Games of the Heart
Page 24
He didn’t get it. If she didn’t have Yolanda coming in once a week to clean and do laundry, their bedroom would be knee deep in clothes and shoes and she’d go buy underwear before she’d do laundry. But she’d pitch a fit if he made a sandwich and left crumbs on the counter.
This shit stuck in his craw when he was living with her even if, while living with her, he got to bang her. One could say Beau had more than his fair share of women and without a doubt Dusty was the best he ever had. No other even came close. Since she lost her mind and kicked his ass out, he’d thought about it and decided his woman was complicated and he could live with that.
What he couldn’t live with was calling her when she was home in Indiana and having some guy answer the phone at six in the f**king morning then getting a visit from Hunter telling him to get over it and move the f**k on.
No.
Fuck no.
He didn’t need Hunter Rivera in their business. He never liked that guy anyway mostly because Hunter thought Beau was a dickhead and didn’t hide it so he didn’t need Hunter up in his business. And he didn’t need his woman playing games of the heart using some faceless guy in her hometown.
And she needed to know that.
He was done with this separation.
She needed to know that too.
He walked through the big living room into the enormous kitchen that fed off it. He could still hear the music but now he could see through the abundance of huge picture windows that Dusty was out in the shed at her wheel.
He was about to walk out the backdoor when he heard her cell go.
He looked down at the counter then moved to it and picked it up. On the display was a graphic of a phone ringing and under, it said, “Mike calling”.
Beau stared at the phone.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Mike. Jesus, f**k. Mike.
She’d just been back to The ‘Burg. And Beau knew all about Mike from The ‘Burg. Not only had Dusty mentioned him more than once in a soft voice, her eyes warm and sweet with memories but her f**king brother mentioned him too. Frequently.
Jesus. Fuck. She’d hooked up with f**king Mike from The ‘Burg.
Beau’s hand tightened around the phone and he waited until it stopped ringing. He was jabbing his finger on the screen to go to her recent calls when he heard the phone beep in his hand saying Mike had left a voicemail. He saw the recents list show that this was call two from Mike.
Fuck him.
He went to her voicemail and hit go then put the phone to his ear.
Then he heard a man say in a gentle, deep voice, “Hey Angel. I got a minute to talk. You’re around, call back. You’re not and it’s later, call back anyway. Later honey.”
Angel.
Honey.
Fuck him.
He deleted the voicemail and shoved her phone in his back pocket.
Then he stomped through the kitchen, out the backdoor and to the shed.
Twenty minutes later, he was in his pickup with a cruiser trailing him, his eyes to his rearview mirror seeing Hunter Rivera with his hands on his h*ps standing outside the shed next to Dusty who had her arms crossed on her chest. Both were watching him drive away.
His mouth tight, his eyes went to the road then back to his rearview mirror to take in the cruiser.
His official escort off Dusty Holliday’s property.
Fuck him.
*
“Rivera,” Mike greeted.
“Mike, got an update you’re not gonna wanna hear, bro.”
Mike jerked his chin up to Merry then he twisted in his chair, aimed his eyes to the floor and ordered, “Talk to me.”
“Well, you gave me the greenlight on Sunday, I didn’t delay. Gave the good news to my woman, got my reward and, feelin’ happy, went out and had a word with Beau. Honest to Christ, thought he got me. Now it’s Tuesday morning and I’m drivin’ back into town from bein’ out at Dusty’s place. Beau showed.”
“Fuck,” Mike whispered.
“Yeah,” Rivera agreed. “So I hauled my ass out there and figured since he wasn’t listenin’ to her or me, it was time to make it official. So I brought a cruiser with me.”
“Good call,” Mike muttered.
“Yeah,” Rivera repeated. “Me and my boys in uniform made it crystal that he’s not welcome on Dusty’s property with Dusty standin’ there confirming this info. Beau looked displeased. I shared that there would be no further dickin’ around with this and, he tried that shit again, my advice to Dusty would be to get an RO. Seein’ as Dusty was standing right there, she was available to confirm immediately a restraining order would be her next step. So, I shared that this RO would include not only him not gettin’ near Dusty’s property but also Dusty or phoning her or using any electronic communication of any kind to hassle her. Again, Beau didn’t look pleased. But he had a seriously pissed off Dusty on his hands as well as three police officers. He saw the wisdom of gettin’ his ass in his pickup and gettin’ gone.”
“What’s your gut say?” Mike asked, knowing exactly what his was saying after hearing all that shit.
“My gut says that Dusty’s property is out of town. Not out of our jurisdiction but she’s not in the town proper and thus not an easy drive-by. So my gut says I’ll be calling some friends at the County Sheriff after we’re done and cluin’ them in. Between the Sheriff’s boys and my boys, we can keep a better eye on her. That said, no way this is twenty-four, seven. She’s out of town and sittin’ on twenty acres so no one close and she’s not prone to lockin’ her doors ‘cause, lucky for us, crime ‘round these parts, especially out in the boonies where Dusty lives, isn’t prevalent. So I told her to keep her doors locked, including on her truck when she’s in it and including when she’s awake and in the house. I also told her to keep her music down when she’s workin’ so she can be more aware. This mornin’, he snuck up on her. She was so into what she was doin’ and had her music on, she didn’t see him comin’. That shit stops today. And I’m also gonna have a word with Javier who comes a couple times a month to look after her land and Yolanda who comes every week to look after her house to keep their eyes open.”
That was a lot and because it was, this did not make Mike feel good.
“You think he’s that big of a problem?” Mike asked quietly.
