by Andi Van
It was the urgency behind Jordan’s tone that convinced me. Something was wrong. Really wrong. “I’m awake,” I grunted.
“We both are,” Marcus growled. “What the fuck, man?”
The bedroom door opened, and I squinted as the light from the hall poured into the room. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that Jordan looked frantic.
“What happened?” I asked, suddenly wide awake.
“You need to get dressed,” Jordan said. “No one’s hurt, but someone’s gotten a hold of your car. I’ve just called the police, and you’ll need to be awake when they get here.”
“What the fuck?” I shouted, making an attempt to leap out of bed, only to land face-first on the floor when the blankets got tangled around my legs. “What happened to my car?”
Don’t get me wrong, my car wasn’t really anything special. It was just a gently used Nissan that I’d paid off the year before, but it was mine, and the thought of someone doing something to it made me feel violated.
Marcus climbed out of bed and helped me to my feet. “I’ll have him out in a minute,” he told Jordan. “Start some tea for him, will you? He’ll need it.”
Jordan nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. When he was gone, Marcus focused on me. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “Whatever it is, your insurance will take care of it. Until it’s fixed, we can work out a schedule for people to give you rides to and from work. We don’t even know what happened to it. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“If it was nothing, Jordan wouldn’t have pounded on our door,” I pointed out. It occurred to me that I’d referred to it as “our” door and not “my” door, but it sounded right, so I wasn’t going to make an issue of it. Maybe when I wasn’t in the middle of panicking, I’d do some mental squealing over it. But that wasn’t the time.
“Maybe. But for now we need to get dressed. We’ll see what happens from there.”
What happened from there involved me stepping outside and practically having a nervous breakdown. With all the outside lights on, it was plain to see that all of my tires were flat. Even more obvious was the spray paint on the side of my car that read “you can’t have him.” My windshield had the word “die” smeared onto it with what I hoped was mud. But I knew deep down that it was probably something far more disgusting.
Marcus and Jordan had to pull me up off of my knees and drag me back into the house. When the police finally arrived, I was in the kitchen, my pajama pants pulled up above my knees so Marcus could finish bandaging up the damage I’d done when I dropped onto the brick outside the front door. When they asked if we had any idea who would want to send me a warning like that, I rolled my eyes. Obviously, the shock was wearing off.
“My ex,” Marcus said immediately. “Davis Vincent. You’ll find he has a record, since he’s already attacked Zach once.”
I gave him an odd look. It was weird to hear him calling me Zach and not Ollie, but I assumed that he didn’t want to have to explain who he was talking about to the cops. I added, “And if he listens to the show or knows anyone who listens to the show, Marcus did just kind of shout to the world how he feels about me. Considering that the last time we met he informed Marcus that their relationship wasn’t over, that might incite him to do something like this.”
“Yeah, I heard,” one of the policemen said with a grin, surprising me. Somehow I never expected people to actually have listened to our show. “The morning DJ made a point of describing what happened after the song started, once she was on the air. I bet you’re going to have some disgruntled fans who were hoping to be in Marcus’s place, though, so that’s something to consider.”
“God, that makes me feel like I should be watching for stalkers,” I groaned, shivering a little at the thought. “It could have been anyone, with that logic. Hell, it could be Marcus’s sister.”
Marcus went still and looked at me. “Why do you think it’s my sister?”
“I don’t, really,” I assured him. “She’s psycho, but why would she care if you and I are together? She’s already got what she wanted.”
“Except she did scream about something being all my fault,” Marcus said slowly and bit his thumbnail.
Jordan snorted and shook his head. “No, man. From what I’ve heard and seen, she was probably blaming you for something that had nothing to do with you.”
“Anyway,” I interrupted, turning my attention back to the two policemen, “Davis Vincent is a very good place to start. He got a slap on the wrist and was released, basically, so we know he’s out there somewhere. And a guy like that tends to give zero fucks about a restraining order. In the meantime, I’ll call my insurance and see how much I have to pay out to do something about the spray paint and see if I can get them to pay for new tires, on top of everything else.”
“I’m not sure we’ll have much to go on,” one of the officers cautioned, “but we’ll see what we can do.” He didn’t look happy about it, but we all knew it was the truth. That sort of vandalism was a pretty common thing, sadly enough, and unless someone was stupid enough to brag about it on a social media platform, they’d probably get away with it.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I know how it goes. But if you guys go ask Davis where he was, it’ll shake him up a little. If it was him, maybe he’ll be more inclined to leave us alone. I don’t know.”
