I arrived in Tampa looking for a fresh start. I had just gotten out of my second toxic relationship in a row. I seem to be an expert at attracting troubled women and seemed to be destined to live a lonely and turbulent life. Despite feeling newfound freedom from the second toxic girlfriend in a row I was also lonely and horny. Fortunately one problem that I didn't have was money. I had been a successful entrepreneur and made big bucks in selling my company at the ripe old age of 33, and now primarily was a hands-on philanthropist working for many worthwhile causes. I was staying in a hotel until I could locate a suitable property to buy.
I had travelled to Tampa from Jacksonville not only because things that I had read and otherwise found out about the city were intriguing, including extremely worthwhile philanthropic endeavors, but also because I still had unresolved issues with my second-to-last ex. Bridgett Swanson - the name I knew her by - was beautiful and charming, but I found out after only six months with her that she was a gold-digger; actually more than that; she was a con artist and bookie (or at least her boyfriend - who I never knew about until later - was). While she may have had some feelings for me, they were definitely shallow. I caught her cheating and stealing and booted her out.
After I booted Bridgett I found out that she had stolen about $25,000 worth of jewelry from me. I got an arrest warrant issued for her as well as a default civil judgment. I carried the arrest warrant with me along with a fake bounty hunter's certification from the state of Florida. I had gotten information from a private investigator that Bridget, under another name, had set up shop in Tampa and being a hands-on guy with a concealed carry permit in Florida I wanted some retribution.
Since I had not yet used the information I had to track Bridgett down, imagine my surprise when on only the third night of my arrival in Tampa as I was simply walking from my hotel to a local restaurant I ran into my second-to-last criminal ex Bridgett. I followed her to a fairly secluded part of a downtown street near the Lightning's hockey arena and then confronted her.
"Hi Bridgett darling," I smirked.
She tried to get away but I was on her like stink on shit and forcefully restrained her. "Let go of me now or I'll scream," she yelped.
"Go ahead, sweetie," I snarled. "I have a copy of your arrest warrant and a copy of my bounty hunter's license in my sport jacket pocket. If you scream we'll just wait here until the cops arrive at which point you'll go to jail now with no hope of escape. If you come with me to talk who knows - we might be able to work something out. You know that hope burns eternal in the human bosom."
I really wish that Bridgett wasn't so good looking because my cock betrayed me and saluted, and even more importantly I wish that I wasn't a gentleman; I would have loved to smack her around for cheating on, and stealing from, me.
She knew by the determined look in my eye that I wasn't fucking around.
"OK," she said. "Where to?"
"Where can you afford to pick up the tab for dinner?" I snickered.
We went to a local version of the Olive Garden - she was cheap besides being slutty - and sat as far away from the rest of the patrons as we could.
Once we sat down - with her further from the door than I was so that I could prevent her escape should she try it - I showed her the real arrest warrant, my real civil judgment, and my fake bounty hunter's certification.
"Why in the hell did you get a bounty hunter's certification," she snickered. "You run out of money?"
"No, I have plenty of money, no thanks to you," I snickered back. "I got it only because as you know I'm a hands-on guy and I wanted to legitimately be able to bring you in on the arrest warrant should the possibility arise."
We ordered dinner - no alcohol for me but she needed a stiff drink - then I interrogated her. "OK, here's the information I have about where you live now and with whom," I said. I gave her bullshit information. "Is that right?"
"Yeah - how did you find out?" she replied, lying through her teeth.
"Bridgett, you're not going to get away with your normal lies and cons with me. The information I gave you was bullshit. Get out your identification - all of it - and show it to me."
I could tell that she was selectively rummaging in her large purse so I yanked it away from her and went through it myself. I took photos with my iPhone of all of her cards - even a library card - and her two different driver's licenses, one in the name of Bridgett Swanson, the other in the name of Constance Danner. "Another felony or two Bridgett sweetie," I chuckled. "Which is the real ID, and which is the false I. D.?" I asked.
She didn't answer, but sat with her arms crossed.
"I'm sure that you don't have a permit for this COP 4," I continued as a confiscated the exotic four barrel derringer that was in her voluminous purse.
She continued to sit stone faced with her arms folded, but clearly winced when after unloading it I stuck the derringer in a coat pocket, and continued rummaging through her purse.
"OK what is your real address - and you better tell me the truth because we're going there after our reunion dinner, and if I find out that you lied to me things will be bad for you, and whatever low-life you're living with now," I seriously stated. I took that opportunity to expose the gun in my shoulder holster to her.
The address she gave me was a condo in Ybor City which seemed legit but that I would find out about for sure later than evening.
After that we actually chatted like two old friends while we ate dinner, had dessert, and coffee. I mostly told her the truth about my life, although I doubt that she was truthful with me (especially "I regret cheating on you Blake; I should have known a good thing when I had it"). She especially liked the fact that when I told her about my most recent ex that it was clear that she was a significantly more treacherous bitch than Bridgett was - although thankfully not a criminal.
Bridgett reluctantly paid with a credit card - one of her pieces of her IDs that I had taken a photo of - and I was pleased to see that it wasn't declined. As we exited the restaurant I clicked a pair of handcuffs onto her right wrist and my left one. "What's that for?" she snarled.
"I don't want any possibility of getting separated from my previous true love until we get to your abode - I told you that I'd be checking it out," I chuckled.
We were basically silent in the taxi on the way to her condo. I guess she really did live in Ybor City because she had a key that actually opened the front door. I drew my Browning P-35 Hi-Power handgun (I like exotic guns too) in case Bridgett's boyfriend was around - I knew she must have one even though she denied it. "I told you that I live alone," she snapped when she saw my drawn P-35.
"You also told me that you loved me, so forgive me if I'm not entirely sold on your honesty," I snapped back.
After going through all the rooms on both floors of her small condo, and not only finding no one, but no evidence that there was someone living there besides her, I holstered the P-35. "Let's sit down and talk about how you're going to make things right with me Bridgett dear," I said, pointing to a small couch.
"Are you going to give me my gun back?" she snipped.
"Probably not - but we can negotiate almost anything that you would like."
