CHAPTER NINE
“Yo, Kensey!”
Pausing in repositioning the helmets on the shelf, I arched a brow at Henry, knowing what was coming.
“Yo mama’s so fat, the only way to get her out of a telephone booth is to grease her thighs and throw a Twinkie in the street!”
Laughter rang throughout the bar, and I rolled my eyes. “Yo mama jokes are old and overused, Henry—just like yo mama!”
He put a hand to his chest. “Ho, ho, ho—a shot across the bow.”
I shook my head, smiling. But that smile morphed into a frown when Sarah’s hand abruptly snapped around my upper arm and she marched me forward.
“Mom, we’re taking our break now,” she declared.
Standing at the bar, Sherry frowned at us. “All right.”
Sarah didn’t speak again until she’d hauled me into the breakroom and closed the door. “I want to know what happened with Blake on Saturday. Come on, you were supposed to call me yesterday to fill me in. Then you promised me this morning that you’d tell me when we went on our break, and I can’t take the suspense anymore. Spill, woman, spill.”
Retrieving my cell out of the locker out of habit, I settled at the table. Once she took the seat opposite mine, I told her about the events that unfolded on Saturday just as I checked my emails. None were from Smith. It was a relief, since I didn’t want to hear from him. But it was also irritating, because I wanted him to hurry and reach the end of whatever game he was playing—the longer he drew this shit out, the more time he’d steal from my life.
As I finished my tale about the basement, Sarah’s mouth fell open. “God, Kensey, you have to get me into this club.”
“What?”
“Come on, just once. Please.”
“Aside from Blake, I think most of the guys there are into the BDSM lifestyle.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
I folded my arms, staring at her in surprise. I’d expected her to tease me, laugh, and be full of questions. I hadn’t expected this. “I didn’t think you were into BDSM.”
She shrugged. “I’m curious about it. There’s a BDSM club near the biker compound, but I’m scared to go in there. I wouldn’t have a clue how to behave, and I don’t know if they’d be okay with me going inside just to get a feel for what it’s like. The basement of the Vault sounds perfect for me. It’s somewhere safe and fun, where I can talk to people who are part of that lifestyle and find out if that kind of thing is really for me.”
Still surprised, I shook my head. “I can’t believe you never mentioned it before. You’re not exactly a private person.”
“It’s not like I’m a regular sub or anything. I’m just interested, but I don’t yet know how I feel about it all.” Propping her elbow on the table, Sarah rested her chin on her hand. “When are you next seeing Blake?”
“He said he’d call me this weekend.” And I was very much looking forward to a repeat of Saturday night. There was no denying that the guy was damn good in bed, even if he could be a demanding bastard at times.
“Good,” said Sarah. “You can ask him then if it would be all right for me to go there some time.”
I sighed. “I’m not sure if he’ll allow it. It’s a ‘members only’ thing.”
“The whole club is members only. He said we could go back to the Clubhouse,” she pointed out. “That’s members only too.”
“And he might think that’s enough of a favor to you. Besides, the two places are vastly different.”
“Just say you’ll ask him. Please.”
I raised my hands. “I’ll ask him.”
“And please say you took photos of the dome. I’d at least like a glimpse of what it looks like.” She snatched my phone, presumably to check my picture album. “A shot of Blake naked would be even better.”
I chuckled. “Oh yeah, that’s how I spent my night—snapping photos.”
Her thumb paused on the screen, and her brows drew together. “Huh.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “I’m just thinking it’s odd that you took a photo of a cup of coffee on your table. But then, you’ve never been normal.”
I frowned. “Let me see.” I looked at the picture, and my skin prickled. “I didn’t take this.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.” I checked the date that the photo was taken. Friday. “Maybe it was Cade. He turned up at my apartment Friday night.” But I’d had my phone with me at the Clubhouse, hadn’t I? I couldn’t be sure.
“No, you can see the sun shining through the window. This was taken in the daytime.”
She was right. And then I remembered … “I accidentally left my phone at home while I was at work on Friday.”
“You certain?”
“Yeah. I remember because I’d wanted to jot down some ideas on my notepad app, so I’d been pissed with myself for leaving my phone at home. I definitely didn’t have it with me at work that day.” And that left only one explanation as to how the photo came to exist—an explanation that made my insides seize up and an ice-cold finger flutter down my spine. “Someone broke into my apartment, Sarah,” I said, amazed and chilled. “Someone broke into my apartment, made themselves a fucking cup of coffee, took a picture to prove it, and then left.”
