NOT LIKE BEFORE by Ava Strong

Author:Ava Strong [Strong, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sunny O'Leary stared at the door to his smallest rental property. It was broken. Someone had taken the lock.

He scowled, stomping forward up the alley, grumbling to himself. Damn metal thieves. He couldn't imagine a door handle and locking mechanism would fetch much more than a few bucks. He certainly hadn't paid more than that.

He grimaced, shaking his head, and spitting off to the side. The spittle darkened a gray wall behind some dumpsters.

He turned to face the door of his smallest rental unit. Not that impressive. Certainly not beautiful. But it made him a pretty penny. Which was kind of the point.

He pushed through the door, frowning at where splintered wood scattered across the doorstep. What else had they taken? He didn't usually leave much behind. The rentals came furnished but the furniture was all secondhand anyway.

"Mr. Johnson?" he called out into the house. "Hello?" He projected a cheerful voice. Certainly not how he was feeling but in the real estate game, one had to know how to turn it on when required.

He glanced around the entry room.

He couldn't see anyone. He'd arranged to meet with a prospective tenant a few days ago. The tenant was supposed to be there ten minutes before. What if he was the asshole that had stolen the lock?

Sunny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Mr. Johnson!" he called, louder now.

No response.

He grumbled to himself, looking around the space.

There was some mold damage by the door, over the fireplace. The fireplace was a complete gimmick as there was no chimney. Once, a tenant had actually tried to burn something in the hearth but had smoked out the whole house.

Another time, there had been a carbon monoxide issue. The alarms had been fine. It wasn't his fault the tenant hadn't read the small print—batteries not included.

Batteries were expensive. It was the tenant's shitty fault he had suffocated. Sunny shook his head, scanning the place, his eyes traveling over the furniture.

This was one of the reasons it was so hard to rent this place. It kept showing up when people searched the address.

He'd been hopeful this would be a positive business relationship with a new tenant. On the phone the guy had seemed so eager. But where was he?

Probably off somewhere with a doorknob.

He sighed, but then paused, trying not to breathe too deeply. The scent of mold was really quite strong. A little bit of paint, though, would cover the water damage. A little more paint, and the smell of rot would disappear for a bit. At least long enough to sign a lease. He wasn't made of money. It wasn't his job to build a custom, luxury house for cheap-ass renters.

He just provided the space.

Of course, he wouldn't be caught dead replacing an entire piping system. Perish the thought.

He paused as he looked around the space. Then heard a faint noise coming from the other room. A quiet, scratching sound. Shivers went up his spine.

He hated rats. Had even checked into an extermination service. Way too much money.

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