He crosses his arms over his chest. “You ain’t got shit.”
“I got footage from the security tapes back at your apartment complex,” I tell him. “I got Lexi’s word that you’ve been harassin’ her for a long damn time and a fleet of character witnesses that can attest to that.” Might be a bit of a stretch there, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. “You need to stay far away from Lexi and San Antonio in general.”
“I haven’t been there. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His expression is as calm as he can make it, but he’s twitchy. He’s lying.
I nod slowly and hold my hand out, and my lawyer drops another file of paperwork into my hand. Most of this is for show, though we do have some footage that could be of him. I’m more than willin’ to doctor shit to scare the piss out of him if that’s what it takes. “You’ve got a Trackerman on your truck, right? Big, expensive truck? You’d need a tracking device to ensure that it don’t get stolen.” I smile blandly at him. “Seems I just bought myself a company called Trackerman and I can pull all the records of where your vehicle’s been for the last while. You still willin’ to say you weren’t in San Antonio?”
Keith is silent.
Yeah, that’s what I thought. I lean in closer. “You can’t play this game with me, friend. I’m gonna win every fuckin’ time.”
“You ain’t got shit again,” he says in a low voice, tryin’ to be menacing in front of his buddies.
“I got plenty,” I tell him louder. “I’d hate to have to point out that when you went away for two years, you weren’t servin’ in the army like you told everyone you were. D’you think they know that you never served? That you were, in fact, in prison in Huntsville for two years for stalkin’ a girl coupla towns over?”
Keith’s jaw clenches, the flesh around his mouth going white. Damn, this is fun. He says nothin’, but I didn’t think he would anyhow.
“But I’m sure you told everyone about that,” I drawl, noticin’ that we’ve got quite an audience here in the firehouse. I think everyone’s turned out and I suspect Keith’s gonna be explainin’ himself for a long damn time. “And guess what neat info I just found out? It seems if you go to jail for a second time for the same crime, your sentence goes from a third-degree felony to a second-degree one. That means at least two years in prison, up to twenty. Isn’t that something? And I’d do my best to see you get the full amount, because that’s the kind of man I am.”
He’s sweatin’ now. His face has an unnatural flush and his hands are clenched at his sides, as if he’d like nothing more than to punch me out, but can’t do it in front of his coworkers. It’s just another reason I wanted to publicly call him out like this.
“So, to recap,” I say, setting the folders down on the counter. “You stay the fuck away from her, and you won’t go to prison. You even get close to her, and I’m going to use everything in my power to make sure that you get the maximum sentence, because it’s real fuckin’ hard to stalk a girl from prison. But you should know that already.” I gesture at the men behind me. “These men are gonna be tailin’ Lexi at all times to ensure that she’s safe from you. So if I were you, I’d give up right fucking now. Understand?”
He glares at me, turns on his heel, and storms out of the room.
Done forgot his keys. That makes this far too easy.
I look over at the elderly firefighter that shook my hand on the way in. “I think he gets the message.”
The man looks at Keith’s retreating back, then at me. “That true? About Keith spending time in prison?”
“Yup. Feel free to look up his records online. I know I did.” I gesture at my forehead in goodbye. “Have a nice day.”
The man nods at me, mystified.
I snag the keys as if they’re mine, pocket ’em, and head out the door, my little posse following behind me. I’m pleased as could be. That went better than I thought. Now if Keith tries anything, he knows he’s playin’ with fire. And everyone in town’s going to be watchin’ his ass. If he thinks he can get away with this shit again, he’s got another thing coming to him.
I plan on making sure he doesn’t.
* * *
* * *
Lexi’s waiting for me in my trailer when I get home. She’s still dressed in my T-shirt and has a snack in her hands. It looks like a cereal bowl full of crushed Little Debbie snack cakes and covered with milk and Froot Loops. Her face brightens when I enter. “You’re just in time to watch Alien Encounters, babe. Come sit with me and we can mock everyone.” She pats the couch and scoots over to give me room.
There’s nothin’ I’d like more. “Sounds good. What’d you do today?”
“This,” she admits. “There was a marathon. And I was hungry. And my files were in the wrong format, so the assistant is redoing them for me. There wasn’t much for me to do.” She shrugs. “It was boring. You could have taken me with you.” She gives me a sad look. “You didn’t even have enough dander on your pillow for a small voodoo doll.”
