Kai
“THE LITTLE CRIMINAL is stalking me,” I announce as I walk into the living room.
Leo is still half asleep on the couch, where he spent his night watching the feed from the cameras he was mad I had installed at Rachel’s house.
This man is a complete hypocrite. I set my mug of coffee on the living room table and kneel next to the couch.
I bring his mug under his nose, and a sleeping Leo suddenly comes to life.
“What?” He blinks rapidly, trying to get himself awake enough to process information.
“Did she actually like a photo from ten years ago?” Finally, Leo’s brain is awake enough to process information.
“Yes, she did.” Today is a good day. It’s Sunday, my girl is stalking me, and I don’t have to go to work. Such a good day indeed.
“Jesus Christ. You found a woman as crazy as you.” Leo drinks his coffee while he checks his phone, probably for a message from Noah.
“Technically, she found me,” I correct him, because this is a part of the story I will happily tell our future kids. We are going to have such beautiful kids. She is a fucking beauty, and I’m not too bad myself. Our future kids have won the gene lottery already, and they don’t even exist.
“What picture did she like?” I show him my phone, with the picture still on the screen. “Isn’t that the ex who has a restraining order against you for stalking her?”
“That’s indeed the ex with the restraining order.
” I turn my screen off and set my phone and mug on the table.
I take the remote control and turn up the volume.
Rachel and Noah are chatting away in her kitchen while drinking coffee amid a stack of books and plates full of pancakes.
She looks happy. Smiling big and laughing with her friend, they are switching between talking about books, work, and—well—me.
She is talking about me, and her face is lit up. She is happy.
“That’s ironic.” It is, but I don’t care.
My girl is happy. The day is great, and who the fuck is that?
Someone knocks on her back door, and Rachel stands and goes to open it.
The moment she opens the door, my day is ruined.
Alex, the neighbor who played handyman yesterday and fixed her door, is standing there with flowers.
He smiles at her as if he has a right to smile at my woman.
My blood boils as I watch her smile back and politely take the flowers from his hand.
She invites him inside, and Noah, the fucking traitor, offers him coffee.
I listen to the conversation as Alex asks her about her boyfriend, and Rachel tells him I am not really her boyfriend.
More of a guy she is kind of seeing. No strings attached.
I will have to fix this. She can’t be going around telling people there are no strings attached between us.
There are very much strings attached. She will be the mother of my children.
“I think you might have competition,” Leo comments from his seat, and I shoot him a glare. “I think it’s time for my morning run.” He quickly changes the subject and leaves his seat.
“Good idea,” I murmur without bothering to look at him. I turn up the volume again, and now I can hear Alex clearly asking her on a date, and my criminal is accepting his proposal with a smile. I take my phone in my hand and type a message.
Me: You are not going out with him.
Rachel looks at her phone, then at every corner of her kitchen—the cabinets, the walls. Everywhere, until she spots the camera. She types a response.
Little criminal: You did not install fucking cameras in my house.
I type a response back.
Me: We both know that’s a lie. You are not going on a date with Alex.
Rachel winks at the camera and then, with a smile, tells Alex to pick her up at seven.
Once the door is closed behind him, she opens a cabinet and takes out a black can of spray paint.
She pulls up a chair, and I can hear Noah asking her what the hell she is doing as she climbs on the chair and stretches until she reaches the camera and spray-paints the damn lens.
The feed from the kitchen goes black. I type another message.
Me: You are going to regret this, criminal. Be a good girl and stop what you are doing right now.
Rachel types a response as she walks to the hallway where her front door is.
She looks around until she spots the camera.
She goes back to the kitchen, out her back door, and returns with a small three-step ladder.
The ceiling in her house is low, and that’s the only height she needs to reach the camera.
She sets the ladder under the camera in her hallway and shows me the middle finger again before she spray-paints camera number two.
Fuck. I am two cameras down. I type another message.
Me: Don’t be a brat, little criminal. Stop it.
She takes her ladder to the living room, looks around, spots cameras three, four, and five, and repeats the process.
Step on the ladder, show me the middle finger, spray-paint the lens.
I watch her as she proceeds to repeat the process in every room until I have no cameras left.
My phone vibrates and I check the message she just sent.
Little criminal: Have a good Sunday, Kai. I have a date to get ready for.
No, you fucking don’t. Not if it’s up to me. She is not going out with this man. Leo’s voice interrupts my thoughts from the door as he gets ready to leave the house for his run.
“What the hell happened to the cameras?” he questions.
“The little criminal happened.” I toss my phone to the ground; the screen cracks but luckily the phone still works from what I can tell.
My anger doesn’t ease. I am not going to allow my woman to go out with anyone, let alone Alex, the fucking dude who knew she had a boyfriend and still tried to shoot his shot.
He even met me. Nope, this is not going to happen.