Sarah paled. “It still might have been Cade. He has a key to your place, and he’s weird enough to do something stupid like that, not thinking it would scare you—he doesn’t know about Smith.”
There was one way to know for sure. I strode out of the breakroom and, ignoring Sherry’s questioning look, stalked out of the bar. I found Cade inside CCC, singing along with the radio while working on a badass bike. I showed him my phone. “Cade, did you take this photo?”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“Did you take this?”
He looked at it, and his frown deepened. “No. Why would I snap a picture of a cup of coffee? Why would anyone?”
I exchanged a worried look with Sarah, who was stroking Bandit.
Cade smoothly got to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
I wiped all emotion from my face. “Nothing. Nice bike. Whose is it?”
As easily distracted as a cat, Cade jabbered on about the bike and its famous owner. I nodded along, smiling, but my mind was on that damn picture … and on what that picture indicated. Smith had been in my goddamn home. My. Home.
Back inside the bar, Sarah pulled me into an empty corner and whispered, “It has to have been Smith. Ricky. Whatever you want to call him.”
I nodded. “He wanted me to know he’s been in my apartment. Wanted to show me how clever he is. God, Sarah, the bastard was in my fucking home.” I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.
Sarah rubbed her upper arm. “Do you think he might have broken in before?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he has.” The fucker. “Cade said that he closed and locked the door after coming into my apartment Friday night, but the door was open when I got there.”
Sarah’s face hardened. “I’ll bet Ricky wasn’t expecting to see Cade there. He either broke in because he knew you were out or because he thought you were asleep—I don’t like either of those possibilities.”
No, neither did I. “We need to check my other photos to be sure he hasn’t taken any others in the past—I don’t make a habit of forgetting my phone, so I doubt he has, but I’d rather know for sure.”
Sarah and I flicked through the photo album, and I was relieved to find that I’d taken the other pictures myself. That relief left me in a rush when I realized that … “A video was recorded on Saturday. I didn’t do it.”
“Play it,” urged Sarah. Huddled together, we both watched as the camera blinked on, showing my living room. Whoever was holding my cell phone moved forward into the kitchen and then through to my bedroom. That was when I heard the echo of water hammering against porcelain, and my stomach sunk.
Just as I’d anticipated, the bastard walked right into the bathroom and videoed me in the shower. Yes, videoed me in the shower with my own damn phone. Thanks to the shower curtain, there wasn’t much of me to see, but that wasn’t the fucking point.
“Bastard,” Sarah hissed as the video came to an abrupt end.
Nostrils flaring, I clenched my fists. Rage pounded through me, tightening my chest. “I’ll kill him, Sarah. I swear to God, I’ll kill him. The idea of jail time doesn’t scare me.”
“He’s one cocky motherfucker to break into your home while you’re there and pull this shit.” Sarah chewed her thumb. “He wants to mess with your head, but he clearly doesn’t want to hurt you. If he did, he’d have done it already. Still, you should call the police.”
I shook my head. “I won’t let Ricky screw up what I’ve achieved.”
“You don’t have to mention the story he wrote. You can just tell them that it’s clear someone’s been in your apartment. I know Joshua wouldn’t take it seriously, but you could state that you want someone else to handle it.”
“Which would get me nowhere. Even if it did, think like a cop for a moment, Sarah. The guy broke in, yes, but he didn’t hurt me so, like you, they’ll think he’s not a physical threat. They’re no signs of forced entry, nothing has gone missing—I’d have noticed by now if there was—and there’s no way at all to tell who took that video. If they believe it’s Ricky, they’ll take into account that he never physically hurt me now or in the past. Back then, he just liked to send whiny letters. If the police don’t believe it’s him, they’ll probably say it was someone playing a prank and then act like I’m being dramatic.”
“But—”
“Do you remember when I was almost mugged? The police didn’t even take that seriously. They said that without a proper description of the culprit, there wasn’t much they could do. They’ll easily ignore this, especially since Joshua will have fun ensuring they do.”
Sarah sighed. “You’re right. But you need to take this more seriously now, Kensey. Ricky clearly isn’t satisfied with just writing a weird story. He wants you to be scared, but scaring you from afar is obviously not enough for him anymore. He wants to get close to you, and he wants you to know that he did.” She licked her lips. “Are you going to tell Blake?”
I double-blinked. “Why would I? Part of our arrangement is that our lives don’t mix outside of the Vault.”
