by C. L. Stacey
We yelled. A lot.
She said things.
I said things back.
She tried to throw me out.
And I threw her into the shower—where we made up.
Then there was that time I hired someone to move half her stuff into my penthouse without telling her. Asking her first never crossed my mind. I’d already decided. She spent every night with me anyway. Going back and forth from her condo to my penthouse was getting ridiculous. But that was still my bad. I should have given her a heads up before taking her things, at least.
So we yelled. A lot.
She said things about how it was too early to consider moving in together.
I laughed.
She got angrier.
She tried to throw me out.
And I fucked her in her closet.
Angry sex was new.
Angry sex was fun.
Sometimes, I think that I piss her off on purpose, just so that I can bring that animal side of hers to bed. Or not bed.
The important thing was that every fight we had was later fixed with make-up sex.
The other, or rather most important, thing is that during each and every one of those explosive arguments, she never uttered the words ‘I hate you’ again.
Which is why I could never be fully angry during any of our rage-fueled altercations. She listens to me. I love that.
While most couples dread the thought of conflicting interests and heated arguments existing in their relationships at all, I actually like it, as strange as that may seem. I feel that it strengthens us as a couple.
I’ve been learning more about her through all of them. Like, for instance, knowing exactly where the landmines are buried. Now I know where not to step, and where to tread carefully.
Don’t ask her to stop drinking so much tequila.
Don’t touch her crap without asking.
Don’t talk to Nikki.
My cellphone rings from my desk, and I trace the smile on my lips with my fingers when I see Lexi’s picture fill the screen.
I look up and dismiss Lea. She had been there the entire time I was daydreaming about my delicious girlfriend, and I’d completely missed everything she said to me during our meeting.
We’re going to have to do this all over again when I hang up with Lexi.
After Lea closes the door behind her, I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey, I was just thinking about you. What are you doing?”
My eyes find the clock, and I see that it’s barely three.
“I’m going home early, I don’t feel good.”
“Why?”
“Check your calendar.”
My eyes swing to the computer monitor that sits on the corner of my desktop. July 1.
“Shit,” I mutter, standing to my feet.
With one hand on my phone, I pull my jacket from the back of my chair with the other, and I head for the door.
“I know,” Lexi whines from the other end. “I’m going to let you get back to it, so I can go curl up into a ball on my couch and cry.”
“No, don’t do that. Go and wait for me at my penthouse,” I say.
Lea looks up from her computer when I practically fly out of my office to head straight for the elevators. “Mr. Anderson?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Your meetings—”
“Push them,” I order her.
“Yes, sir.”
The doors are just closing me in when Lexi’s voice fills my ear again. “Your penthouse? Why there?”
“I’ve been preparing for Red Week, and all the stuff is there.”
She gasps. “Oh, no, you did not.”
“Yes, I did. I’ll see you at home.”
“Wait!” she shouts just as I’m pulling the phone away from my ear.
I bring it right back. “What happened?”
“What do you say?” she asks, waiting for me to say it.
“I love you, babe.”
She chuckles. “I love you, too. Drive safely.”
“Will do.”
We hang up just as the doors open back up to the garage floor, and I step off, pulling my keys from my pocket as I walk.
Loud screeching sounds bounce off the walls, prompting me to look up. Jesus. Caleb’s Escalade comes to a halt in front of me, blocking my way to the car.
There is a troubled expression on his face, one hand on the wheel while leaning over the passenger’s side so I won’t have trouble hearing him over all the background noise. “Get in,” he says through the open window.
“Now’s not a good time, Caleb. I’m on my way home to Lexi.”
Caleb’s hand shuffles through some things in the passenger side, and he holds something up to me. My eyes flare at the sight of the person on the photo. “Bradley Davis. He used to be your lawyer, yea?”
