I should leave this alone, put it out of my mind, but the look of fear in Lacy’s eyes when he grabbed her arm stays with me as the three ladies leave the bar.
I empty the last of my beer and place the glass on the counter, walk out, and scan the street for the redhead. Lacy is bending down to get into the passenger seat of a Toyota Corolla, and Patti gets into the driver’s seat, with Jules getting into another car behind them.
They did keep their word, but something about that guy tells me he didn’t go home to lick his wounds. I’ve known more than my fair share like him, and I’d put money on him not giving up so easily tonight.
I hit the fob on my car, and the lights and engine start. I walk across the street, get in, flip around, and follow the ladies to a little wood-framed house on the outskirts of town.
I keep coasting as they pull into the driveway to avoid drawing attention to myself. I drive around the block, park a way down the road from her house, and watch as she gets out of the car, goes in and the lights come on. I’d bet any amount of money that bastard comes back around.
Three hours later, I watch a big black truck pull into her driveway, and the same son of a bitch walks right up to her door and rattles the knob like he’s going to walk right in. He slams the palm of his hand into it instead when it doesn’t open. I open the door of my car and get out quietly.
The lights come on, and a bang on the door comes from the inside. “Go home, Jake. This house isn’t for sale, and neither am I,” I hear as I get closer, staying within the shadows of the trees to provide cover.
He hits the door again, this time with his fist. “Open the fucking door, Lacy, before I bust it in again,” he says, but that’s the last threat he’s going to make tonight because I put the end of my Glock into the back of his head. “The lady said go home. I’d take her up on that offer while you still have two legs to stand on.”
Jake turns, and his eyes look bloodshot and hazy underneath the outdoor light fixture. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You know who I am?” he slurs, while the aroma of soured whiskey wafts through the air.
I narrow my eyes at the man who’s not only messing with the lady but has robbed me of sleep and getting on my last nerve. “You’re the man I caught manhandling Lacy earlier, threatening her and are now trying to break into her home. I’d say that makes you a son of a bitch who is going to turn around, get in the truck of yours, and get out of here before I decide to play vigilante sheriff,” I say, keeping my aim steady as he stares down the short end of my barrel.
Jake glares at me. “What the fuck business is this of yours?”
Good question; one I’ve been thinking for a while. “Let’s just say I don’t like assholes like you.”
His jaw locks tight, and he sways all the way back to his truck and gets in, lays on the gas, peels out backward, and blazes down the street. I give the house a onceover. If I hadn’t stopped by, he could have easily busted that door down, lock or not. I see the curtain shift slightly and walk back to my car, pull it into the driveway, set my alarm, and settle in for the night.
It’s almost two hours later when the distinct sound of that muffler comes rumbling down the road. The truck keeps right on moving after seeing my car in the drive but tells me exactly how determined this fucker is to get what he wants. And for some reason, Lacy’s safety has now become my business right along with the business that brought me here in the first place.
Welcome to Deadwood.