Her shoulders sagged. “He’s the kind of guy who could take on shit like this. You know, it might be time to tell our families. They need to know that Ricky’s hanging around and to keep a lookout for him.”
I rubbed at my temple. “Clear won’t take this well.”
“I know, but Ricky could try harassing her to upset you. She needs to be on her guard. Forewarned is forearmed.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll tell them.”
“And Reed should know, too. We can keep out the online story and that you self-publish books. We’ll just say someone broke into your home and made a recording of you, and that we think it’s Ricky, since he’s been hanging around.”
I gave a slow nod. “You tell Reed. I’ll tell the others.”
Clear agreed to have me and the Armstrongs for diner that evening. As I’d expected, they hit the roof on hearing what had happened—apart from Sarah, of course, who sat quietly. As for the others … Cade was pacing, looking murderous. Clear was cupping her face, seeming lost and anxious. Sherry was unnaturally calm as she sipped her coffee, eyes narrowed. And a red-faced Dodger was grinding his teeth and drumming his fingers on his thigh.
Clear dropped her hands to her lap. “Kensey, you should have told me sooner.”
“Like straight away,” added Cade, glaring at me.
“I didn’t think Ricky would do anything else—I thought the story would be enough for him,” I said. “He’s been a shit in the past, sure, but he only confronted me once. And he didn’t send more than four letters before he got bored. I figured he’d get bored just as quickly again.”
Sherry glared at Sarah. “You haven’t said a word, so I’m guessing you already knew about this.”
“I asked Sarah not to say anything,” I told Sherry.
“Yes, I’d imagine you did,” groused Sherry. “But Sarah should have done her best to convince you to confide in us so that you weren’t alone in this.”
Sarah snorted. “Kensey does what Kensey wants to do. I did what any best friend would do in that situation—I gave her what she needed and supported her decision.” She glowered at her brother. “I wouldn’t be glaring at her like all this is her fault.”
Cade snorted at her. “If she’d told me and not you, you’d be sulking in the damn corner.”
Sarah looked affronted. “I would not.”
She totally would. “Can you all really blame me for not saying anything to you sooner? Honestly?” Looking at Sherry, I said, “I knew you and Dodger would do exactly what you’re thinking of doing right now—you’d tell me to stop working at the bar and lie low for a while until Ricky’s caught. Am I right?”
Sherry and Dodger exchanged a guilty look.
“Hiding isn’t me, and the bar … it’s a home away from home to me. I won’t let Ricky make me lose what’s way more than just a job to me.” I turned to Cade. “I knew you would plan to hunt Ricky down and kick his creepy ass, even if it meant taking time off work that you can’t afford to take. Your customers don’t simply pay to have their bikes worked on; they pay for you and your dad to do it. It’s your time they want. I don’t want Ricky messing with your job any more than I want him messing with mine. I wouldn’t give him that kind of power.” I looked at my mother. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d worry like crazy and insist I move in with you, which isn’t the answer.”
“Well you should move back home for a while,” Clear insisted.
“Mom, no.”
“You can’t honestly mean to stay in that apartment, Kensey, he probably has a key!”
“Probably, which is why I had the locks changed earlier. Reed’s cousin is a security specialist. He set me up with some wireless alarm system. The little cameras will start recording if the window or door sensors detect any noise or motion. I’ll then get a notification sent to my phone, and I can access the video footage from anywhere using the nifty app that comes with the system. I also got a keychain remote in the package, so I can set off my alarm from anywhere with the push of a button.”
Clear didn’t look appeased. “Alarms aren’t always enough to keep people safe.”
“No, they’re not. But if I move in here, I could turn his attention to you. So far, he’s focused on me. I want it to stay that way.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m your mother; it’s my job to protect you.”
“But you can’t,” I said gently. “Not from someone like him.”
Sarah put a comforting hand on Clear’s shoulder. “Kensey’s good at taking care of herself, Clear. She took self-defense classes for years, and she fought off a mugger in the past. I truly think that if Ricky meant to physically hurt her, he’d have done it already. And then she’d have kicked the living shit out of the little bastard.”
Clear didn’t speak for a long, tense moment. “You should tell your dad, Kensey. He should know what’s happening.” Something in my expression must have given me away, because she narrowed her eyes. “You already told him, didn’t you?”
“I needed to know if anyone had mentioned me in their letters to him. Ricky hasn’t been in touch with Michael for a while, though.”
