Page 88 of Levee

“You’re not Harvey,” I said, remembering Jade’s description of someone more average-sized.

“I’m the super,” the man said.

“Booth,” I recalled from Jade’s account of events.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing in 7D’s apartment?” I asked.

Booth, as it turned out, wouldn’t be able to win a single hand of poker. His guilt was written all over his face.

“You working with him? Hiding shit from T?” I asked.

“No! No,” he said, more calmly. “Don’t get involved with anyone around here. Not like that. Harvey, he’s my sister’s kid. Just… keeping an eye out. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” I asked. “Then how’d you miss him beating up and trying to strangle my girl?” I asked, watching him lose his color.

“I didn’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t hide him if I knew he was fucking up that bad.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

Booth looked conflicted for a second. “My room. In the lower level,” he said. “Who’s your girl?” he asked, looking at me.

“6D.”

“With all the hair,” he said, making my brows pinch.

“Ah… yeah, I guess.”

“Guess she got you to deal with the drain now then,” he said, reaching into his pocket to produce a key. “To my place,” he said, looking torn, but seeming to know that we’d get to him oneway or another, and not wanting to be collateral damage in the process.

With that, the three of us made our way to the stairs.

“What’s with the drain comment?” I asked aloud.

To that, Seeley smirked. “Clearly never lived with a woman,” Seeley said, shaking his head.

“Got special drain covers,” Cato piped in as we made our way to the lower level.

We knew our way around the place like the backs of our hands.

It was a sprawling, mostly-dark space full of tools and cleaning supplies with the super’s apartment far to one side.

On nights where our homes were miserable in unison, we’d sometimes sneak with some blankets and pillows and have a sleepover down there to get a break from it all.

Sure, it was filthy and musty and there was the telltale scratching and shrieking of rats existing down there with us, but that was still better than our families most of the time.

“Fan out,” Seeley said, nodding us each in different directions.

It was surprisingly noisy for a lower level, even in the middle of the night. Floors of TVs, music, conversation, fighting, footsteps.

After a few dozen feet, I couldn’t hear Seeley or Cato any longer.

Adrenaline surged through my system as I inched closer toward the apartment, not sure if he knew we were coming, if he was going to react like a caged animal.

But just as I was about to reach for the door, it swung open.

And out walked 7D.

---