“What, you think me having to throw him down knocked his common sense loose or something?” Jordan asked sarcastically, his tone practically screaming that he thought I was being an idiot. “I seriously doubt he’d be inclined to leave you alone if he was a party to this. He’d just get more pissed off because you sent someone after him.”
“Whatever,” I growled, feeling less sociable by the second. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to call the insurance company, try to find a ride to the station, and get ready for work.” With a nod to the officers, I turned and limped down the hallway. My knees throbbed with it, but I didn’t care.
I tried to slam my bedroom door shut behind me, but I heard the muffled thump of a hand catching hold of it before it could close. “Are you okay?”
I sighed, at once grateful as hell that my boyfriend cared enough to come after me and wishing I could have a moment to wallow by myself. “Honestly?” I asked. “No. I will be, but I’m not at the moment.”
Marcus wrapped his warm arms around me, and I felt him rest his head against the back of my neck. “It’ll work out,” he promised, his tone soft and soothing. “I’m sorry if I brought this on you.”
I turned in Marcus’s arms and glared at him. “If I have to deal with Davis to have you, then it’s worth it,” I said fiercely. “We love each other. Nothing else matters, as far as I’m concerned.”
He just smiled at me, and that’s when it struck me—it really was worth it. The tension and anger started to drain away, and I rested my head on Marcus’s shoulder, trying not to cry. “Someone spray painted my car,” I whined at him, sniffling a little.
“I know,” he said, rubbing my back.
“And they slashed my tires,” I added.
“They did,” Marcus agreed.
“And they wrote ‘die’ on my windshield with something incredibly foul,” I concluded.
Marcus was shaking a little, like he was trying not to giggle. “It’ll wash off,” he promised.
“But you love me,” I said and turned my head to look up at him.
“I do,” he told me, caressing the side of my face with one of his warm, gentle hands. “And you love me. So much that sometimes I don’t know how you can carry so much love inside you and not explode.”
I sniffled again and willed myself not to cry. Damn the man for making my eyes try to leak. He was far too good at that. “I’ll do my best not to explode. That would be messy.”
“And gross,” Marcus said. “Feeling a little better?”
“Not yet, but I’ll get there,” I promised. “I feel kind of violated.”
“Well, yeah,” Marcus said, the �
�duh” implied. “Someone messed with your property in a nasty way. Of course you’re going to feel violated.” He kissed the tip of my nose and smiled the smile that always made me feel like I was going to melt. “I don’t have work tonight, so I’m going to drive you to the station and pick you up. Ask Kat if she’d mind picking you up on her way in tomorrow. If she can’t, Jordan would probably drive you there. I can pick you up when you get off work.”
“You don’t mind?” I asked, hating how pathetic I sounded. But hey, everyone needs reassurance once in a while, and that was my moment for it.
Marcus rolled his eyes and popped me on the back of the head. “Don’t be a dumbass. Call your insurance company and get ready for work. I’ll go make you some more tea.”
KAT GAVE me crap the moment I stepped into the office with Marcus right beside me, but I expected that.
“Can’t stand to be apart now, huh?” she asked, taking her drink from me.
“I had to get a ride from him,” I said with a shrug. “Someone took a knife to my tires and spray-painted ominous words on my car.”
“And smeared a threat on his windshield with shit,” Marcus added. “Literally.”
Whatever I expected from her, it wasn’t the litany of rage-filled profanity that issued from her mouth. She turned on her heel and stomped to the other side of the studio where the boss’s office was, still swearing. That couldn’t be good.
“Wow.” Marcus looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Do you need me to stay to protect you from her?”
“I don’t think it’s me she’s mad at,” I answered. “I’ll be fine, but thanks for offering.”
He kissed me on the cheek and hugged me close for a second. “I’m picking you up after work,” he reminded me. “Just… don’t decide to walk home or something, if I don’t get here before you’re off work. Please?”
I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed the worry and fear hiding in his eyes, but there it was. He was scared for me, and the fact that someone had made him feel that way made me want to find the party responsible and tear them apart. I was upset about my car, sure, but for them to make Marcus scared of me walking home in broad daylight? That was inexcusable. “I promise,” I said softly. “I’ll wait for you.”
His mouth quirked. “You will, huh?”
And suddenly I had the feeling we weren’t talking about me waiting for him to pick me up from work. “Always,” I said with a smile.