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me,” Clear whined.
“He didn’t want you to be stressed.”
Shoulders slumping, Clear sighed, resigned.
“You’re absolutely sure it’s Ricky Tate?” Sherry asked me.
“Why else would he be hanging around if it isn’t to mess with my head? I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted Bill to tell me.”
Cade paused in his pacing. “You think he pushed Bill enough to make him wary, hoping Bill would then warn you and make you anxious?”
“Possibly,” I replied.
Clear shook her head. “Ricky was always … rash. So angry and eager to lash out. I wouldn’t have believed he’d have the patience for this sort of thing.”
“It’s been a long time,” I told her. “People change. Besides, he is lashing out. He’s just doing it in a devious way rather than a confrontational way.”
Dodger rubbed his jaw. “We’ll keep our eyes open for any sign of him.”
“If Bill’s description is anything to go by, Ricky hasn’t changed much,” said Sarah.
“You remember what he looks like?” I asked Cade.
He nodded. “He’s not a person I’ll ever forget.” Because, like Sarah, Cade was there that day when Ricky confronted me outside school.
“I have to confess, Kensey, I only vaguely remember the description you gave me,” said Sherry.
“He has squinty gray eyes,” I said. “Short, thick dark hair. Has very noticeable acne scars. He wore a red ballcap the one time I saw him. He was gangly back then, but that might have changed since he’ll be in his late twenties now.” I looked at Sherry, Clear, and Dodger. “Think you guys can remember that? I’ll write it down if you need me to.”
“Don’t worry, Kenz, I can draw a sketch of his face,” said Cade. He was a talented artist, so that would help. “I don’t suppose Michael can give you Ricky’s address, can he?”
I shook my head. “All he remembers is that Ricky lives in Jacksonville with his mother, which could have changed by now.”
Cade tilted his head. “Is this why Blake went to see you? You asked for his help finding Ricky?” He looked … hurt by the idea.
“No. I lost my earring at his club. He returned it.”
Clear’s eyes lit up with intrigue. She was obsessed with matching me up with someone. “Are you talking about Blake Mercier, Dodger’s business partner? You’re dating him?”
I inwardly sighed. “No, I’m not dating him. Sherry can verify that he doesn’t like me.”
Sherry set down her cup. “To be honest, sweetie, I really don’t think the matter of whether he likes you would stop him from pursuing you if he was truly interested.”
“He has women falling all over him,” I said. “He doesn’t need to pursue anyone.”
“True enough,” agreed Dodger. “Is there anything that we can do to help with the Ricky Tate situation, other than be on the lookout for him?”
“At the moment, no,” I replied. “Though I’d appreciate you running him clean over with your bike if the opportunity presents itself.”
Dodger chuckled darkly. “Oh, darlin’, I’d be happy to.”
When we all later filed out of the house and headed to our respective vehicles, Cade pulled me aside. “I don’t like that you’re insisting on staying at your apartment, Kensey. I get that you don’t want to let the little fucker chase you out of your own home, but I’m worried about you. Move in with me for a while.”
I was pretty sure Blake wouldn’t like that.
“If you won’t do that, at least let me stay at your place for a few weeks.”
I was pretty sure Blake wouldn’t like that either. Still, I’d have taken Cade up on his offer if I thought it was necessary. But this was another reason why I hadn’t wanted to tell Cade—I knew he’d worry like crazy and hate for me to be alone. “I thank and adore you for worrying, but I’ll be okay. I’ve updated my security, and I’ll be more on my guard now.”
Jaw hardening, he shook his head. “I don’t like this, Kensey. I don’t like it one little bit.” When I didn’t back down, he cursed. “If he manages to break in again or he hurts you in some way, you move out. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” I agreed.
With a mollified nod, he kissed my cheek. “I’ll follow you home on my bike and do a walkthrough of your apartment before you go inside. Don’t argue with me on this, Kensey, I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t at least do that much.”
I gave him a soft, grateful smile. “You’re awesome, you know.”
“Yeah, I do know.”
I just chuckled.
During my lunchbreak the next day, I was typing the skeleton of a scene in my notepad app when Dodger entered the breakroom. Blinking in surprise, I looked up and said, “Hey, Dodger.”
“Everything okay, Dad?” Sarah asked.
Sighing, he plucked at his beard—a sure sign that he was troubled. “There’s something you need to see, Kensey.”
Tension tightened my muscles. I exchanged a worried look with Sarah. “What is it, Dodger?”
