Finally, he turns to face me. “What in the hell do you want to talk about that we couldn’t say back at the overpass?”
“I want to talk about you stalking my wife. Yesterday, I took you at your word that you would leave her alone and allowed you to walk away. We woke up to more shitty threatening messages from you this morning, so I think it’s time to have a more serious conversation.”
He gives me a confident grin. “Do you think this is some kind of negotiation? All I have to do is file a police report. You’ll get arrested for assault and battery. Then you won’t be around to attack me anymore.”
“That might have worked,” I explain, taking a step closer. “Unfortunately, you left behind evidence of stalking in those text messages. I’ve read every crazy word you’ve ever written to my wife.” I lean close and lower my voice. “Once you file a police report, we’re gonna turn over those text messages, and the cops are gonna start looking at your phone records, your movements,your history with my wife. You’re gonna catch a charge or two. It’s gonna be a long, expensive, public process. And it all ends with me walking out of it and you not.”
“You assaulted me in a fuckin’ grocery store in front of God and the world,” he says, but some of the confidence has evaporated from his voice. “There were security cameras. Why do you think they’d let an outlaw biker walk free but not me?”
“They’re gonna watch footage of you cornering a woman alone in a produce aisle after months of documented harassment and decide who the bad guy is in this scenario. I’m guessing it won’t be the husband protecting her.”
His expression turns worried. He crosses his arms over his chest, and one hand comes up to wipe at the blood on his bottom lip.
“You got a well-deserved punch yesterday for messing with my wife. You got another one for cursing me out instead of having a polite conversation. If you want to keep being an ass, I can tune you up every damn day.”
“Nova and I were meant to be together,” he stammers. “Her grandfather knew that. You tricked her into a marriage she didn’t want.”
“Nope. That’s just the lie you tell yourself to soothe your bruised ego. Nova roundly rejected you. She chose me by walking down the aisle, saying I do, and then knocking on my door and asking to share my bed. She’s now mine in every way that matters.”
His expression turns furious, likely because I just verified that she gave her virginity to me. Ignorant men care about thestupidest shit imaginable. “Fucking fine,” he grinds out. “Take her. She’s a whore anyway.”
My hand comes out before I can stop myself, and I bitch-slap him across the face. “I’m really sorry that you can’t manage to control your mouth. But here’s the problem and the reason I’m seriously considering just giving you a fuckin’ dirt nap and being done with you. The problem is you’re a liar, and liars can’t be trusted.”
His mouth opens to object, but I cut him off. “You said you’d leave her alone and then started the harassment right up at the fuckin’ crack of dawn. If that wasn’t bad enough, you slashed her fucking tires.”
Devon is shaking his head the second he hears the words slashed tires. “I didn’t mess with her car. That’s risky. She might get into the car without realizing and wreck it. I wouldn’t do that!”
As I stare into his eyes, he keeps babbling, repeating himself several times. That last time is with enough genuine bewilderment that Slate says quietly, “He’s telling the truth about the tires at least.”
Slate is never wrong. If my brother has a superpower, it’s separating truth from fiction. If he says Devon is telling the truth, I believe him.
I glance over at Onyx. “Check Devon’s phone. I want to be sure.”
Onyx jerks the phone out of Devon’s hand and goes through it methodically. Devon leans against the wall andwatches. All the texts I’ve already read on Nova’s phone are there. Onyx frowns.
“This is some seriously fucked up shit. This asshole is all over the place. He’s insulting and gaslighting her one minute and promising her undying love, the next. No wonder she got the hell away from him.”
Devon has the decency to look embarrassed.
“Is there anything in there about trying to get to her inheritance or businesses?”
“Nothing like that,” Onyx answers. “Nothing suspicious. It looks like he’s just another dude with a fixation on his ex and impulse control problems.”
I tell Onyx, “Keep the phone. I want Striker to analyze it.” Striker is our resident IT genius. He, along with his geek squad, aka Mitch and Donnie, can usually be relied on to get into any device.
Walking over to Devon, I tell him point blank, “You’re gone from this area,” I tell him. “Not just this neighborhood or town. I want you out of this state. Pack what you need and leave within the hour. If I have to circle back around for you, you’ll be getting that nap I mentioned earlier. Are we clear?”
He looks at me for a long moment, and his eyes drop. His expression is defeated. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re clear. I don’t want to wind up dead at the hands of Ragers over a woman who doesn’t even want me.”
I slap him on one shoulder. “That’s a good decision. You aren’t the first man who lost his head over a pretty woman, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Devon just grunts. We put him back in his truck, pull down Slate’s bike, and watch Devon drive away. I’m standing in the parking lot, thinking good riddance to bad rubbish, when my phone rings. Nova’s name is on the screen. I answer it immediately.
“Mica.” Her voice is panicked with an edge of fear. “The trucking company office is on fire. I need you.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
***
