Until We Met Again ( Rowan and Johnson )
Chapter 51

Chapter 51 

To be prepared for any eventuality, Rowan insisted that Karla stay at home for the next few days and not set foot 

outside. 

And absolutely no opening the door if anyone knocked. 

Rowan planned to observe for a few days to confirm whether there was any news from Landon’s side, and during this period, he noticed that Lisa did not come knocking on the door again. It was as if her previous appearance had been nothing but a fluke. 

Still, Rowan didn’t let his guard down. He still advised Karla to stay indoors as much as possible, which once again drove Karla up the wall. Little did she expect to be back living a life of ducking and hiding. 

Confined to her home and on the brink of madness, Karla bemoaned her profound boredom. She felt like a warrior without a dragon to vanquish. Here she was, a talent going to waste, her days ticking by unfulfilled. Oh, the agony! 

“Ugh, I’m dying of boredom here. Isn’t there anything fun around to entertain me?“, Karla sprawled out on the floor in a spread–eagle position, staring up at the ceiling and whining in sheer ennui. 

Just then, she heard a noise outside the door. Her ears perked up. There were footsteps, and not just one 

person’s. 

The voices outside were hushed and sneaky, clearly up to no good. And sure enough, after a moment, Karla heard the tell–tale sounds of someone picking the lock. Her eyes lit up, and a sly grin crept across her face. Entertainment had come knocking at her door. 

Outside were three guys, one of them quite portly, sporting a baseball cap and draped in an oversized jersey, sweating bullets as he worked on the door lock. The other two, both on the skinny side and looking to be in their teens, appeared to be standing watch. 

All three bore signs of recent scuffles – one with gauze taped to his face, another with bandages wrapped around his arm. It wasn’t hard to figure out they’d either been in a fight or had been roughed up. 

“Are you done yet?” one of the lean teens asked impatiently. 

The chubby one, frustrated and red–faced from the effort, snapped, “Back off, will ya? Don’t rush me!“. 

“What’s there to be scared of? There’s nobody home!” retorted the other lanky fellow with a look of disdain. 

The portly one shot them a glare and then shrugged in defiance, “Fine, if you think you’re so tough, you try this.” 

The other two, clearly not experts in the fine art of lock–picking, touched their noses and fell silent. 

The portly kid resumed his work on the lock, instructing his pals, “Once we’re in, smash whatever you want, but keep it down. We don’t want the landlord downstairs to catch on.” 

They nodded in understanding, and then there was the sound of the lock giving way. 

The three guys exchanged a look of triumph, and the portly kid puffed up with pride, pushing open the door with a swagger. But the moment he stepped inside, he stumbled back in shock – there was someone in the house! 

“Man, you guys are slow at this. Need me to show you how it’s done? I could have that lock popped in seconds.” 

Karla had already set up a chair by the entrance, where she sat lounging with her legs crossed, swinging them leisurely. Her arms were folded, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips, and a baseball bat lay at her feet. She picked it up, weighing it in her hands, getting a feel for it. 

The three intruders were stunned, and recognition turned their shock into terror. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t some familiar faces.” Karla had an excellent memory, especially for faces. She recognized them in an instant as the same bunch she’d encountered in an alley when she first arrived. 

1/2 

18:29 

Chapter 51 

Having previously witnessed Karla’s prowess, the three guys turned to flee. 

“Hold it right there. Did I say you could leave?” At Karla’s command, the three outside froze in their tracks. 

Karla stood up, walked over to them, and towered above the cowering boys. “Now, who sent you?” she demanded. 

They shoved each other around, none wanting to spill the beans. Karla, growing impatient, glared at the chubby one. “You! Spill it.” 

With no escape, he confessed, “Joseph.” 

This Joseph was their ringleader, the blonde dude who’d whistled at Karla that day. 

“And why would he send you to do this?” Karla pressed on. 

The portly kid explained, “It’s because of Thomas. Thomas and Joseph are tight.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Rowan ticked off this Thomas guy?” Karla mused aloud. 

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, exactly.” 

“And you came here to trash the place, right? Well, come on in then,” Karla said generously, stepping aside to make way. 

They looked at each other, unsure of what to make of Karla’s play. 

“If you don’t do it, how will you explain it to Joseph? You don’t want to get chewed out by him, do you?” Karla kindly reminded them. 

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