Page 3 of The Complete Truth Duet
“Cora!”
“Not now,” I clipped.
She leaned over the metal railing as I jogged down. “Water’s pouring from the ceiling in my room.”
I winced. That building was falling apart as it was; we didn’t need a flood to speed the process.
“Call Hugo!” I replied, never slowing.
“He’s busy fixing Kerri’s air conditioner.”
“Forget her air conditioner. Unless Hugo is holding up this building with his bare hands, flooding takes precedence over everything else.”
“Right,” she scoffed and then disappeared.
In my haste when I reached the ground floor, I took the corner too tight and the railing bit into my side. Even with my new tan thanks to a spring heat wave, it’d leave one hell of a mark. But pain was nothing new for me. Unfortunately, neither were bruises.
“Cora!” Brittany called as I stormed past her open apartment door.
“Not now!” I replied.
She jogged to keep up with me. “Ava’s not home yet.”
My eyes were anchored to the apartment at the end of the hall as I said, “That rich Hispanic guy took her on an overnight.”
“What!” she shrieked. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Uh, because aforementioned rich Hispanic guy took you on an overnight a few weeks ago and didn’t ask for you again when he emailed Marcos last night.”
“That fucking bitch!”
I glanced over my shoulder and found her stock-still in the middle of the breezeway, her lips pursed tight.
Outstanding.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said, slamming my fists on the door to apartment 108. The smell of weed wafting from the crack at the bottom gave me a twinge of hope. “Chrissy, open up.” I fumbled with my ring of keys, searching for the right one.
Angela strutted out of her apartment next door and leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. She was still fully dressed in a barely there skirt and a crop top from a night of work.
“Everything okay, Cora?” she asked.
I pounded on Chrissy’s door again but aimed my question at Angela. “You seen Savannah?”
“No, but I just got home a few minutes ago.” Her plump, red lips split into a glowing smile. “I was crazy busy last night.”
She was seeking approval. Something I usually gave her freely no matter how nauseated it made me. I just didn’t have it in me to give it to her while I was in the middle of a nervous breakdown.
After finally locating the right key, I unlocked the door and charged inside. Well, almost charged inside. The door caught on the chain lock, causing me to face-plant into the wood.
“Son of a…” I exclaimed, lifting my hand to my face. Blood was dripping from my nose. Without thinking, I wiped it on the sleeve…of my brand-new robe.
Fan-fucking-tastic!
Bleeding and now pissed off more than ever, I yelled through the crack, “Chrissy! Open this goddamn door!”
Her splotchy face filled the narrow space. “For fuck’s sake, can’t a girl get some peace and… Oh, hey, Cora,” she purred condescendingly, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth as she smiled.
My hands fisted at my sides, and the desire to plant one of them in her mouth damn near overtook me. “Is Savannah with you?”
She lifted a joint to her lips, took a drag, and then replied on a puff of smoke, “What happened to your nose?”
“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Chris. Is she with you?”
Her husky smoker’s voice became saccharine. “Well, you did tell me not to let her hang out here anymore.”
This bitch.
“Not an answer,” I seethed.
Calm was my specialty. When you’re something of a housemother to over thirty working girls, the number varying by the day, you learn to pick your battles. Missing money? You wade in. Missing lipstick? You steer clear. Catfight over a john? You let them hash it out. Catfight over a john where one woman pulls a butcher knife and chases the other woman around the building? You learn to trip a bitch with a water hose.
I was accustomed to catty. Especially from Chrissy. But right then, a volcano of violence was dangerously close to erupting inside me. I did not have time for her little games. But if she wanted to play…I was damn sure going to win.
“You have two seconds to tell me if she’s in there before I call Dante.”
It wasn’t a threat. It was a death sentence. And not one I would issue lightly. But there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Savannah.
She blinked, but her smile vanished. “She came to me in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”
My breath tore from my throat in a combination of relief and rage.
“Let me in,” I demanded.
“Cora, seriously. I didn’t—”
I silenced her with a glare. “Do not make me tell you again.”
The door closed, and I heard the slide of the chain before it swung open.
Purposely, I clipped her with my shoulder as I shoved inside. God, that place was a hellhole. None of the apartments in that three-story, fifteen-unit building were anything that could be considered nice, but most of the girls took pride in the little they had and transformed their spaces into something habitable. Not Chrissy though. I couldn’t be sure if she’d ever mopped the floors. Forget about the kitchen or, God forbid, the bathroom.
