3. Bax
CHAPTER 3
Bax
“W hen we get to the property tomorrow, you and I can go over the changes you’ve made to the blueprint and confirm that everything will fit within the property lines.”
“It will fit,” Albert says, and my fingers flex around the steering wheel.
“It should , but we still need to confirm that before we submit everything to the county. You’re not just wanting to change the interior layout by adding another room to the already existing floor plan; you want to add an extra three-car garage that changes the entire footprint of the house,” I state calmly, wishing Talon would have agreed to call Albert back instead of pawning the call off on me.
I love my job, but I absolutely hate dealing with our clients. At least the ones who think that, just because they have some money, they should be allowed to do whatever they want.
“We purchased three acres. If it doesn’t fit, I should just buy a house in a subdivision and save myself the headache of building.”
He did buy three acres, but the lot is longer than it is wide, so what he’s trying to accomplish might not be possible, at least not with the second garage attached to the house.
“We’ll figure things out tomorrow when we meet at the property.” I turn onto my street, and it takes me a minute to comprehend the sight in front of me. A large semi is backed up to the edge of Kourtney’s driveway, almost blocking the entire cul-de-sac.
Olivia is standing in front of the truck, wearing sneakers, a pair of tight black shorts that hit her midthigh, and a loose, long-sleeved top that is cut off, showing a glimpse of her waist, her hair up in a bun on top of her head. Both her hands are up, pressing against the front grill like she is preventing the truck from moving or could possibly stop it from going forward if the man behind the wheel decided to put his foot on the gas.
What the fuck?
“Albert, I’m going to have to call you back. I just ran into an issue.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got some work to do. I’ll just see you tomorrow at nine.”
“That works. See you then.” I hang up as my gaze locks on Olivia, who looks panicked. Then again, she’s facing off against a fucking semi.
I angle my truck in a way that, if the semi tried to leave the cul-de-sac, they’d have trouble getting around me without hitting my vehicle, then throw the shifter in park. Getting out, I tell Gemma to stay and slam my door shut.
“Oli, back the fuck away from the truck,” I order over the sound of the engine of the semi revving as I walk up to her.
“They told me they’re not dropping off my stuff unless I pay them two thousand dollars on top of the eight thousand I already paid them.”
“All right.” I get close to her and lower my voice. “We’ll sort this out, but I need you to back away from the truck.”
“I—”
“Please,” I grit out, and she looks like she’s about to listen, but right at that moment, the engine revs once again, causing her eyes to narrow.
“No.” She lifts her chin stubbornly. “I’m not moving until they give me my stuff.”
“Oli—”
“I’m not moving. You’re going to have to pry my dead body from their bumper.”
Fuck me. I don’t remember her being so stubborn when she was younger, but then again, I don’t really know the woman in front of me.
Pulling out my phone from my back pocket, I dial 911, then tuck my cell between my shoulder and ear before I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her in a bear hug.
“What are you doing?” she shrieks when I lift her off of her feet.
Ignoring her, I carry her toward my truck. Then, with her still kicking, wiggling, and shouting for me to put her down, I tell the operator to send an officer to my address. When I get to my truck, I put her on her feet and press her up against the side of it, using my height and weight to hold her in place so she can’t get loose. Opening the door and maneuvering her into the space, I force her up and onto the passenger seat, hearing the semi move forward and catching a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye as it gets closer to my truck.
“I’m not?—”
“You’re going to sit here until the police show up,” I clip, cutting her off, and her head jerks back, her eyes flaring with disbelief.
“I’m not a kid. You can’t tell me what to do!” she shouts, attempting to get out.
“I’m well aware that you’re not a kid anymore.” I wrap my hand around her thigh and squeeze, watching her full lips part. “Sit here and talk to the dispatcher until the cops get here.” I shove my cell into her hand, then slam the door shut before she can say anything more.
Hoping like fuck that she stays put but knowing that isn’t likely, I go to the driver’s door of the semi that is now just inches from my truck and motion for the asshole to roll down the window.
“Move your truck,” he grouses.
“The cops are on the way right now.” I plant my hands on my hips, watching the guy in the passenger seat flinch at the mention of the police getting involved. “And I’m guessing you’ve got a contract to deliver the things in this truck to this address, but instead, you’re attempting to extort the woman sitting in my truck, which isn’t going to go over well.”
“Move your truck, or I’m running it over.”
