Page 9 of My Brother’s Locksmith Friend

Halo’s smile beams. “Ooh, who is Havana?”

I can’t help but match her smile. “Havana’s everything to me.”

“Does she know what that means coming from a Haven boy?” Halo asks, resting her head against Hayden who kisses the top of her head gently.

“She doesn’t,” I admit. “But she will.”

“You know what this Roy guy looks like?” Hayden asks.

I shake my head. “No, nothing recent, but he’s running his plumbing business off a place on the corner of Madden and Reading Road.”

Hayden nods. “Okay, I’ll run a few checks and see what pops up. If I get a picture, maybe I can get my hands on him before you do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do to the guy?” I chuckle.

“The same thing I’d do if someone like that was messing with Halo. Last thing I’d want to do is bail my baby brother out of jail.”

“No need. I just want to have a talk with him. Honest.”

6

HAVANA

While I’d already wiped Hendrix off me, I’m in desperate need of a shower. I decide to take a nice long one with the hope of Hendrix coming by just as I’m getting out. Surely, we’ll have to finish what we’ve started earlier.

The water is hot enough, but the pressure is sputtering out droplets. Memories flash of Roy tinkering around in here, but my mind can’t remember exactly what he said he did. Did he do anything?

When I reach up to adjust the spray, the entire thing comes off, and water splashes everywhere. I immediately move to shut the water off, but when I turn them to the off position, it falls into the tub and the water is still gushing out of the shower.

I’m soaking wet and not in a good way as I move out of the tub and to my phone. My first instinct is to call Lucille, but all she’ll do is call Roy. I don’t want him in my apartment ever again. I’ll call Hendrix, and hopefully, he knows a good plumber.

The phone barely rings twice when he answers. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hendrix,” I squeal into the line, unable to hide the increasing panic in my voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. I hear him moving, undoubtedly making his way to me.

“The shower head came off, and I can’t shut the water off. There’s water spilling everywhere. I don’t want to have to call Lucille or Roy,” my words rush out in a single breath.

“Don’t panic, baby girl. I’m on the way. As long as the drain is still working, you should be fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says before hanging up.

Sure enough to his word, Hendrix knocks on my door seven minutes later. His hair is pushed out of his face as I back up to let him inside the apartment. He brings his own massive toolkit with him into the bathroom where water’s still gushing.

I watch Hendrix strip out of his shirt and move into my bathroom with a huge wrench. There are a bunch of noises, with Hendrix cursing in between grunts. A few minutes and gallons of water later, he emerges from my bathroom with a grimace and his jeans thoroughly soaking wet.

“I could put you in a calendar just like this,” I smile, approaching him and running a finger down his soaking wet chest.

“You could, but I’d rather put Roy in a barrel and sink him in the nearest ocean.”

I can tell he’s upset, and he has a right to be after fighting my bathroom for the better half of an hour. I begin to put down towels to soak up the water on the floor and turn to him, saying, “I can throw those in the wash if you like…unless you want to spend the night soaking wet.”

His anger subsides as he takes me in from head to toe. Hendrix moves closer to me, inching me back until I stop against the wall. “I’d rather spend the night inside you soaking wet. Throw some things in a bag, baby girl. You’re coming home with me.”

I don’t ask any questions, moving through my bedroom at lightning speed to put some clothes together. I peek over my shoulder, wondering if he’s watching me, but he’s not. One of the few things I managed to afford from the boutique I worked for was a silk babydoll negligee.

There’s no way to know if it’s going to be useful, but maybe Hendrix will like it. Or at the very least, he’ll like taking it off. After I stuff a few essential things in a bag, I look at the bathroom. The entire floor is wet and the towels are full enough. I toss them into a trash can, but Hendrix already has the mop in his hand.

When he finishes cleaning up the bathroom, he takes the bag from my hand and gives me his keys, saying, “Can you start my truck, baby girl? I have a feeling Roy’s going to be making an appearance tonight.”

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