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The few pictures around are similar and I’m surprised it’s taken me so long to put together.
But then again, I have had my attention elsewhere.
So, Nate’s a music magazine editor.
Good for you, buddy. Maybe you took a side trip we don’t know about?
Well, wherever he is, I hope he’s not planning on coming home tonight.
I’m fully alert to the possibility though and have an exit plan in case he does.
I can scoot out the back door if he does turn up and scale his fence into Krystal’s yard.
But I hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ve got the perfect view of her place from right here.
What feels like three night’s worth of wait gradually becomes the gray light of dawn, and I feel excited knowing I have another day ahead of us both together.
Debating whether I should grab a quick shower, knowing I really have to. I see some movement down the street.
A dark truck parks a few doors down, and somebody gets out.
Heavy jacket, cap pulled down. Could be anyone. But he’s headed straight for Krystal’s place.
I hear a low growl echo off the walls as I tense up. Gripping the sides of the chair as I watch the guy move into her yard, using both hands to hoist himself up and look over her fence into the rear yard.
In seconds I’m down the stairs and out the door.
In four long strides, I have the prick by the throat, lifting him up off the ground by it.
“Trying to get a good look, eh?” I snarl, watching his pale and terrified face turn a deeper shade without blood flow.
“Well, I’m here now. You can look at me all you want,” I tell him, pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear, reminding him what a huge mistake he’s just made.
He gurgles, kicking some and one of his hands connects with my body, making him wince in pain.
A light comes on in the house and I hear Krystal’s shrill voice.
“Oh my god, Blake No! Stop!”
I turn to see her, a light dressing gown blown open by her swift steps. The full view of her silk pajamas underneath.
Those thick hips and thighs. Her nipples like rivets in the frigid morning air.
“It’s the yard guy. It’s Mark… He does your lawn!” she cries out.
I loosen my grip, but before I let him down and I murmur into his ear. “I’m Blake Mason. The new neighbor. You do my lawn, got it?” I rasp.
“Sorry for the misunderstanding pal, I’ll make it worth your while,” I growl in his ear. “But if you don’t play along that I’m her new neighbor, I swear I’ll finish what I just started. Got it?”
He nods feverishly, choking as I let go, fishing into my pocket for my billfold and with my broad back to Krystal I thrust the whole thing into his hand.
“Reparations,” I murmur. “Just play along, yeah?”
Rubbing his throat as he pockets the thick roll of bills he nods, but there’s a look in his eyes of a man who might already be planning revenge.
I know I would.
“Jesus, Blake!” Krystal scolds me, checking if the guy’s alright. “You’re gonna kill somebody if you don’t take it easy.”
Chapter Eleven
Krystal
“Yeah, it’s me. Mark. See Mr. Mason?” Mark tells Blake who’s finally let him go but still stands over him like a towering oak.
“I thought it was a prowler,” Blake tells me, still panting from all the excitement. “He was looking over your fence like he was gonna climb it.
“My dad said you’d be here early to give us a quote on the yard, front and back,” I tell Mark, apologizing as best I can.
Blake doesn’t seem to think there’s a problem, but he can’t just go yanking people or pushing them around when he doesn’t get his way.
“Are you alright?” he asks me, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I think you should ask Mark that, don’t you Blake?” I snap at him, turning on my heel and shaking my head.
Going back inside before I slam the door shut.
I can hear Blake and Mark still, low, quiet voices.
Not angry anymore, so maybe he is apologizing.
He’d better be.
Puffing my temper out through my cheeks I try to fix some coffee before I realize it’s all still next door over at Blake’s house.
I growl loudly and want to stamp my feet, throw something.
I’ve never had anyone make me swing so suddenly from crazy crush to plain crazy in a second until meeting Blake.
There’s a chime at the door, and I can’t be sure if it’s the lawn guy or Blake until I open it.
It’s Blake.
Mark looks like he’s heading away from the yard and I can’t blame him.
I block the doorway with my arm, keeping my grip on the handle, only raising my brow in question at Blake.
“Krystal. I thought he was a god damned prowler. What else was I supposed to do? His truck is down the street and he’s all covered up in that jacket and cap…”