I chuckle and sit down next to her on the couch, then pull her legs into my lap so I can rub her feet. “I promise to try and shed more for you next time.”
“That’s acceptable,” she tells me and offers her spoon. “Want a bite?”
“That’s all you, sweetheart.” I put a hand on her foot and begin to rub. “How you feelin’?”
“Not bad. A little sore here and there, so I skipped the yoga, even though I probably should have done at least a few pigeon poses to keep my hips open.”
I’m gonna pretend like I know what that means. “Mmm.” I want to tell her about my day, that she has nothing to worry about from that creep any longer, but I don’t know how to push through and bring it up. I decide to bring up something else, instead. Somethin’ I’ve been thinking about a lot for the last while. “You stayin’ tonight?”
She nods, her gaze on the TV as she eats a big mouthful of soggy Ding Dong. “Thought we could have some dirty sex since I missed you all day.” She glances over at me and wiggles her eyebrows. “Though you might wanna get rid of the nerd jacket, nerd.”
I glance down at the suit jacket I’m wearing. It’s definitely not me. “I can get rid of it. You know, you’re welcome to move in if you like. This ain’t a great place, but I like havin’ you here.” I rub her foot absently. “Or we could buy a better place. Maybe not somethin’ as crazy as Boone and Ivy, or Natalie and Clay, but I could buy you a nice house. Someplace with a room for the baby.”
She stares at me for a moment, and then shakes her head. “My place is fine.”
“For now,” I agree. “But what about when Junior gets here?”
“Junior?”
“Or Azrael, whatever you want to call him or her.” I reach over and touch her hair. “But we’ve gotta start thinkin’ about where the baby’s gonna sleep and what’s the best environment for him. Pretty sure it ain’t here.” I gesture at my trailer. “He deserves better than this.”
Lexi considers this quietly and then declines. “I don’t want you to buy a house for me and the baby.”
“Was kinda thinkin’ I’d be there with you,” I drawl.
“Ah.”
I’m not sure what that means, but it gets under my skin. “Is it so wrong that I want us to be together? That I want the baby to have two parents?”
“He will have two parents.”
That ain’t what I mean, and she knows it. But there’s times that Lexi can be really obtuse in a deliberate sort of way. “But lemme guess, your place is fine.”
“My place is fine. It’s a perfectly suitable guesthouse and as big as an apartment. It’s got a bigger kitchen than my last place, and a baby won’t need his own room for a while. I’ll figure it out before then.”
Nothin’ about me in this mix. It just adds to my frustration. “Your place is fine,” I say slowly. “But you don’t wanna go back there. In fact, you’ve been at my place for days. If it’s so fine, how come you don’t wanna go?”
Her face flushes pink and her jaw gets firm, like she wants to scowl at me. “Are you trying to kick me out?”
“The opposite, really. I want you here. I just don’t want you to keep lyin’ to us both about why you’re here. It’s not because you want to be here, is it? It’s because you’re scared to go back to your place.”
She says nothing.
I squeeze her foot. “I just want you to know you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’ve taken care of that guy.”
Her gaze flicks to me, and there’s wariness in her face. “What do you mean?”
“I handled him.” There’s a bit of smug pride in my voice, I admit it.
“You handled who?” Her voice is flat, angry.
“Your stalker. That firefighter guy. I went to Luka and put the fear of God into him. He won’t be botherin’ you anymore.”
Instead of bein’ happy, Lexi flings herself up from the couch. “You what?”
“Went and had a little talk with him, man-to-man.”
“Dick-to-dick, you mean,” she snarls. “You bastard.”
“Lexi,” I say in a quiet voice. “Don’t ever call me that again.” It’s like a punch to the gut, especially to hear it from the woman I love. “Never, ever.”
She seems surprised at my reaction, but shakes her head and continues, hands on her hips. “You had no right to shove your nose into my business and try to ‘take care of things.’ I had Keith handled!”
“Is that what we’re callin’ it? Handled? Was it handled when he punched a hole in your wall? Or handled when he came here to stalk you? He practically ran you out of Luka and you call this handled?” I give a hard laugh, but I ain’t amused. I’m the opposite of amused. “Call me crazy, sweetheart, but I don’t think it’s anything of the sort.”