“I’m not going to do that.” I shake my head.
“Move your fucking truck!” he yells, lifting a gun in my direction.
Shit.
“Dude!” The guy in the passenger seat backs toward his door as if the gun is pointed at him .
I hold up my hands. “Don’t be an idiot, man,” I say quietly, sounding much calmer than I feel. “You don’t want to?—”
“Don’t point a gun at him!” Olivia shrieks from behind me, cutting me off.
Un-fucking-believable.
I let my head fall back to my shoulders even though I don’t take my eyes off the threat in front of me.
“Go back to the truck, Olivia,” I growl.
“I’m not?—”
“Go back to the fucking truck,” I bark, never taking my eyes off the driver, whose panicked gaze is pinging from me to behind me, where I know Olivia is standing.
When I hear a door finally slam behind me, I’m able to drag in a breath. “Put the gun down, man.”
He pushes his arm farther out the window. “Move your truck.”
“Fuck this,” the passenger says, opening his door. “I told you not to fucking try to get more money from her, Derik.”
“What the fuck, Fizz?” Derik swings his head around to face his friend, the gun still pointed at me.
“You know I’m on probation, and Amanda will kick my ass if I go back to jail with her knocked up.”
“We’re not going to jail.”
He’s probably wrong about that, given the current circumstances.
With Derik distracted, arguing with Fizz, I close the distance between me and the truck door. Then, using my height to my advantage, I grab Derik’s wrist with my right hand, hearing him curse as I pull downward and twist, then use my left hand to remove the gun from his grasp. From its weight, I know instantly that it’s a fake, but I still shove it in the back of my jeans as I keep hold of him. Using the leverage of his arm out the window to keep him immobilized, I step up on the rail that runs along the side of the truck.
“Shit.” His friend starts to get out of the cab, and I pin him in place with my glare.
“Do not fucking move,” I bite out, and he holds up his hands.
“I’m not going anywhere, man, but I’m telling you that I wanted no part of this.”
“Shut the fuck up, Fizz,” Derik hisses.
“Take the key out and toss it into the road,” I tell Fizz.
“Don’t do it, man,” the driver groans.
“ Now ,” I snap, and Fizz quickly reaches over to remove the keys from the ignition but starts shaking his head.
“He has to put it in park.”
“Do it,” I tell Derik, and he glares at me. I put weight on his arm, listening to him gasp in pain.
“Okay, okay!” He uses his free hand to put the truck in park, and Fizz reaches over, turns off the engine, then throws the key out through his still-open door.
With the truck shut down, I relax slightly, but I don’t let my guard down. For all I know, there could be another weapon in the cab. This time, a real one.
“Hands where we can see them.” Two officers—one male, one female—appear at the front of the truck with their guns drawn, and then they make their way to either side.
“Amanda is going to kill me,” Fizz whines. If he was telling the truth and wanted no part of what his friend had planned, I feel a little bad for the guy. Hopping down from the rail I’d been standing on, I put my hands up.
“In the back of my jeans, I have a gun that I removed from the driver. I’m pretty sure it’s fake, but I’m just letting you know,” I tell the female officer, and she motions for me to turn around. When I do, she removes the gun from the waistband of my jeans and does a quick pat down of my hips.
“Go stand over there while we get these two sorted,” she says when I turn back around to face her. With a nod, I walk to my truck, where Oli is standing, with her hands twisting in front of her and her eyes locked on me.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly, and she shakes her head before rushing me. Her body slams up against mine so hard it knocks me back a step, and I sigh, enclosing her within the circle of my arms. “It’s all right.”
“I thought he was going to shoot you,” she whispers, her body shaking from the adrenaline rush. It’s almost comical that facing off against a semi didn’t seem to faze her, but a gun being pointed at me has her shaking like a leaf.
“The gun wasn’t real.”
“Did you know that when you took it from him?”
I’m saved from having to answer when the female officer walks up to join us.
“Now that we’ve got those two sorted, do you want to explain exactly what happened?”
I look from her to the other policeman, who has both men sitting on the ground with their hands cuffed behind their backs.
With a shaky nod, Olivia lets me go but sticks close to my side as she tells the officer what happened. She explains that the driver showed up to deliver her things but told her that they wouldn’t drop anything off until she gave them two thousand dollars. When she refused, because she signed a contract with the moving company and had already paid in full, which included the taxes and delivery fee, they told her they were leaving. She panicked because they had her stuff and followed him outside. Then, when it was obvious they were actually going to take off, she attempted to block the truck so they couldn’t, which was when I pulled up.
