Chapter Four #2
Lennox turned in the seat, giving her the full weight of his attention.
“I saw the messages. I traced the threat. I found Jeanette because she got sloppy, not because I went looking through your life. I didn’t open anything from when you were seventeen.
I didn’t pull old records. I didn’t search your name in places I know would hurt you.
I could have,” he said, “I wanted to, not because I wanted ammunition. I needed to understand what made you look like that when your phone lit up, but I didn’t.
Your story belongs to you, and I want you to share it with me when you feel safe to do so. ”
Her mouth parted slightly, but she stayed quiet. He knew she’d heard him and he could tell she believed them. For a second, Lennox wanted to reach for her hand, but decided not to, feeling like another choice he hadn’t earned yet. Instead, he kept still.
“I’m handling Jeanette,” he said.
Lane’s eyes sharpened. “What does that mean?”
“It means she can’t leak anything tonight to anyone, including the two blogs she thought would bite. It means I’ve locked down what I can. I’ve documented what she sent and put enough pressure in the right places that she’s going to realize she’s not as invisible as she thinks.”
Lane swallowed, and he knew his heart was probably racing.
He hated Jeanette Sanders with a purity that startled him, and he’d never met her, but the messages alone had made something in him turn black and hot.
He had seen a lot of ugly in his life. Underworld ugly, Hollywood ugliness, and men with money and secrets.
But a mother threatening to sell the survival of the daughter she abandoned? That was a special kind of disgusting.
“And then?” Lane asked.
“Then we confront her.”
Her brows lifted. “We?”
“Yes.”
“When did you become French? What’s this we shit?” She asked, making him laugh.
“You and me.”
Her laugh came back, but weaker this time. “I’m sorry, did I miss the part where I joined your little cyber Avengers team?”
“This isn’t a solo mission. I’m an expert at neutralizing threats, and your mother is a blaring one,” he let her know.
“My life is not a mission.”
“No,” he said, “It’s not, but she’s making moves against you, and now she’s in my wheelhouse.”
Something in Lane’s face flickered. He saw the fight she was putting up against feeling anything about that. She had a support system, and nobody was going to let her move alone to handle her opps or whatever the young folks are saying.
“Regardless of where we stand,” he said, voice lower now, “I’m not letting that woman hurt you again.”
Lane looked away fast to avoid her face showing any emotions but anger, but he caught the way her lips pressed together and the way her eyes threatened to water for half a second before pride came rushing back in with a fire extinguisher and a legal team.
“You’re still a criminal,” she said.
“I’m multifaceted.”
“We both should be wearing orange. Yours from the Spring 26 inmate collection for hacking my life,” she reminded him.
“You really think I look good?”
“Never mind orange; delusion seems to be your color,” she snickered.
“I beg to differ.”
She shook her head, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“On top of everything you’ve done tonight, you’re now trying to organize a confrontation with my abusive mother like this is a group project. My life is not a game, Lennox.”
Lennox smiled. “I know, which is why I’m willing to destroy anyone trying to destroy your peace.”
Lane’s head snapped toward him. “Even yourself? You destroyed my peace tonight.”
“I saved you from that boring ass date with that boring ass nigga,” he stated arrogantly.
She stared at him for three seconds, then looked toward the roof of the car. “Lord, if you can hear me, send him a hobby. Woodworking, birdwatching—hell, I accept a podcast. Anything to get him out of my business.”
“I have hobbies.”
“Stalking is not a hobby, asshole,” she glared at him.
“It is when done with consistency.”
“Lennox.”
He laughed, then sobered because she deserved that too. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“You were getting there.”
“In your dreams,” her eyes rolled.
“Frequently.”
Her eyes narrowed as the tension shifted because it was never that simple with them.
It crackled hotter than ever. Lane in orange sequins made him want to peel her clothing off and drink every drop of her that he could squeeze from between her thighs.
He was close enough to smell her perfume and remember every promise made in St. Barts, sitting between them like a lit match.
Lennox looked at her mouth because he had poor impulse control when it came to Lane Sanders.
He forced his eyes back to hers because he was trying to be slightly less of a menace.
The buzz of her phone snapped them back to reality. Lane didn’t look at it, but Lennox did.
“I blocked the number,” he said. “That’s a new one.”
She glared. “How do you know that?”
He gave her a look.
“Right,” she said. “Cyber demon.”
“She’s scared,” he let her know.
“Jeanette?” Lane asked.
“Yes.”
Lane laughed without humor. “Good.”
“Her trifling ass should be,” he agreed.
“Careful, Lennox. You’re about to say something that makes me like you.”
His gaze held hers. “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” He needed to know.
“Because I have taste.”
He smiled. “You also have me.”
Her mouth dropped open at his audacity. “I know you did not.”
“I did.”
“You are not mine.”
“I can be, say the word,” he spoke seriously.
The air tightened again, and Lane’s eyes dropped to his mouth before she caught herself. There it was; Lennox felt it like a hand around his throat. She could be furious about how things ended between them, but her body remembered him.
“Get out of my car,” she said.
“No.”
“Lennox.”
“One of my men is going to drop your car at my place.”
Her head whipped toward him. “Your place?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell would my car go to your place?” She asked confusingly
“Because you’re riding with me.”
Lane stared before she laughed, a shoulder-shaking, full-belly laugh that ended with a ‘whew,’ though she didn’t seem amused. A dangerous little laugh that made him reconsider, briefly, whether he had chosen life or death by Lane.
“Oh, you have lost your damn mind and found a Groupon for more audacity.”
Lennox let her know he was going to have her car swept for any tracking or monitoring devices and that it would be returned untouched.
“Swept for what? Common sense? Because you won’t find any of yours in here,” she jabbed.
“Lane, you can fight me in this parking lot, or you can fight me in my car with privacy and better music. Either way I’m making sure your car is safe.”
Her eyes narrowed as he waited to see what she was going to do. Lane looked around her, then back at him. She was calculating the risks and rewards of listening to him.
Finally, she snatched up her handbag. “I’m only doing this because I look too good to be arguing with your crazy ass.”
“Glad we agree on that.”
“If your homeboy scratches my car, I’m having your car stripped and dropped around Stonebridge like Easter eggs.”
He paused.
“That feels premeditated.”
Her smile turned sweet. “It is.”
Lennox got out first and walked around to open her door. Lane was already out by the time he got there.
“I don’t need you to open doors for me,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then why are you standing there?” She wanted to know.
“Because I wanted to.”
His fingers brushed against her when he took the keys from her hand. A small connection with electricity that caused Lane to pull her hand back first.