“Sure, if you say so.”
Her excitement faltered. “You don’t look excited.”
“Believe me. I’m so excited I’m crying inside.”
17
Stump yawned as he got off his motorcycle and pulled off his helmet. He was greeted by the sight of Zoey bending down to touch her toes as she stretched, preparing for their early morning jog. Taking his tennis shoes out of his leather saddlebag, he walked to her.
“Good morning!” she greeted him cheerfully.
“Shove it,” he grumbled. “The door unlocked?”
“Help yourself… you always do.”
“Lady, you’re lucky I’m here at all. These early mornings are killing me. Get your ass back inside until I get these shoes on.”
“Ass is considered profanity. Pay up!”
Stump looked at the hand she held out under his nose, about to shove it where it would do the most good, which was the raging hard-on that hadn’t abated since she had taken over his life with those fucking goals she coerced out of him.
The last four weeks had been the most miserable of his life… and the best. She made him get out bed early every day to work out. She charged him five dollars per cuss word—she started out charging one dollar then kept increasing it until he would rather wash his mouth out with soap than pay another five dollars. She made him apply to over one hundred jobs, and even made him go to interviews that he had no intention of taking. He had gone out on twenty dates, none with the same woman. And if he didn’t get laid on the next one, he was going to blow his fucking dick off.
Going into Zoey’s living room, he removed his boots then unashamedly slid his unbuttoned jeans off, revealing the shorts he wore underneath.
“You can take the five out my wallet. It’s in my back pocket,” he replied, sitting down to put his tennis shoes on.
“I’ll wait.”
Stump took his wallet out of his jeans, removing a ten before standing and moving to where she was pretend jogging by the front door.
“Thought I’d save myself the trouble. You’ll have the other five before we get back from the run anyway,” he said, giving her the ten.
“What did I tell you about being positive?” She laid it on a small bench beside the door where she kept her shoes.
“Zoey, I’m going to give you a five-second head start. If I catch you, I’m going to paddle that pert rear end you’re so proud of.”
“You know I can’t outrun you. I have to go slow because of my knee.” She grinned, not taking him seriously.
Each day, she moved a little easier. She still favored the hurt knee, not able to go very fast or far, but she stuck with it despite how tired she became. He never met a more stubborn woman. When she set herself a goal, she stuck with it, no matter the cost. And she expected the same commitment from her clients.
“I know.” He gave her a salacious grin that had her flinging the door open and running outside.
“Lock the door!” she called out through her giggles.
He did, following behind her as she jogged down the sidewalk. As much as he wanted to catch her, he held back, remaining a few paces behind. He could easily overtake her, but he was afraid of what he would do if he caught her.
Since there had been no more flowers or incidents, Ice asked if he thought it was necessary for him to continue watching Zoey. He told Ice that he would give it another couple of weeks, that he felt like someone was watching every move she made, yet he couldn’t explain how he knew. It was just a feeling that he had every intention of heeding. Zoey was too special to let some sicko get his hands on her.
Jackal had shown him and Ice the security footage of the morning she nearly fell down the shaft. The camera hadn’t been pointed toward the elevator, and the police found that it was the mistake of the elevator company doing the service.
“You’re running so slow that a ninety-year-old man with a cane could beat you.”
“Cecil doesn’t count. He’s a freak of nature.” Zoey introduced him to her neighbor when she had badgered him into going with her to the neighborhood gym. The ninety-year-old jogged around the one-mile course while holding his cane in his hand.
It was when Stump had seen him lifting weights that he started getting motivated to reach the goal that Zoey expected him to achieve. He couldn’t let the old man lift more than he could with her watching.
When they returned to her house, he put his jeans and boots back on as she took a shower. Dozing off as he waited, he awoke when she sat down next to him, giving him a smoothie that she insisted he drink every morning.