It is Brad, only he looks very different in this picture, not anything like the Brad I know. This man looks rough. He looks tired in the eyes, dressed in a regular t-shirt and jeans instead of his usual suit, facial hair grown along the jaw and chin from going days without grooming, but I notice the smile he wears for the person he’s shown talking to.
One very important detail I can’t miss: the person he’s talking to is Lexi.
My feet carry me forward until I’m standing just outside the window. “Where and when was this taken?” I ask, my tone curt.
“This man has been lurking around several different photoshoots that Lexi was assigned to work. I saw him speak with her a few times, friendly exchanges, nothing suspicious. As you can see in this photo, Brad doesn’t look his usual self, so it was hard for me to place him right away. But I couldn’t shake the fact that I knew his face from somewhere, so I asked Lexi about him.”
“He introduced himself to her as Tommy Davis, just another member of the crew. I checked the employee records of each person working the shoot that day. His name was nowhere on it.”
“So I’m pissed as fuck, because one,”—Caleb’s finger shoots up when he starts ticking off reasons—“he’s either stalking my models, or two,”—he shoots up another—“he’s stalking Lexi. Both of which I have a problem with. So, I had my PI do a little digging, and imagine my surprise when I learn that it’s your lawyer.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before asking me another question. “Why is he stalking my sets, Jackson?”
Tommy… as in Thomas. He gave Lexi his wife’s maiden name when introducing himself to her.
All the blood drains from my face, my chest full with fear and paranoia following Caleb’s story. “How long has this been going on?” I ask.
“Two weeks.”
Those two words paralyze me.
Brad’s been watching her for two weeks… Two fucking weeks. Why?
“Lexi… she’s at my…” My imagination runs amuck, taking me to the darkest corners of my mind. I wrap a hand around the door handle and rip it open. “Take me to my penthouse. Now.”
Caleb doesn’t ask questions, he barely even waits for me to close the door behind me before speeding out of the garage.
I pull my phone and dial Lexi.
“Fuck!” I throw out a curse when it takes me straight to voicemail.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on. Why was he fired?” Caleb asks as he speeds through the streets, his bulky SUV shooting through traffic, earning honks from angry drivers all around.
“He was on drugs. I found out about it when he started fucking up and jeopardizing everything at work.” My hand shoots out to hold onto something while Caleb weaves us through the other cars like a maniac. “He was a fucking trainwreck, so I let him go. He threatened me about taking matters, private matters, to Lexi. I threatened him back.”
There’s a lot Caleb wants to say, I hear it in the frustrated growl he gives in response to my answer. But he says nothing, just presses down harder against the gas until the pedal meets the floor.
Daniel hasn’t been shadowing Lexi as much lately… I didn’t think it was necessary after things changed b
etween Lexi and I the night of Harper’s wedding.
Ten minutes later, we’re marching toward the elevators in my building, and I’m relieved to find one of the doors still open.
We rush to catch it, and I utter a curse when I find that it is already half-full.
“No,” Caleb simply states. Then he physically pulls a man out by his arm, and he begins to shout orders to the rest. “Everyone get the fuck off and catch the next one. We don’t have time for this shit.” Each one, appearing more clueless than the last, looks around, unsure of what to do. They all jump at once when Caleb’s clapping hands startle them. “Move your fucking ass, people! The fuck? Off, off, off!” he chants.
Appalled and confused, the other residents begin with their objections, some of them vocalizing their disapproval as they file out, but I make no apologies before incessantly pressing the button to close the doors.
“Thank you, have a nice day!” Caleb doesn’t abandon his manners, his words making it through the cracks just in time.
“Jesus, Caleb,” I utter under my breath, then scan my security card for clearance to the penthouse floor.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Jackson.” Caleb paces the floor behind me, while I stand there about to lose my mind. Both of us watch the numbers climb as the elevator lifts us past each floor. “Will he hurt her?” he asks, still pacing.
“I don’t fucking know, Caleb,” I speak each word with an eerie calm. “He better fucking not,” I seethe, watching the numbers climb higher.
