Chapter Four
ACCESS DENIED
Lennox knew Lane was going to cuss his ass smooth out. He also knew he deserved it. That didn’t stop him from sitting in the passenger seat of her car like he had been invited.
He leaned back against the leather with one ankle crossed over the other.
He had his phone in his hand and his eyes on the steakhouse entrance through the windshield.
He’d bribed and threatened the valet to let him bring Lane’s car around.
Somewhere inside, Devin Halstead was probably trying to recover from having a pack of Depends placed beside his bread plate.
Lennox smiled. He should have felt bad, but he didn’t. Well, not completely. The Depends had been childish. Petty. Unhinged. Possibly actionable if Lane wanted to get creative with local law enforcement.
But the look on that square-ass nigga’s face?
Worth every dollar.
Lennox had lasted exactly twelve minutes after leaving KC and Cadence’s house before deciding he had no intention of letting Lane have a peaceful dinner with a man whose email signature included the phrase ‘Strategic Cultural Alignment’.
Then he stopped at a pharmacy to buy the largest pack of adult diapers he could find and made his way to Valentina’s with the calm focus of a man committing emotional vandalism in designer shoes.
He was proud of the execution. Less proud of how badly he wanted to walk back inside when he saw Devin escort Lane toward the front.
Devin looked irritated.
Good.
Lane looked furious.
Better.
Lennox had seen them hug when Lane arrived.
He had seen the way Lane’s body gave nothing back.
There was no spark, no tiny involuntary pause like the one she gave Lennox when she was pretending not to feel anything.
Devin Halstead had been dead on arrival; Lennox had merely handled the funeral.
Still, watching him dismiss Lane like he had better options made something ugly move through Lennox’s chest.
Still, he continued to watch as Lane and Devin separated beneath the awning. Devin walked toward the valet stand. Lane stood there for a moment with her phone in her hand, without a doubt texting Cadence and Nova.
She finally headed to her car, and Lennox lowered his phone, waiting. Her curls perfect, her makeup flawless, her handbag tucked beneath her arm as her hips moved like she was walking toward a murder she had already planned and not an innocent vehicle.
Lane pressed the unlock button. The car chirped as Lennox shifted in the seat. When the driver’s side door opened, Lane slid inside, pulled it shut, and turned her head. She didn’t jump or scream. She didn’t even blink as she looked at him sitting in her passenger seat.
Lane inhaled once through her nose and said, “I want you to know the only reason I’m not shocked is that disappointment has made me adaptable.”
Lennox’s mouth twitched. “Evening, Sanders.”
“Don’t evening me, you Wi-Fi gremlin!” She yelled.
“There she is.”
“Do not ‘there she is’ me like I’m the unreasonable one. You just ambushed my date with adult diapers and then broke into my car like a raccoon.”
He looked offended. “Broke in is an ugly phrase.”
“It’s accurate, as fuck,” she hissed.
“I prefer gained access.”
“I prefer you gain access to a therapist. You’re a fucking Chucky doll with a laptop,” she insulted him.
“More like three laptops,” she corrected.
They stared at each other before she told him to get out of her car. He refused, and that seemed to annoy her more, but he didn’t care.
“You brought Depends to my dinner table,” she reminded him.
“For awareness.”
“For awareness?” Her voice rose. “Nigga, awareness of what? Your lack of home training?”
Lennox laughed before he could stop himself—wrong move. Lane’s head whipped toward him so fast he almost apologized on instinct, almost.
“Something funny?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
“You’re laughing,” she pointed out.
He pressed his lips together as she pointed at him with one manicured finger. “You’re a menace—a menace with a laptop. A menace with a pharmacy rewards account. A menace with abandonment issues and too much free time.”
“I’m actually very busy, Lane. Getting you back is my top priority.”
“By hacking into my personal life? Cyberstalking women and terrorizing steakhouse patrons?”
“Only one woman,” he corrected, skipping over the comment she’d made about hacking into her life.
“That doesn’t make it better,” Lane said.
“It makes me focused.”
Lane’s eyes widened. “Focused? Lennox, you interrupted my date and told a man I left diapers at your house.”
“You did.”
“I did not.”
“Oh, well. Spiritually, you did.”
She sat back slowly and stared through the windshield like she was asking the man above for patience and bail money. “I’m going to jail tonight.”
“Probably not. Orange is your color, but I prefer it in sequins.”
Her head turned.
Lennox held up a hand. “Compliment. You look beautiful.”
Her anger faltered for half a second, and Lennox saw it because he saw everything when it came to her, including the things he had no right to notice.
