Chapter Fourteen #2
“Lane, stop.”
“No.”
“You’re not listening,” he huffed, frustrated.
“That is correct.”
“She asked to meet, and I agreed so I could end whatever she thought we had.”
Lane whipped around. “Ending what, Lennox?”
His face tightened. “An arrangement that existed before you and had been over emotionally for a long time.”
“Emotionally? How poetic. Did your mouth send the memo to the rest of you?”
His jaw flexed. “It was over.”
“Then why was her hand on you like she’s yours?”
“Because she doesn’t like hearing no.”
Lane laughed once. “Neither do you. Maybe y’all should start a support group.”
He stepped closer, voice lowering. “I didn’t touch her. I don’t want her. I met her in public to make it clear I’m unavailable.”
Lane’s heart wanted to believe him, but her fear wanted blood. Sadly, her ego and fear won.
“Congratulations. You’re unavailable to me too.”
His expression shifted. “Don’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
She got in the car, locked the doors, and drove off with him standing on the sidewalk calling her name.
By the time she reached the next red light, she had blocked him on everything a la Cadence style.
She was hurt when he didn’t try to fix things, and instead Lennox left town with KC on business that night.
Which meant Lane had a full week to marinate in heartbreak, fury, pride, and YouTube videos about vehicle disassembly.
Nova had called it a concerning hobby, and Cadence had called it “not legally advisable.” Lane had called it closure.
By the time Lennox returned to Stonebridge, his custom luxury car sat in a private garage looking like a Thanksgiving turkey after family dinner—nothing but a metal carcass.
No tires.
No doors.
No hood.
No trunk.
No seats.
No steering wheel.
No mirrors.
No headlights.
The car was so stripped it looked embarrassed to be seen naked. It was like the scene from Black Panther when Klaue destroyed the car Nakia and Okoye were driving.
Lane unblocked him at 8:07 p.m., and his call came through at 8:08. She answered on the second ring and said nothing. For three seconds, all she heard was breathing.
Then Lennox’s voice came through, low and lethal. “Lane.”
She smiled into her wine glass. “Robot.”
“What the fuck did you do to my car?” The agitation was clear in his voice.
“You mean the emotional support Batmobile?” she questioned.
“Lane.”
“The one parked in the garage looking like somebody served it with cranberry sauce?”
“Where are my parts?”
She swirled her wine. “Around.”
“Around where?”
“Stonebridge.”
Then he laughed, “You scattered my car parts around the city?”
“I told you not to play with my heart.”
“I didn’t play with your heart, girl!” He yelled.
“Then consider this an educational scavenger hunt. Have fun finding them, and consider them heartbreak Horcruxes.”
He went silent as Lane could practically hear him deciding which emotion to process first. She hung up on him, and twenty minutes later, Lennox stormed into KC and Cadence’s kitchen like vengeance in a black T-shirt.
Lane was at the island eating grapes with Nova and Cadence, who was perched on a stool with one hand beneath her belly and the other wrapped around a glass of water.
Khalil stood near the fridge, looking like a man already too amused to help anybody.
Tariq sat near the pantry, eating chips straight from the bag because, apparently, chaos made him snacky.
Lennox pointed at Lane. “You.”
Lane popped a grape into her mouth. “Me.”
“You stripped my car.”
Cadence gasped, one hand flying to her chest. “Lane.”
Lane shrugged. “He hurt my feelings.”
Cadence’s eyes immediately narrowed at Lennox. “What did you do?”
“Why am I automatically guilty?”
Nova looked at him. “Because your history precedes you.”
Lane leaned back in her chair. “He was at lunch with that woman from the baby shower.”
Cadence’s face changed. “Oh.”
Nova sat up. “Oh, hell no.”
Lennox threw both hands out. “I was ending things, and I told you that.”
Lane rolled her eyes. “Convenient that you told me after I saw her hands on you.”
“I didn’t invite her hand.”
“Did you amputate it?” Lane asked dead serious.
Tariq pointed at Lane with a chip. “Valid question.”
Lennox turned on him. “Shut up.”
Cadence rubbed her belly. “Lennox, you have to understand how that looked.”
“Thank you,” Lane said.
“No,” Lennox snapped. “No, don’t thank her yet.”
He pulled out his phone and Lane’s smile faded a fraction. “What are you doing?” she asked as her voice got softer.
“Ending this stupid ass trial.”
He tapped the screen and put the call on speaker. It rang twice. Then a woman answered, voice low and arrogant.
“Well, crawling back so soon after breaking things off?”
The kitchen went silent, and Lane’s spine went straight.
The woman continued, “Hood Rat Barbie must refuse to listen to reason. Come see me. I’d love to make you feel better.”
Lane stood so fast her stool scraped against the floor. Cadence’s mouth fell open. Lane was realizing with each passing second how wrong she’d been.
