by Debra Lynch
I pulled up her number, and she answered on the third ring sounding so damn happy I wanted to bash her face into the wall and see how she’d look with a bloody lip and a black eye.
She spoke, sounding all proud of herself. Like the future Mrs. Dennis Smith could actually raid her fiancé’s house and demolish the joint. I wanted to strangle her and watch those pretty blue eyes glaze over. We talked for a few minutes, and I let her think she’d gotten away scot-free. I think Rachel was actually planning to hang up on me. But I beat her to it.
My mouth curved into a sinister smile when I queued up the text video of her trashing my house along with the photo of her precious Aunt Madeline. I stabbed the send button and slammed the phone onto the shag carpet.
My nostrils flared as I sucked in sharp gasps of air. I paced the living room, my heart thrashing in my ears. The RACHEL4EVER tattoo itched and burned as sweat ran down my chest.
My jaw set, and I pushed up my sleeves. Settling in on the edge of my ratty sofa, I have to say I had one helluva time viewing The Namasté Getaway. And the best part of the show—watching Rachel sweat.
My eyes narrowed as she bantered with Levi. Stupid jerk. My mouth twisted into a scowl as he smiled at the camera while shoving a hand through his hair. Ever heard of a comb, dude? Jesus. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. She better not be fucking him. That thought made my blood boil.
Rachel was one great little actress, I’ll give her that. But I knew her better than anyone. Certainly better than Levi because he didn’t seem to notice the fine bead of sweat that broke out on her upper lip and the muscle that twitched above her left eye.
It wasn’t five seconds into their sponsor break when my phone rang, and I got to hear Rachel beg for her life.
Groveling suited my Rachel. I listened with a satisfied smile until she finished her rant. Then I stabbed the end button and relaxed into my beanbag chair with a contented sigh.
Rachel would see things my way.
After the way Rachel had treated me, I planned to play hard to get, and wouldn’t you know it, it worked. Kind of.
That night Rachel showed up at my house, banging on my door and pleading. The sound of Rachel begging was a sweet melody.
I called the cops on her, and enjoyed watching Rachel’s face go white when the fuzz gave her the third degree. Rachel left, but thirty minutes later, she was back, slipping a love note through my letterbox.
After she drove away, I savored reading the note and held it to my heart. I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s meet. Rachel. XO.
She’d signed with an XO. Rachel loved me.
I sat at my kitchen table and carefully pasted the letter into the scrapbook I’d started of our life together.
I made Rachel wait four full days before I finally graced her with a phone call to set up a date. A good con man needs time to think up smart strategies, and I thought the train track scheme was goddamn brilliant.
But then things took a turn for the worse when Rachel nearly let me get plastered by a deadly locomotive in my fake suicide attempt.
Did she think she could treat me like a piece of dirt? Well, you got another thing coming, Princess. I had the video, and if she didn’t play by my rules, her reputation as a goody two shoes yoga vlogger would be over. Her career, her fancy house on the beach, and her aunt’s life were all in my hands.
Next time it would be her life on the line. Not mine. I could allow this one transgression because Rachel was worth it. But three strikes, baby, and you’re out.
I couldn’t stay mad at Rachel for long.
When I tested her love, I’ll admit, I was hurt when she didn’t save me.
But this was all part of a passionate relationship. Drama, conflict, lust, and fire. That’s what we had.
Poor Rachel. Did she really believe me when I said I wouldn’t expose the video of her vandalizing my house? Doubtful.
I learned my lesson after last time. This time the gold mine of a video of her latest sin was not saved to my computer. Who knows? Rachel probably knew someone who could hack into my system remotely.
This time I’d saved her B&E video to a thumb drive only. The evidence was safely buried in the flowerpot alongside the letter opener, way in the furthermost corner of my backyard, behind the oleander bush. Just let her try to break in and find it because now, not only did I have cameras inside my house, I had them scanning the backyard, too.
Rachel came around. Something shifted in her attitude, and that something sat in a wheelchair watching the world pass her by. Wouldn’t want to see harm come to your pathetic aunt!
