Love Rents A Room
Chapter 144: Can No Longer Push Her Around

Chapter 144: Can No Longer Push Her Around

Joanne didn’t bother to stand. Fluffy lay curled at her feet, unmoving, as if the dog drew comfort from her stillness.

The thudding on the door continued, each pound a fresh ache in her already throbbing head.

With the chain still latched, she opened it just a crack.

Sam stood on the porch, scowling. "What’s with this?"

Of course. No "How are you?" No glance at the thick bandage wrapping her head. Not even a flicker of concern.

Then again, unless he’d been living under a rock... or more likely, in some cracked-out corner of one, he would’ve known about her attack.

"What do you want, Sam?" Joanne asked flatly, every word edged with the urge to send him away. She didn’t want him here. Not now. Not when Jeffrey could walk in any minute.

The last time, Jeffrey had wanted to kill Sam for less.

This time, he might actually do it.

Sam scoffed. The kind of scoff that said you’ve got to be kidding me. He let out a bitter laugh and staggered in a crooked little circle on her porch like a drunk actor rehearsing rage.

"Did you hit your head so hard your brain spilled out?" he snapped. "Why do you think I’m here?"

Joanne felt a familiar ache—not for herself, but for what should have been. Her cousin—her only blood relative—was standing in front of her, knowing full well she had nearly died... and he couldn’t muster even the barest scrap of decency.

No. He was here for money.

Again.

Even after sending her a legal notice demanding part of her inheritance—after everything.

The audacity burned.

"To steal from me? To hurt me again?" she said coldly. "Tell me why you’re really here, Sam."

She wasn’t going to stand here and feel sorry for him. Not anymore. Not after all she’d done to atone for what happened with his brother. Even if she’d made mistakes, she had paid—and paid dearly.

She would not give him another dollar.

Sam’s face twisted in frustration. He slammed his fist against the door, then grabbed the handle and yanked, trying to break the chain.

Joanne stepped back instinctively.

Jeffrey would’ve heard that.

He’d be here any moment.

"I’m not giving you anything, Sam," she said, voice sharp with finality. "Leave now, or I’ll call the police. And if you keep terrorizing me..."

She turned toward her weapons cupboard.

"I’ll be forced to exercise my Second Amendment rights."

She returned with a gun in her hand—steady, calm, unshaking.

No more niceties.

Sam had used up every last one.

Sam’s eyes widened when she returned, holding the gun with calm precision.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, but the arrogance in his voice was starting to crack.

Fluffy who generally cowered behind Joanne, found its courage out of nowhere. Maybe Fluffy missed her as she was not home for days or maybe that dog could understand Joanne’s pain through her broken voice, he stood beside Joanne and growled.

Joanne was surprised. Even her abused dog found courage against its abuser. She could see Sam’s face getting pale too. Who wouldn’t be afraid in the presence of a well-built Rottweiler who held grudges against them?

"I’m done being nice, Sam." Joanne kept her voice even. Her hands were steady, but her heart thudded against her chest—not out of fear, but out of resolve. "You sent a legal notice to me. Our contact should only be through our lawyers. You show up here again, you’ll see what happens when someone pushes me too far."

She didn’t aim it. She didn’t have to. The sheer fact that she had it was enough.

Fluffy let out a low growl, the fur along its back rising. The dog didn’t move—just stayed at Joanne’s feet, as if ready to lunge the moment she gave the word.

Sam stared at the gun, then at Joanne. There was a flicker of something—disbelief? Discomfort? Maybe the sudden realization that the girl he thought he could push around had become someone else entirely.

Joanne scoffed. Sam was too dumb to realize that he had killed the duck that laid golden eggs. Or was that a goose? Had he kept silent, she would have paid him throughout his life. He had to get greedy and send a legal notice for her inheritance. Now, he had lost everything.

Sam scoffed again, but this time it lacked bite. "You think you can threaten family, Jo?"

"I think you stopped being family the day you tried to sue me for something I inherited," she said coldly. "You think I owe you for what happened with your brother? I’ve already paid. With my money, with my guilt, and with my silence. I’m done, Sam. We’re done."

That’s when she heard the gravel shift outside.

Heavy, purposeful footsteps.

Sam turned just in time to see Jeffrey rounding the corner.

His face was stormy. His eyes, dark and sharp, zeroed in on Sam like a predator sizing up prey.

"Get away from her," Jeffrey said, low and deadly.

"Aww, hell..." Sam muttered under his breath. But his eyes flicked toward the approaching footsteps, and a crooked smirk spread across his face. "Here comes your other dog."

Joanne’s glare could’ve cut steel. What right did someone like Sam have to call her Jeffrey a dog?

"He’s not a dog," she said, her voice low and lethal. "But try touching him... and you’ll be sipping your next drink with your brother in hell."

She raised the gun. Steady. Aimed right at his face.

Sam’s smirk crumbled. He froze.

He remembered—back when Fluffy was just a puppy and he tried to kick the trembling thing, Joanne had stepped between them, shielding the pup with her own body. She’d thrown him out that night, screaming.

But this... this was different.

This time, there was no screaming. Just cold resolve.

She meant every word.

As Jeffrey’s boots hit the porch, Sam didn’t wait. He bolted down the steps, throwing a venomous glare at Jeffrey as he passed him.

Joanne unlocked the chain and stepped outside, watching Sam’s back retreat into the night.

"Go beg Brian Cooper for money, you son of a bitch!" she shouted after him.

Sam stopped, turning halfway. His jaw clenched, lips twitching like he wanted to say something.

But then...