Sometime during the five seconds Caleb didn’t speak, I got lost in my head. All of this is my fault. If he ends up hurting her, it’s all on me.
I know Brad. Surely, he wouldn’t physically harm another.
Truth is, I have no idea just what Brad’s capable of these days. She’ll have to stay with me indefinitely. There’s no way I’m taking any chances when it comes to her safety.
“We need to report this to the authorities. Get someone to surveil him so he never gets the chance to!” Caleb tells me what I already know.
Right now, I just need to know that she is up there waiting for me, safe in my home. I won’t be able to do anything else until I see her.
Relief washes over me, and Caleb’s is expressed through one heavy sigh behind me when the bells chime from above us and the doors slide open to my foyer.
“Lexi!” I call out for her.
“Over here, babe,” she calls back.
Caleb and I run in the direction of her voice, each shoving the other to get to her first. She is lying upside down on my chaise with her feet dangling off the back.
“Oh, thank fuck!” Caleb shouts, tossing his hands in the air.
I unbutton the front of my jacket and kneel by her head, stealing a kiss I very much need. She flashes me an upside down smile, then diverts her attention back to Caleb. “Thank who for what now?”
“We tried calling you,” he says.
“My phone ran out of juice. What’s going on?” Lexi thrusts her hips into the air and holds it there.
Caleb perks up a brow and frowns. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Sending the blood back to my uterus,” Lexi tells him.
“Am I supposed to know what the fuck that means?” he asks, his face screwing with disgust. “No, wait. I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me.”
“It means that I don’t want to be bleeding from my vagina right now, Caleb.” She defies his wishes and tells him anyway.
Caleb gags and dry heaves, causing Lexi to giggle. “Jesus—I told you not to tell me.” He swats the bottom of her foot, and she retaliates by trying to kick him.
They have a very abnormal relationship, Caleb and Lexi. Their unnatural bond has always made me more than just a little jealous. But right now, all I feel is relieved that she’s perfectly fine, doing butt-lifts on my couch in her crazy attempt to defy nature.
“I need a drink,” Caleb says, reminding me of his irritating presence. “Jackson, be a dear and fetch me a water.”
“Get it yourself, bitch.”
“I don’t know where the kitchen is, rude.”
I reach up and point in the general direction, and Caleb disappears.
My gaze drops back down to Lexi’s when she snakes a hand up the back of my head, pulling me to her. “Hey.” I smile just before our lips touch.
“Something’s bothering you,” she knowingly states, her eyes filling with concern. “Bad day at work?” She rolls over to sit upright, her hand reaching out to pinch my chin.
I close my eyes on a heavy sigh, wrapping my hand over her wrist. “How’d you know?”
“Your smile.” Her thumb traces a line over my mouth. “It’s more strained, forced. Not the smile you usually give me.”
“We need to talk…” I begin.
“Yes, let’s,” a voice interrupts.
An exasperated sigh passes through my lips when Caleb’s decided to rejoin us already. “Caleb, you have a home. Go to it.”
“No, I’d like to be present for this,” he objects. I glare at him. He shrugs. “I work with her, man. Like it or not, I’m part of the security detail for your girlfriend here.” He motions to Lexi with his chilled bottle of water.
“Security detail?” She frowns. “What’s he talking about, Jackson?”
That is not how I wanted to approach the subject with her. What the hell is wrong with him? I turn to glare at Caleb again.
Caleb seems unfazed by my disapproval as he tips his head back on a nod. “Sup?”
Lexi’s phone rings from next to her, then she looks back up at me. “Oh, I forgot to ask you, Harper and Nick are finally back from their honeymoon. They want to have dinner, are you down?”
“I’m down,” Caleb invites himself. “Where are we goin’?” he asks.
Lexi laughs. “Koi, for some sushi. Is that okay with you?”