We went to movies, ate at vegan restaurants, shopped together. One day, after yoga class, she even offered to redecorate my house.
This is what girlfriends did. Compliant girlfriends. “We can do that. So long as you’re paying.”
“Of course I’ll pay.”
“After you redecorate you can cook dinner at my house.”
“I’d love to.”
The vision of Rachel slaving over a hot stove in my kitchen before I slipped her a roofie was enough to make me forget all about her hissy fits. “When?”
“Like you said. As soon as your place is redone.” Her face lit up. “It’s going to be gorgeous. How about if I meet you at the Sofa Haus day after tomorrow?”
And what do you know? Forget about the train tracks. My careful plan to woo Rachel paid off. We were an item.
I couldn’t be happier. Maybe it was okay to allow her a few temper tantrums. If it resulted in this kind of lavish attention, let her break all the dishes she wanted.
The thing of it was, I loved Rachel. And she loved me.
The day after Rachel promised to redecorate my house, I sat at my desk with my feet up, scanning other people’s carefully filtered pictures on Instagram. A smile spread across my face. My life was finally hashtag-no-filter. What Rachel and I had was real.
A flicker on camera number four caught my eye, and I sat forward. Well, well. If it wasn’t Rachel’s little friend, that ridiculous partner of hers from the yoga show.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I couldn’t wait to have a little fun with Levi.
I took the stairs two at a time and hid at the end of aisle five, where Levi inspected some handmade jewelry. Just when his hand closed over a turquoise necklace, I placed a firm grip on his forearm.
He spun around in alarm. “Whoa!” He scanned the security badge which hung around my neck.
I gave him my best smile showing my pearly whites. “Hey!” The look of fright on his face was nearly comical enough to cause me fits of laughter. “I’m a fan of your show.” He stared at me, his green eyes penetrating. “You thought I was gonna put the cuffs on you.”
A look of relief crossed his face—the kind of handsome, chiseled face framed by dark wavy hair that I’ll bet all the girls loved. But not Rachel. Rachel was mine. “Oh.” He laughed. “You watch our show?”
I didn’t appreciate the way Levi said our show. “Love it. Never miss it.”
We stood in the middle of the store, sizing each other up. And then I saw it.
When I realized what Levi wore on his wrist, I backed up a few steps and knocked a glass snow globe off the shelf. I caught it just in time and replaced it. Sweat broke out on my brow, and my chest tightened. I cleared my throat and gave him a shaky grin. “Nice bracelet.”
He held it up for my inspection. “Right?”
“Where’d you get it?”
“A good friend gave it to me.”
A good friend? Oh, I’ll just bet that’s what he thought of my Rachel. “Did they now?”
He gave me a quizzical look, his eyebrows knit together. “Yes.”
I stood stiffly, my hands briefly clenching. “Make sure you take good care of it then. Looks like a lot of thought went into it. Beautiful design.”
His green eyes bore into mine while we looked at each other for long seconds. I could win a staring contest with this man any day of t
he week. The store felt hot. I was acutely aware of every sound—a baby crying, one of the salesclerks droning on to a customer about the authenticity of our locally made soaps, my breathing noisy in my ears. Levi’s eyes were an unusual shade of green. I’ll bet the ladies loved his bedroom eyes, now didn’t they? But he didn’t have what I had. Or did he?
I gripped his hand and held on in a shark-like handshake and gave him a fake smile. “I’m Dennis, by the way. Dennis Smith. Fantastic show. Big fan.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Thank you.” I continued to shake his hand so hard I probably hurt him, as was my intention. He tried to extricate his grip, but I wouldn’t ease up. Just kept shaking like a lunatic. “Glad you like it.”
I intensified my grip. “Oh I do. Best thing on YouTube. Really great. Fabulous.” I shook harder. Levi’s hand was strong, but I had the benefit of adrenaline. “Keep up the good work.”
“We will.”
