Chapter 13

LENNOX

Stevie blocked my number. She's been avoiding me like the plague since the morning I left her house, and it's driving me fucking insane. Even worse, she's been avoiding her shop. No doubt, because she knows I'll fucking show up there. I've been by the house enough times. The curtains are drawn, and there's no activity in and out from what I see. Meaning she's really fucking good at not being found when she wants to avoid people. Which only makes me wonder why.

What could this girl possibly have to hide from besides me?

Regardless, one thing is for sure. I need to get her attention and make her realize she can't just ghost me. She has no choice but to admit that night was more than one fucking night. We're more than a fling, especially after I took her home the other night. The way she was with me, the way she trusted me despite the shit she was talking. She feels something for me but doesn't want to admit it.

She thinks she can block me, and I'll just go away.

Give up. Not a fucking chance.

I've got a plan, and tonight, it's all going down.

Or, up in flames.

Swinging my arm over my head, I bring the sledgehammer down on the hood of the old Honda Civic. The impact dents the thick metal and smashes one of the small front headlights, sending shards of tiny glass pieces to the dirt ground. Since I found out Stevie blocked my number, I've spent more time here than I normally would.

Trying to blow off the steam building up inside me. Each swing is a release for the pent-up anger and anxiety flowing through my veins.

I don't handle abandonment very well. Not that my parents left me of their own will, but it still fucked me up in more ways than one to lose them.

The sound of metal crunching and glass shattering is music to my ears.

As I swing the hammer, thoughts of Stevie fill my head. Her face, her eyes, the way she looked at me when she realized I scared her precious Will off. She may have been reaming me out, but she fucking wanted me that night. With every word she spit, I could see the truth of how she felt reflecting in her eyes. Lust, longing, and need.

All fucking wild and carnal like mine.

She didn't even have to tell me she hasn't given in to temptation since her last move in our little game. She hasn't struck a match other than to light one of those deadly cancer sticks she insists on fucking inhaling.

No, my girl, she's been holding out. Good.

After all, it is my turn. My move.

I can see her so fucking clearly, standing in front of me, defiant and angry. The vision makes me swing harder, the car buckling under the force, the fear of fucking losing the one person that might actually fucking understand me.

I can't let her slip away. Not now, not ever.

By the time I'm done, the car is a mangled mess, and my muscles are fucking burning. But I feel a bit better and more focused. My plan is set. All I need now is for the night to fall; then, it's game on.

The next morning, I wake up in my car, the events of the last night still fresh in my mind. I stretch, my muscles stiff from the awkward position I apparently passed out in. My phone buzzes again on the seat next to me. Another message from Greyson.

G: Meet me at Soul Of Bayou

Closing his message, I scroll through my inbox, finding no new messages from Stevie. Fuck.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Granted, it's still early as fuck, but the anticipation is killing me. Soul Of Bayou is a small shit hole restaurant on the edge of the bayou. Our parents started bringing us here when we were kids, and we quickly learned that Josie makes the best gumbo in New Orleans. We've been coming back since. It's nostalgic, especially for me. Filled with memories of the parents I lost so many years ago.

When I arrive at the restaurant, Greyson is already there, sitting at our usual table. He looks up as I walk in, his expression a mix of anger and concern but still a touch of humor.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asks as soon as I sit down.

I shrug. "I needed to get her attention."

"By setting her shop on fire?" He laughs, "Well shit, I knew you were crazy but fuck. That's fucking bold. You're a crazy fucker, Lennox Arecenaux."

"Maybe," I admit, "But what else could I do," I shrug. "She blocked me. She's trying to fucking ghost me, I had to do something to get her fucking attention."

Greyson leans back in his chair, crossing his arms across his wide chest. "And how are you so sure she'll know it was you? I mean, maybe it's just a random fire. A faulty wire or some shit,"

"Nah, I left her a little message. One that will make sure she knows who was responsible,"

Greyson laughs deeply as he shakes his head, "Fucking hell," He lifts his beer to his lips, taking a sip.

"And I didn't burn the whole shop down. I just burnt a little message into her wall. No harm done," I reply as a smirk forms on my lips.

"Just when I think I'm the crazy one of us two, you go do some fucked up shit that makes me second guess shit. I mean it's fucked enough that you have this sick goddamn obsesstion with the shit that killed your parents, but now making it a game with this girl. Shit, we're more alike that I thought," he laughs, as he cheers me.

I don't reply. Instead I lift my beer to my lips and swallow down the bitter liquid. He's not wrong. Fire did kill parents and my obsession with it is fucked up. But I can't control what gets me going. I can't change who I am, despite what others may think. It's why keeping Stevie is so fucking important, because no other woman is going to understand me on the levels that she can.

That she does.

Josie slowly makes her way over, setting a bowl of gumbo in front of each of us. "Do I smell tension?" she asks sarcastically.

"Nah, you know us, Josie. We're all good here," Greyson replies as he picks up his spoon.

"Mhmm, you boys always did have a knack for trouble," she adds, shaking her head with a smile. "But if you say you're fine, I suppose I'll accept it,"

I manage a small smile in return, but it doesn't reach my eyes. I pick up my spoon and start eating, knowing if Josie catches us letting her precious gumbo get cold, we're in for a whooping.

The familiar taste brings a brief moment of comfort.

Greyson sighs. "So whats the next move?"

"Now, I go for what I want, and I make it mine," I say quietly, keeping my tone low so only Greyson can hear me, "And I want her."

"So this little game of taking turns burning down the Quarter is how you show eachother that you want eachother?" He laughs, "Burning down a building like it's nothing, is your way of swiping left?"

He mocks playfully.

"Shit, I guess so," I reply coyly. "But it's all good, it won't be long now till we're done swiping and she's in my dms, begging for a second date."

The anticipation of waiting for her reaction is enough to kill me. I want so badly to call her, or shoot her a message but I know I can't. All I can do is wait and see what happens next.

Wait and see how my lil spark responds. I know by now Stevie has seen the message I left her, and she'll have put all the little clues together.

She'll know who I am.

But there will be no ways she can ignore me now. Not anymore.