“No. But I think I was a cop in Dallas for ten years and I saw shit that you, also bein’ a cop, are probably one of the few who would believe. Safe is a f**kuva lot better than sorry.”
This shit stuck in his craw when he was living with her even if, while living with her, he got to bang her. One could say Beau had more than his fair share of women and without a doubt Dusty was the best he ever had. No other even came close. Since she lost her mind and kicked his ass out, he’d thought about it and decided his woman was complicated and he could live with that.
What he couldn’t live with was calling her when she was home in Indiana and having some guy answer the phone at six in the f**king morning then getting a visit from Hunter telling him to get over it and move the f**k on.
No.
Fuck no.
He didn’t need Hunter Rivera in their business. He never liked that guy anyway mostly because Hunter thought Beau was a dickhead and didn’t hide it so he didn’t need Hunter up in his business. And he didn’t need his woman playing games of the heart using some faceless guy in her hometown.
And she needed to know that.
He was done with this separation.
She needed to know that too.
He walked through the big living room into the enormous kitchen that fed off it. He could still hear the music but now he could see through the abundance of huge picture windows that Dusty was out in the shed at her wheel.
He was about to walk out the backdoor when he heard her cell go.
He looked down at the counter then moved to it and picked it up. On the display was a graphic of a phone ringing and under, it said, “Mike calling”.
Beau stared at the phone.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Mike. Jesus, f**k. Mike.
She’d just been back to The ‘Burg. And Beau knew all about Mike from The ‘Burg. Not only had Dusty mentioned him more than once in a soft voice, her eyes warm and sweet with memories but her f**king brother mentioned him too. Frequently.
Jesus. Fuck. She’d hooked up with f**king Mike from The ‘Burg.
Beau’s hand tightened around the phone and he waited until it stopped ringing. He was jabbing his finger on the screen to go to her recent calls when he heard the phone beep in his hand saying Mike had left a voicemail. He saw the recents list show that this was call two from Mike.
Fuck him.
He went to her voicemail and hit go then put the phone to his ear.
Then he heard a man say in a gentle, deep voice, “Hey Angel. I got a minute to talk. You’re around, call back. You’re not and it’s later, call back anyway. Later honey.”
Angel.
Honey.
Fuck him.
He deleted the voicemail and shoved her phone in his back pocket.
Then he stomped through the kitchen, out the backdoor and to the shed.
Twenty minutes later, he was in his pickup with a cruiser trailing him, his eyes to his rearview mirror seeing Hunter Rivera with his hands on his h*ps standing outside the shed next to Dusty who had her arms crossed on her chest. Both were watching him drive away.
His mouth tight, his eyes went to the road then back to his rearview mirror to take in the cruiser.
His official escort off Dusty Holliday’s property.
Fuck him.
*
“Rivera,” Mike greeted.
“Mike, got an update you’re not gonna wanna hear, bro.”
Mike jerked his chin up to Merry then he twisted in his chair, aimed his eyes to the floor and ordered, “Talk to me.”
“Well, you gave me the greenlight on Sunday, I didn’t delay. Gave the good news to my woman, got my reward and, feelin’ happy, went out and had a word with Beau. Honest to Christ, thought he got me. Now it’s Tuesday morning and I’m drivin’ back into town from bein’ out at Dusty’s place. Beau showed.”
“Fuck,” Mike whispered.
“Yeah,” Rivera agreed. “So I hauled my ass out there and figured since he wasn’t listenin’ to her or me, it was time to make it official. So I brought a cruiser with me.”
“Good call,” Mike muttered.
“Yeah,” Rivera repeated. “Me and my boys in uniform made it crystal that he’s not welcome on Dusty’s property with Dusty standin’ there confirming this info. Beau looked displeased. I shared that there would be no further dickin’ around with this and, he tried that shit again, my advice to Dusty would be to get an RO. Seein’ as Dusty was standing right there, she was available to confirm immediately a restraining order would be her next step. So, I shared that this RO would include not only him not gettin’ near Dusty’s property but also Dusty or phoning her or using any electronic communication of any kind to hassle her. Again, Beau didn’t look pleased. But he had a seriously pissed off Dusty on his hands as well as three police officers. He saw the wisdom of gettin’ his ass in his pickup and gettin’ gone.”
“What’s your gut say?” Mike asked, knowing exactly what his was saying after hearing all that shit.
“My gut says that Dusty’s property is out of town. Not out of our jurisdiction but she’s not in the town proper and thus not an easy drive-by. So my gut says I’ll be calling some friends at the County Sheriff after we’re done and cluin’ them in. Between the Sheriff’s boys and my boys, we can keep a better eye on her. That said, no way this is twenty-four, seven. She’s out of town and sittin’ on twenty acres so no one close and she’s not prone to lockin’ her doors ‘cause, lucky for us, crime ‘round these parts, especially out in the boonies where Dusty lives, isn’t prevalent. So I told her to keep her doors locked, including on her truck when she’s in it and including when she’s awake and in the house. I also told her to keep her music down when she’s workin’ so she can be more aware. This mornin’, he snuck up on her. She was so into what she was doin’ and had her music on, she didn’t see him comin’. That shit stops today. And I’m also gonna have a word with Javier who comes a couple times a month to look after her land and Yolanda who comes every week to look after her house to keep their eyes open.”
That was a lot and because it was, this did not make Mike feel good.
“You think he’s that big of a problem?” Mike asked quietly.
“No. But I think I was a cop in Dallas for ten years and I saw shit that you, also bein’ a cop, are probably one of the few who would believe. Safe is a f**kuva lot better than sorry.”