I gave him a flat look, my eyes narrowed. “I especially like your sidekick. What’s her name again?”
“Rachel.”
“That’s it.” I searched his face and detected a redness creep across his cheeks. “Love her. Great fun.”
“She is.” Several long moments passed as my hand squeezed his. I wanted to pummel the guy into the ground and make him hurt. “Okay. I better get going.” He smiled and withdrew his hand.
“Is she as pretty in real life?”
He gave a polite smile. “Very. And smart. Okay. Thanks for the support.”
He turned quickly and made for the exit. I followed him all the way to the front of the store at a fast clip, my heart racing. “Nice meeting you. Levi, isn’t it?”
He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “That’s me.”
I stepped through the doors and watched him stride across the parking lot. He turned his head to look back, and I waved like a wild man, a massive grin on my face. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yelled, “Fantastic show. Nice meeting you!”
I stood there, jealousy swirling through me as his fancy SUV, a Porsche Cayenne Turbo, peeled out of the parking lot, the tires chirping like he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of dodge.
After Levi drove off, I spun away in a huff, stomped up the stairs, and slammed the door of my office so hard the floor shook, and the pictures rattled in their frames. I picked up my coffee mug and hurled it with force against the wall where it shattered into a million shards. “Fuck!”
What the hell was Levi Swift doing wearing Rachel’s going steady bracelet?
When I got to the vacant house next to Rachel’s for my inspection that night, Levi’s SUV was parked right next to her Tesla.
My eyes widened, and my hand jerked up to my mouth. Levi with my princess after dark?
Every other time I’d stood vigil, the douchebag was gone way before sunset, probably off to a pansy-ass meditation circle or some shit.
I can’t say I was exactly surprised. Fucking hell. What was this? Happy hour? Just as I suspected, the prick was far from the harmless “colleague” that my beloved was trying to sell me.
It was my job to keep Rachel safe from jerks like Levi. He didn’t care what was best for her, just wanted to ride her coattails.
My breath came faster as I stood in front of her expensive house. Up-lights shone from the ground, sending spiky shadows on the walls from her pricey plants. My mouth twisted at the eerie outlines that matched my mood.
I never left home without being totally prepared. Most idiots didn’t understand how important it was to think ahead.
I wore black jeans, black shirt, black shoes, a black wool cap pulled over my head. I tested the weight of my backpack. I had everything I needed.
First thing I did was tiptoe onto the wraparound deck and spray out all her security cameras with wasp spray. That was the way to go because the retractable wand extends up to eight and a half feet.
When I moved to the shadows of her deck, I settled in for the show. Anger shot through my system when I saw the happy couple yucking it up in her kitchen. My body tensed, and I wanted to spit right into Levi’s face.
He stood over a salad bowl and sprinkled some kind of herbs into the bowl as Rachel laughed at everything he said. A pounding filled my ears, and I wanted to kick the chaise lounge. She giggled at something, throwing her pretty head back, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when he swatted her on the butt.
All the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. How dare he touch my girlfriend?
My breaths came coarser and faster as the anger flooded through me. I wanted to kill the motherfucker. I peered at his wrist, and sure enough, Rachel’s going steady bracelet was firmly attached.
My movements were quick and sharp as I slid my phone out of my pocket and texted Rachel. See you at the furniture store tomorrow after work. Be there at six.
She picked up her phone and shook her head. Fine. See you then, and went right back to joking around with Levi.
My jaw hurt from clenching so hard. How dare she enjoy his company. They weren’t in front of a camera right now. She didn’t need to act.
Levi refilled Rachel’s wineglass, but some of the red liquid sloshed over the side. I jabbed out another text. Can’t he do anything right?
Rachel’s surprised gaze flicked toward the sliding glass door, and our eyes met. I smirked and held up my phone with a smile, but I was far from happy.
My heart knocked against my ribcage so hard I thought it would explode. No fucking way was Levi taking my Rachel.