“Do you have a copy of your contract?” I ask her gently, and her gaze comes to me.
“Yes, it’s on my computer.”
“Go get it, babe,” I tell her, and she nods before rushing toward the house.
“Is she going to be allowed to get her things off the truck tonight?” I ask Officer Gassett, and she looks at the semi, then the two men, one of them looking pissed and the other one freaked.
“I’m not sure. I need to speak with Officer Farlow,” she says, turning her attention to the SUV that pulls up and parks next to my truck. When I see it’s my cousin Cobi, who is a detective in town, I know he must have heard over the scanner that I called in, then came to see what was going on.
“Everything okay?” He walks up to join us with his badge attached to his hip.
“Liam’s little sister, Olivia, just moved in next door. The guys over there were supposed to drop off her things but tried to take off when she refused to pay them an extra two thousand dollars.”
“I’ve heard that’s a scam some of these delivery drivers are pulling.” He looks at Officer Gassett. “Have you called in Marshall?”
“I was waiting to talk to Farlow. He’s getting a statement from the guys,” she says, and Cobi shakes his head.
“Call him now. He’s going to need to be filled in. You’ll also need to have him sign off, so the items to be delivered can be removed from the truck,” he explains, and even though she looks a little put out by him telling her what to do, she nods, then wanders off.
When I hear a door shut, I turn to watch Olivia jog down the front steps of the house with a sheet of paper in her hand.
“That’s not Liam’s little sister,” Cobi mutters, and I look over at him, narrowing my eyes. When he turns my way and sees the look I’m giving him, he grins. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”
“Don’t go there,” I bite out, and he chuckles.
“Sorry,” Olivia says as she joins us. “I had to call Kourtney so I could use her printer since mine is in the truck.” Her brows drag together, and then she tips her head to the side as she takes my cousin in. “Cobi?”
“Yep.” The single word pops.
“Hey.” She smiles. “It’s been a long time.”
“It has,” he agrees.
“How have you been?”
“Good, and you?”
“Besides this situation, I’ve been all right.” She laughs, then her face goes soft along with her voice. “I heard you got married and had a baby.”
“I did, and I would show you pictures, but my cell is in my truck.”
“Another time.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, and she smiles again, then turns that soft smile my way, and fuck if I don’t feel it.
“This is the printout of the contract, along with a list of all the furniture there is and the number of boxes there should be in the delivery.” She glances over at the truck. “Do you think I’ll be able to get my stuff out of there tonight?”
“You should be able to,” Cobi tells her, then his eyes come to me. “You should call the guys. We’re going to need their help unloading everything once the sergeant clears things up with the delivery company.”
“Oh.” Olivia shakes her head. “That’s okay. I can just call Liam and see if he can come help me.”
I don’t even have to look down at the list in my hand. From the quick sweep of it that I did when she passed it to me, I know she has fifty or more boxes and a full apartment’s worth of furniture. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
“I guess you’re right. I just feel bad. It’s already late.”
“With more people helping, it won’t take very long to get it all moved,” I assure her, turning to Officer Gassett when she walks over to us with her cell phone pressed to her ear.
“Is that the contract?” she asks softly, dropping her eyes to the paper I’m holding.
“Yeah.” I pass it over to her.
“Thanks.” She walks away with it while Officer Farlow starts leading the two guys to one of the police cruisers. Neither of them says anything, but if looks could kill, I’d be dead where I’m standing from the glare Derik shoots my way.
“I think you just made an enemy,” Oli whispers, and without thinking, I wrap my hand around her waist and squeeze her hip. Of course, Cobi sees and tries but fails to hide his stupid fucking smug smile.
Shit.
Dropping my hand, I look down at Olivia when she grabs my wrist. “You should probably get Gemma out of your truck.”
“That’s a good idea,” Cobi says in agreement, that self-satisfied smile still twisting his lips. “I’ll wait here. You two go take care of Gemma and make whatever phone calls you need to in order to get people over here.”
Even if Olivia is oblivious, I know what he’s doing, but what he seems to have forgotten is that Oli is my best friend’s little sister, who is several years younger than me. So even if she is beautiful, which she really fucking is, those are just two reasons why I’m not going there.