not to wince.

He lifts his sunglasses to rest on top of his head and stares back at me with cold gray eyes. It’s the guy who kidnapped the blue haired woman and basically never brought her back. Something about him gives me the heebie-jeebies. The same with the woman. They both have a personal space bubble that seems poisonous.

“Amanda.”

The sleazy sound of the landlord’s voice comes from behind me. I can’t hide my cringe. The guy’s eyes narrow on it and flick behind me.

“Rent’s due.”

I turn with a glare, taking in the balding man. He’s shorter than I am and a total sleazeball made up of rolls and sweat.

“No, it isn’t. It was due last week. I paid on time.”

“I never got anything,” his eyes rove over my body leaving the feeling of slime all over me. I don’t have time to shower again, I have to get to work.

“Uh, the check cleared the bank, scumbag. Try again.” I straighten my shoulders and cross my arms with my chin held high. I doubt it’s intimidating but it feels good.

“Guess someone stole it from the inbox and cashed it out. I need your rent. Today.”

“You’re not getting shit until I investigate what the problem is,” I inform him imperiously. Inside my stomach shrivels up. I don’t have the money for that. I got groceries and the stupid suit I’m wearing for my new job.

“Are you Allen Jones?” The guy behind me says in a tone that gives me chills. I have death breathing down my neck because I turned my back on him. The landlord doesn’t get the same vibe I do because he continues acting like an ass.

“And you are?”

“I’d like to discuss something with you,” death continues in a bland tone. It doesn’t ease my anxiety at all and I’m too scared to turn around. “About Ms. Duran Queen.”

“Oh?” He perks up with interest and licks his lips.

I’m caught between icy death and sleazy perv with no escape. The entranceway isn’t that big.

“She left a deposit with her keys. I’m here to get it back.”

“What deposit?” His brows furrow in confusion.

“We’ll discuss it in your office.”

The deepened tone of dark pleasure makes my eyes widen. I should tell the landlord he’s an idiot if he goes anywhere with this guy alone. My tongue stays still as I remember Mrs. Halley crying to her husband about the way he touched her in the elevator before it broke down and the stairs became the only option to get downstairs.

Maybe a little beating wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Sure,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal. Then he turns to me with a leer and says, “Today Amanda. One way or another.”

The suggestive tone makes my lips thin in rage.

“You’re a disgusting perv. If you put your hands on me, I’m going to cut your dick off and put it in my blender.”