“You’ll see. And you’re not gonna like it.”
With Sarah close behind me, I followed Dodger out of the bar and into CCC—which was currently closed for lunch—and into his own breakroom. From his spot near the kitchenette, Bandit rose to his feet, ears perked. I gave the dog’s head a quick scratch as Dodger led me over to a small, wall-mounted T.V. in the corner. I realized that he had some security footage paused on the screen.
Dodger pointed at a guy who was loitering near CCC but whose attention seemed to be on the bar. “Recognize him?”
The face was a bit blurry but, yeah, I recognized it easily enough. It was as familiar as the thick hair and gangly build.
“That fucking asshole,” snapped Sarah. “If that’s not Ricky Tate, it’s his goddamn doppelganger.”
“After you told us about Ricky,” began Dodger, “I got to thinking about the time some guy was skulking outside, watching the bar. The second Cade asked what the hell he wanted, the guy bolted. Cade gave chase, but only in the hope that it would discourage him from coming back. Here, see for yourself.” Dodger pressed ‘play’ and stood back.
I watched the scene unfold. Watched as a person who looked remarkably like Ricky jerkily shifted from foot to foot. Cade turned his way, hands fisted. I couldn’t hear what he said, because there was no audio, but it made Ricky stiffen. Then he fled. The fucker was fast. Cade ran after him, but not at full speed—it was clear that he’d only meant to chase him off, just as Dodger had said.
Stopping the footage, Dodger said, “Afterward, Cade said he knew the guy from somewhere but couldn’t place him. I figured he’d probably just been lurking around here before.” Dodger sighed. “I played this for Cade and, well, you should know that he’s feeling bad that he didn’t try to catch him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Idiot.”
“That’s what I said,” said Dodger.
Sarah leaned against the wall. “That’s what I’ve always said. Shame you guys don’t listen to me more often.”
After shooting his daughter a brief look of reprimand, Dodger told me, “I checked all the video footage I have. Ricky hasn’t lurked in that spot before or since then. If he was watching the bar before or after that day, he wasn’t doing it from there.”
“Does Mom know about this yet?” Sarah asked him.
“Why do you think she’s been snippy all morning?”
“I just thought you weren’t giving it to her regular—she gets like that when she’s, you know, frustrated.”
Incredulous, Dodger shook his head at Sarah. “Do you have no filters?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
The door of the breakroom swung open. Cade strolled in, carrying a deli bag that smelled of warm bread and peppers. Realizing we were crowded near the T.V. monitor, he gave a sheepish smile. “You saw it, huh?”
“I also see that you’re pissed at yourself because you didn’t try to grab him,” I said. “Which is utterly stupid.”
Cade’s jaw hardened. “If I’d caught him and seen him up close, I would have recognized him for sure. This could all have been over, just like that.” Cade clicked his fingers. “So, yeah, I’m pissed at myself.”
I snorted. “Idiot.”
Cade flicked a look at his father. “That’s what he said.”
“You should listen to us,” I told him. “We’re fucking brilliant.”
Cade snickered. “Your coffees are brilliant.”
“Yes, they are,” I agreed. “Give me five minutes and I’ll bring you each a black coffee.”
“It was good thinking to check the footage, Dad,” said Sarah.
Dodger gently tugged on his beard. “Do you think that’s definitely Ricky Tate?”
“I’d say it is,” said Sarah. “And I’d say he’s definitely the one causing Kensey problems. It is way too much of a coincidence that someone who looks like Ricky would be hanging around these parts at the exact same time that some asshole has targeted her.”
“I’m working on getting his address,” said Cade. “There can’t be many Richard Tates living in Jacksonville.”
“He lived with his mother,” I reminded Cade. “The house will probably be listed under her name, which is good because I don’t want you tracking him down. You’re too pretty to survive in prison.”
“I won’t take time off work to find him,” said Cade. “But I will do it in my own time. There’s no point in lecturing me about it, Kensey. I’ll locate the little shit if it kills me.”
I sighed, knowing there would be no sense in pushing him. Cade wouldn’t respond to pressure. He was as strong-willed as I was. He obviously felt that finding Ricky would make up for having let him get away. “Fine. Whatever. But I meant it when I said you were an idiot for being pissed at yourself. You don’t need to ‘fix’ anything.” But he just looked at me blankly. My words were falling on deaf ears. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
Sarah snorted, as if it was a given that he’d do something dumb. The irritating thing was … she was likely right.