Nova whispered, “Oh, she chose death.”
Lennox looked at Lane.
Lane held out her hand. “Give me that phone.”
“Lavender—”
“Give. Me. The. Phone.”
He handed it over because he had survival instincts and had already lost a car. Lane lifted the phone to her mouth, voice sweet enough to frighten everyone in the kitchen. “Hood Rat Barbie?”
Then the woman said, “Who is this?”
“The bitch whose name you just put in your mouth.”
KC muttered, “Jesus.”
Lane smiled. “Listen to me very carefully, Fashion Nova Fitzgerald. You will not crawl, slither, sashay, or DoorDash your desperate ass anywhere near my man.”
Lennox’s eyes bucked at her newfound possessiveness. Tariq’s chip paused halfway to his mouth while Nova covered her lips with both hands.
The woman scoffed. “Your man? Please. Lennox likes women who know how to—”
“I will suck Lennox’s dick until my jaw locks before I ever let your fast-fashion hands near him again.”
Everyone was looking at Lane show her ass over Lennox, and she didn’t give a dam. What made her smirk was Lennox staring at Lane as she had just rewired his entire nervous system with one sentence, and she wasn’t done.
“And if you want to see how unreasonable Hood Rat Barbie can be, keep playing with me. I will show up and drag you up and down the street until those cheap ass clothes turn to dust like they’re part of the wardrobe from Infinity War.”
The woman sputtered. “You’re insane.”
“Very about Lennox Jackson’s big dick, bigger wallet having ass.”
Lennox took the phone gently from Lane’s hand before she could upgrade the threat matrix.
“That’s enough,” he said into the phone.
The woman started, “Lennox—”
“It’s done,” he said. “It’s over, and if you think of contacting me or anyone near me, you’ll be living life with a restraining order against you.”
He ended the call.
The kitchen held one full second of stunned silence before Tariq whispered, “Jaw locks is crazy.”
Nova exploded, and Cadence laughed so hard she had to grab her belly. “I’m not supposed to laugh this hard. These babies are sitting on my bladder.”
KC leaned against the counter, shoulders shaking. “I’m leaving. I can’t be a witness to Booty Talk 103: Jaw Locks.”
Lane’s face went hot, but she lifted her chin. “What?”
Lennox turned to her slowly. His expression was dangerous. Not angry anymore. He was amused and nearing insufferable. “You’re definitely about to lock your jaw tonight.”
Tariq stood. “On that note, I need air.”
Cadence pointed at Lane, still laughing. “Good luck, friend.”
KC looked at Cadence, then at Lane, then at Lennox, then back at his wife. “Come on.”
Cadence blinked. “Where?”
He moved toward her, eyes darkening with shameless married intent. “Waddle your ride-or-die ass upstairs.”
“Khalil Reed.”
“My dick hard, baby. Let’s go.”
Nova screamed, “I hate it here!”
Tariq covered his ears. “That’s my brother!”
Lane stared at them. “Y’all are unwell.”
KC pointed at her while guiding Cadence toward the stairs. “Says the woman who just threatened to drag the fast fashion clothes off a woman.”
“Lane.”
She looked at him. “Yes, Robot?”
His eyes moved over her face, hot and serious now beneath the humor. “We’re leaving.”
“Oh, are we?”
“Yes.”
“And your car?” She snipped.
“One of many; I’ll find my heartbreak Horcruxes tomorrow.”
Lennox ignored him, holding his hand out to Lane as she took it.
Every bit of anger she’d carried for the past week had lost its clean edge.
Not because the hurt hadn’t been real. Seeing him with that woman had dragged old fear straight out of the grave.
Lane knew she was foolish for trusting the fear, foolish for believing a man like Lennox wouldn’t eventually choose the easiest version of himself.
But he hadn’t. He hadn’t broken it off when it got complicated and messy. He tried to explain.
And Lane, who had spent years demanding honesty from people, had blocked him before he could give it. She wasn’t apologizing yet. Lennox pulled her gently toward him, leaning down until his mouth hovered near her ear.
“You scattered my doors across Stonebridge,” he murmured.
“You hurt my feelings.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For how it looked. For not telling you before I met with her. For giving your fear room to tell you a story I should’ve killed before it had legs.”
Lane looked up at him. That apology was sincere and touched her in a way she hadn’t expected it to.
“I should’ve let you explain,” she said.
His brows lifted. “Was that an apology?”
“Maybe.”
By the time they stepped outside, the warm and humid night air hit Lane, carrying the scent of rain and cut grass. Lennox’s SUV waited in the driveway because, obviously, his other car had been reduced to an art installation about consequences. He opened the passenger door for her.
Lane paused before getting in. “I’m not done being mad.”
“I know.”
“And you’re not done being punished, and I expect you to find every single part,” she ordered.
“I will.”
“There are themes and poems for each part,” she added.