My vision clouded as I hightailed it to the front of Rachel’s house. My breathing came in gasps, and adrenaline shot through my system as I dug into my jeans and found my sharp pocketknife. I angrily scrawled the word SLUT into the shiny paint job of the driver’s side door of Rachel’s Tesla, then I searched through my pack until my hand closed around the crowbar.
I hoisted the tool over my head and took a running start for Rachel’s Tesla. I let out a guttural roar as it pierced the windshield, shattering it into cobwebs of broken glass. The noise nearly broke my eardrums when the car alarm whoop filled the night. I punched the windshield with violent jabs until all that was left was a mess of splintered glass.
A pounding filled my ears, and I knew I had to move fast. With ferocious savagery, I swung the iron rod overhead, twirling it toward Levi’s SUV like I starred in a horror movie. I backed up, took another run, and smashed his windshield. Take that you fucking pansy man.
I angrily shoved the rod into my pack and made a break for it.
I’d made it halfway down the block when I glanced over my shoulder, and there was Levi, his arms pumping furiously as he shot through the night in a weak attempt to nab me. “Come back you motherfucking coward!”
Strength surged through my legs as I all-out sprinted, the ocean pounding in the background, my lungs burning as my breath came in sharp gasps. I turned into an alley, raced up the hill, made a right on the next street, and didn’t stop until I was five blocks away.
I stood under a tree, my hands on my knees until I caught my breath. Then I calmly walked toward my car and drove home.
Did Rachel think she could toy with my heart? I could turn her in so fast that a smashed-up windshield would be like a day at the beach compared to her dingy prison cell.
Eighteen
Rachel was not thrilled to see me the next day at The Sofa Haus, but I set her straight.
I told her how hurt I was that she gave Levi her going steady bracelet. Yeah, she fought me a bit, but like always, she saw things my way. What can I say? Rachel craved a real man who’d take control.
We spent the rest of the afternoon picking out the sofa, and I felt like the couple we were destined to become. This is what a good wife did for her man—redecorate his house, make a love nest for the two of us. Our spat was long forgotten as Rachel wielded her American Express platinum card to pay for my pricey new sofa.
When I got home that night, I pulled up her yoga website and stared at the picture of h
er precious Aunt Madeline. It would be so easy to wrap my fingers around the old lady’s neck, crush her windpipe, and watch her turn blue. Let’s see how she’d outrun me in her wheelchair then.
I hadn’t been truthful with Rachel.
Truth was I’d made several visits to her Aunt Madeline’s house over the past few weeks. Madeline was nuttier than a fruitcake but always happy to see me for sweet tea on her front porch. Happier than a dead pig in the sunshine, whatever the hell that meant.
She liked to pry into my personal life, but I suppose that’s part of being from the South. That part of the country seemed awfully cozy with one another. I made sure to give her the sanitized version of my life. Yes, sir, I was clean as a whistle when it came to Madeline.
I pedaled my bike up to her house under a hotter than hell sun, and she waved from where her wheelchair parked on the spacious porch. “Dennis! Get up here this instant. You’re sweating more than a sinner in church.”
I skipped up the steps. “Hey there. Mind if I sit?”
“I’d be meaner than a wet panther if you didn’t.” She motioned toward the pitcher of tea. “Help yourself. Lord knows we’ll be needing extra today.”
I settled in on the wicker chair next to hers, filled my glass, and took an extra-long sip. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Anything, hon.” She patted my knee, her brows knit together. “You okay? You look like you don’t have a pot to piss in. What’s up?”
“It’s… I was wondering if I could tell you a secret.”
She clapped her hands together. “Secret! I’ve been praying for a juicy bit of gossip. Watcha got?”
My finger traced the condensation on my glass. “It’s just that … that … I have a crush on Rachel.”
Her grin was immediate. “Well aren’t you precious?”
If Madeline sang my praises, Rachel would hop into bed for sure. Hell, I wouldn’t even need the Rohypnol after a while. I leaned forward. “We’ve been talking. You know, because of my uncle’s store. And I think I might ask her out. What do you think? Think you can put in a good word?”