The sarcasm in her tone is evident, but Caleb actually provides her with a serious answer. “Let’s do it. I can definitely go for some Chirashi right now.”
Knowing full well how bothered I am right now, Lexi turns to stare down at me with a guilty smile. Then she scrunches her face up in the cute way I love, and she pinches my nose between the knuckles of her middle and forefinger.
“Fine,” I surrender on a sigh. “Dinner. And then we talk.”
Lexi takes two fingers to her forehead and mockingly salutes with a wink. “I’m going to get ready,” she says, pressing a kiss to my lips before standing to her feet. “What do you want me to wear, babe?”
“Red,” Caleb answers in my place.
“Fuck off, Caleb,” I warn him. Then I tell her what I’d like to see her in.
And no, it isn’t red.
We are singing “Dangerous Woman” at the top of our lungs, laughing in between verses and stoplights. Well, Caleb and I are. Jackson’s pretending to act like he isn’t at all amused by our saké induced behavior, but I can see him masking a smile every time he stares out the window to try and hide it.
“Lexi, tell me something,” Caleb calls to me from the front.
“Oh, God, what?” I sigh, expecting an inappropriate joke of some kind.
“This Ariana Grande girl is legal, I checked. I think she’s around the same age as you or something…”
“Okay.”
“But she looks like she’s twelve.”
A laugh bursts from my mouth. “Yea, so?”
“So is it sick to think she’s hot? Because goddamn…” He shakes his head, pulling the car up to Jackson’s building. “I wonder if—”
“Yes, Caleb, it’s sick,” I cut him off before he can finish that nasty thought.
He laughs, throwing the car into park. “But she’s legal.”
Jackson reaches up to smack Caleb against the back of the head before hopping out of the vehicle. I scoot myself up to the edge of my seat, resting my elbow against Caleb’s headrest. “Only a whore like you would say something like that.” My mouth drops open to mimic his expression.
&nbs
p; Caleb takes a hand to his heart. “That hurt my feelings.”
“I wasn’t aware you had any.”
“There you go again!”
I throw my head back on a laugh and scoot down my seat when Jackson opens my door. “Goodnight, Caleb,” I call over my shoulder, and I let Jackson’s hands do their work to safely pull me from the oversized SUV.
“Goodnight, Lex. Dream of me!” Caleb shouts after me.
Jackson’s hand stops the door halfway, just before it shuts, and he leans back in. “Don’t make me fucking kill you,” he threatens Caleb before slamming it.
“Aw, babe, don’t be so mean to him.” I snuggle into his shoulder when he snakes his arm around my waist. “He’s got no friends, either. He’s a loner. Like us.”
“Can’t say that I’m surprised,” he grumbles, leading us into the building when the doorman holds it open for us.
I giggle. “He’s harmless.”
“I wouldn’t trust him around my fucking mother. The man is incorrigible.”
We get to the elevators, and Jackson reaches down to hit the button. I gasp when I feel something hard poke into the small of my back. Then I feel someone step in very close behind me.
Jackson’s gaze falls to whatever the object prodding my back was, and then his face pales before lifting it back up to look whoever it was in the eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
A man’s voice comes from just above my head, running chills up and down my spine. “Let us up quietly, or I shoot her here where she stands.”
The elevator doors open, and people begin to empty out of it.
“Jackson,” I breathe, my eyes swimming with tears. I turn my head only slightly to look at him, careful not to make any sudden movements. “What’s going on, what’s happening?”
Jackson’s jaw twitches, his eyes exchanging a shocked look for a more menacing one. “Don’t you dare fucking hurt her, Bradley, or so help me God…”
I fixate on the fact that Jackson just called this man by name. He knows the gunman?
“Get in quietly, and I won’t have to,” Bradley tells him.
We step on, trying to act as normal as possible when turning around to face the lobby. Some people make their way over to try and board with us, and I feel Bradley press the gun deeper into my spine.
