“Then keep me outta trouble by gettin’ some folks here to deal with this assclown before I lose it and do it myself,” he said gently.
I held his eyes then I nodded.
Then I ran into the house, dialed nine-one-one, told them what was happening then I called Gray.
He answered with, “Hey dollface. Remember something you need?
“Buddy’s here,” I replied. “He brought my father with him. He said a few things my father didn’t like and now my father has him pinned in the snow in the front yard.”
Silence then, “Say again?”
“Buddy’s here,” I started. “He brought my –”
Gray cut me off to rumble, “You are fuckin’ shittin’ me.”
“No,” I whispered.
“You are fuckin’ shittin’ me!” Gray roared.
Oh God!
“Honey, are you driving?” I asked carefully, reminding myself again to tread cautiously and not get lulled into stupidity by the usually easygoing Grayson Cody.
A moment while I suspected he deep-breathed then, “Yeah, on the way to Gran. I’ll be there in ten. You call the police?”
“Yes.”
Then I got, “This man, is he really your father?”
“Well, I can’t be sure but he’s got my hair, he said I was beautiful, he knew my Mom’s name and when Buddy called me a slut, he took him down in, like, a nanosecond.”
More silence and I didn’t get the same seriously unhappy vibes traveling over the airwaves that I did when I first shared my news so I didn’t know what this one meant.
Then I knew when Gray’s voice came on a vibrating, “He called you a slut?”
Okay.
Again.
Tread cautiously, Ivey!
“Gray –”
He cut me off. “You feel danger from this man, your father?”
“No.”
“Right. You get your fuckin’ baseball bat, you lock all the fuckin’ doors, not in that order, and you stay the fuck inside until I get there. Not the cops, me. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Gray,” I agreed as I moved to the front door.
“Do it now. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay, baby.”
“I’m done with this guy,” he whispered.
Shit!
“Honey, please stay calm.”
“I’m done,” he was still whispering and he was also gone.
Shit!
I locked the door then I ran to the backdoor and locked that then I ran upstairs and got my baseball bat (well, it was Gray’s, I didn’t have one anymore) then I ran back downstairs to the living room where there was a window where I could see Buddy Sharp and Hoot Booker in the snow.
Their positions hadn’t changed.
I twisted the window latch, crouched low, shoved the window up an inch and called out, “Uh…sorry if you heard the lock turn. No offense but my man isn’t real comfortable with me being alone here with a man he doesn’t know and Buddy.”
Hoot Booker’s head was up, he was looking at me through the window and he was smiling a huge, white, wild-ass smile.
“See you found yourself a decent man,” he remarked, still casually holding Buddy in the snow.
“Uh…yeah. He’s great.” I was still calling out the crack of a window.
“Good news, girl,” he replied.
“I, uh, also called the police. They know about Buddy so they’ll probably be here really soon,” I told him.
“More good news,” he said.
“Fuckin’ let me up!” Buddy shouted, still struggling against Hoot’s hold, snow flying all around but Hoot ignored him and kept his eyes on me.
“So, you live here long?” he asked conversationally and I again couldn’t control the giggle.
When I controlled it, I answered.
“Just over six months but Gray and I’ve known each other for over seven years,” I told him, decided, considering he seemed willing and able to dole out justice for me, I would leave out the history and Buddy’s place in it and finished, “It’s a long story.”
“Gray?” he asked.
“Gray, uh…Grayson Cody. That’s my man’s name.”
“Fuckin’ hell, I get from the dude ranch I’m on he’s a cowboy but, Christ. Grayson Cody? That’s like the most cowboy a name can get.”
I giggled again.
Yep, this was totally my Dad.
“Let…me…up!” Buddy shrieked and Hoot looked back down at him.
“Your car, your clothes, your house, chief, I get you think you’ll get whatever you want but, clue in, right now is not one of those times,” he stated.
“Fuck you,” Buddy spat.
“Lotsa money,” Hoot Booker muttered, still looking down at Buddy, “no class.”