“Um, no not usually,” Mia stammered.
“You going to bitch about what the girls wearing or you going to ask to be invited inside?” I chimed in, hoping to get a better glimpse of this Mia character.
“I’m sorry. He’s right, come inside. Does Lauren know you’re visiting?” She asked politely as she opened the door wider, allowing us room to step inside.
“No. It’s an impromptu visit that she can thank her brother for,” Maria said, looking around the apartment. “Where is she anyway? It’s nearly three in the morning.”
“Um…working.” She smiled nervously. “Can you give me a minute to throw some clothes on?”
Maria shooed her away with her hands before walking further into the apartment, picking up empty cups and paper dishes along the way.
“I’ll just be a minute. Make yourself at home,” Mia said, eyes bouncing nervously between me and Maria, they locked with mine and she quickly turned on her heel, and down the tiny hallway. Yeah, something was up and it wasn’t my dick. Bummer.
“You can leave now,’ Maria said, glancing over her shoulder. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you Rabit…”
“Riggs,” I hissed.
“What kind of name is that anyway?” She asked brushing me off, bending down to pick up a pair of shoes that one of the girls had haphazardly left on the couch.
“It’s my road name,” I explained angrily.
“Well if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. What is your god given name?”
I shook my head in disgust and walked away from her, searching for the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked behind me.
That was it. A man can only take so much and I had my fill of Maria Bianci.
“I’m going to go take a piss, would you like to come with me? Maybe hold my dick for me?”
I grinned in satisfaction when I heard her gasp behind me. One for Riggs, Twelve Thousand for Maria.
I walked down the narrow hallway, finding the bathroom and heard Mia talking in hushed tones in the room across from it.
“Lauren, you really need to answer your phone goddamn it! Your mother is here with some scary looking guy. Call me back.”
I stopped outside Mia’s bedroom door, peered through the crack and saw she was fully dressed. Double Bummer. She was sitting on the foot of her bed, her fingers moving rapidly on her phone. I toed the door open with the tip of my boot and she quickly dropped her phone onto the bed.
“Problem?” I asked, checking over my shoulder to see if Carmela Soprano was anywhere near, then stepped further into Mia’s room. She lifted her eyes to mine, sinking her perfectly straight teeth into her lower lip.
“Why would you ask that?”
I narrowed my eyes trying to read her. I didn’t know what the hell was going on here but I was sure that my night wasn’t over. I was starting to hate everyone with the last name Bianci.
“Where’s Lauren?” I asked, crossing my arms against my chest. Her eyes zeroed in on my cut and I watched her throat as she swallowed.
“Who are you?” She questioned.
“I’m a friend of her brother’s,” I lied because Anthony was more of an enemy of mine at this point. She looked nervous and I didn’t know if it was because I was a strange guy standing in her bedroom or because she was hiding something. I lifted the skull cap from my head and ran my fingers roughly through my hair.
“Look, if Lauren’s in some kind of trouble…” I started but my words trailed off the moment she stood from her bed and peeked her head out the door. She closed it softly and turned around.
“Lauren’s been lying to her mother,” she started.
I fitted the hat back onto my head and sighed. More Bianci bullshit was headed my way.
“Maria thinks Lauren is an intern at a hospital, a requirement for her nursing degree, but, the thing is she kind of quit the program,” she continued, suffering from a severe case of diarrhea of the mouth.
I lifted an eyebrow. Mama Leone was going to blow a gasket.
“So if she’s not playing Florence Nightingale then where is she?” I ground out.
Silence.
Fuck my life. I stalked towards Mia, watching as she raised an eyebrow and walked backwards until her back slammed against the door.
“Ouch,” she muttered.
I narrowed my eyes, bracing one hand flat against the door over her head and leaned close to her.
“Where is she?” I repeated.
“She’s working at a bar in town, near campus,” she said, stepping around me and walked towards her desk, ripping a piece of paper off a pad and scribbling something on it. “Here’s the address. She’s not answering the phone so—you need to go get her before Maria starts asking questions.”
“You’re kidding right?” Does the leather and tattoos not scare anyone anymore these days? These people are walking all over me like I’m some kind of jerkoff.