The slight shift in her mouth. The way her lashes lowered before she remembered she was mad.
The tiny pull of breath that told him his words had landed beneath her fury as she tried to recover quickly.
Lane dropped her handbag onto the center console and faced him fully as she asked again, “How did you know where I was?”
Lennox knew the smart thing to do was lie or find a way to soften the truth. He could say he had people. He could say he guessed, but Lane deserved the truth even if the truth was about to get him verbally filleted in a parking lot.
“I hacked your email and iCloud,” he finally found the courage to admit.
Lane went still as the air inside the car changed. The pressure dropped as a storm had rolled over the city.
“Repeat that?” She demanded.
“I hacked your email and iCloud.”
“Hmmm,” she hummed.
Lennox frowned. “Why do you sound calm?”
“Because I’m deciding whether I want to kill you with my hands or outsource it to someone with farming equipment.”
“Lane—”
“No, no, no. Let’s sit in this. You hacked my email and my iCloud?”
“Yes.”
“Because you lost your entire mind, right?”
“Because I needed to make sure you were safe,” he lied.
“Safe?” She laughed once, but it was sharp and humorless. “Safe from what, Lennox? Calendar invites? Cloud storage? My Sephora receipts?”
“And threats.”
“You are the threat,” she hurled the insult.
“I’m not.”
“You’re sitting in my car without permission after digitally violating my privacy and publicly humiliating me in a restaurant. If danger had a cologne, it would smell like whatever the hell you have on,” she spat venomously.
His mouth twitched again.
“Don’t you smile,” she snapped. “I will slap the MIT out of you.”
“That degree was expensive.”
“Shut your as up, Junior Healey,” she demanded.
Lennox exhaled slowly. “I know you’re mad.”
“Oh, is that what this is? Thank you, Dr. Obvious. I thought this was a light rash.”
“I had protections on you,” he added.
“Protections?” she repeated, voice going dangerously soft.
“Digital alerts,” he said carefully. “Trigger words. Threatening language and anything that looked like blackmail, stalking, harm, financial coercion, proximity risks. The same kind of system I use for KC and Cadence, Nova too, when needed.”
Lane stared at him. “Did I ask you to do that?”
“No.”
“Did I consent to that?” She probed.
“No.”
“Did I even know you were Batman with Wi-Fi until three hours ago?” She let his nickname slip.
His brows pulled together. “They called me that?”
“Focus, Felonious Monk.”
Lennox rubbed a hand over his jaw. She was right. That was the part bothering him most. He could dress it up as protection, but beneath it had been something else. It had been fear, possession, and jealousy. He could find anything on anyone except his own damn sense.
“I should have told you,” he said.
“You should have asked,” she corrected.
“You’re right, I should have,” he acknowledged.
That made her pause. He didn’t like the surprise on her face. It told him she had expected an argument that justified his poor behavior.
“I was wrong for that,” he said. “I still would’ve put protections in place if I knew there was danger, but I should have told you. I should have asked.”
Lane looked away through the windshield with her jaw tight. The parking lot lights painted soft shadows across her face. Anger still sat there, but beneath it was hurt.
“You don’t get to decide what parts of my life you have access to without my consent,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
“Do you?” She asked.
“Yes.”
The silence was loud until Lane’s phone buzzed inside her handbag. Lennox’s jaw tightened before she even reached for it. He knew who it was and Lane did too.
She pulled the phone out, glanced at the screen, and her entire body changed. Her shoulders stiffened as her thumb hovered. Her face became still in a way he hated. Lane didn’t say anything as she locked the screen without opening the message.
Lennox’s voice dropped. “That’s part of why I did it.”
Her eyes lifted slowly. “Excuse me?”
“Your mother.”
The temperature in the car seemed to go cold as Lane’s fingers tightened around her phone. “Do not.”
“Lane—”
“I said DON’T!”
“She’s escalating; this shouldn’t be taken lightly,” he warned.
“I know what she’s doing.”
“No, you know what she’s sending you. I know where it’s coming from. What accounts she’s using. Who she’s talked to and the first two blogs she tried to contact,” Lennox added.
Lane blinked, her anger shifting into unguarded fear that allowed rage to come back to cover it. “You had no right,” she admonished.
“I know, but I didn’t dig into your past. I only kept track of current threats.”
Her laugh was bitter as she questioned why she should believe him, and he let her know that he was the best at what he does, so if he had dug deeper, her mother might not be living. His words weren’t a threat. They were a confession.