If the way his face lit up was any indication, I’d given him the right answer. He planted another quick kiss on my cheek and then left, his face still glowing as he walked out the door.
“Marcus already leave?”
I practically jumped out of my skin and wheeled around to see Kat standing behind me. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” she said with a shrug. “Hey, I want to mention this on air. Because people should know, and they should know we aren’t going to put up with anyone giving you shit.”
“Which is just going to tell the fucker that did it that he’s gotten to me,” I protested. “Or it’ll piss him off worse, and he’ll set my car on fire, next time. I don’t need that. Marcus doesn’t need that. He’s already worried about me.”
“And staying quiet about it might make the culprit think that you’re scared,” Kat shot back. “And I already spoke to the boss about it. He agrees with me.”
“And if I don’t?” I was shouting now, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Jesus H. Christ, Kat. If it puts Marcus in danger, I’ll never fucking forgive you, you know that? I’ll be such a fucking dickhead to you that you’ll have to fucking quit just to keep from fucking going to jail for my fucking murder.”
Kat’s mouth twitched. “That’s a lot of fucking.”
I didn’t want to be amused. Really I didn’t. But I could feel myself starting to grin before I was able to stop it. “But not with me, because I don’t ever want near your girly bits, thank you very much.” The smile dropped off my face and I sighed. “I’m serious, Kat. If Marcus gets hurt….”
“What about you?” she asked. “We need to protect you too, man. You may be kind of an asshole, but you’re not just the guy I do some radio show with. You’re my friend, and it’s not like I have a ton of those. I’m too much of a bitch for that.”
I blinked—I would absolutely never admit that I was blinking to keep back tears, because she’d never let me forget that she’d made me cry—and nodded. “Tell me what you plan on saying.”
It wasn’t as bad as I thought. By the time we came up with something we both agreed to, Kat ended up just mentioning what happened, commenting about how it was all kinds of fucked up that someone would follow up a confession of love by destroying property, and making a thinly veiled threat in regard to fans taking things too far. The nice part was that, by the time the show was over, we were getting calls from listeners who expressed complete horror over what had happened.
Even with the support, though, I was glad when we went off the air. The whole fucking thing was stressful, and I didn’t want to deal with it.
Which meant that when the brick went through the glass doors at the front of our studio, I was less than thrilled.
Kat and I were about to head for lunch—I didn’t bring one and, of course, I hadn’t thought of that when Marcus asked me not to walk anywhere—when the glass burst in and the brick slid across the floor to rest at our feet.
“What the fucking fuck?” I yelled and waved my arms in a futile gesture of rage as Kat darted out the door, presumably to try to catch the guy. The rest of the studio came running. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you psycho son of a bitch.”
“Better call for delivery,” my boss said. “You’ll need to be here when the cops arrive.”
“Of course.” Yeah, I was still yelling. “Of fucking course. I can’t have a fucking normal life anymore because my boyfriend’s fucking ex-boyfriend is a fucking fuckhead.”
“Again with the oral sex,” Kat chastised me. “So much fucking.” She shrugged and motioned toward the door. “Your secret admirer was gone by the time I got out there.”
Unlike the last time, I was not soothed by humor. “I’m calling my fucking boyfriend and asking him to stay the fuck home,” I said, pointing at her. “And you’re driving me the fuck home after work, since telling the fucking world what happened was your fucking idea.”
She saluted me, which made me grit my teeth. “Yes sir. Now tell me what you want for lunch, so I can go order it.”
WHEN I got home, Marcus was waiting on the front step of the house, and I had to bite back the urge to roll down the window and tell him to get the fuck back inside. He probably wouldn’t have appreciated being yelled at. Instead, I grunted a good-bye to Kat and stormed to the front steps. Marcus stood as I approached, shoved open the front door, and pulled me inside. The moment he had the door shut and bolted, he had me in his arms, and that’s when I realized he was shaking.
“I’m all right,” I mumbled into his neck as I hugged him tightly.
“You could have been hurt,” he whispered against my hair. “This is getting worse. It has to stop.”
“I know.” And I did know. If things had escalated overnight from threatening messages spray-painted on my car to having bricks thrown at me, even indirectly, that wasn’t a good sign. Things would quite likely move up to actual physical harm.
I didn’t bring that up, though. Instead, I deflected. “Come on,” I said, nuzzling against his ear. “Let’s go curl up in my bed for a while and watch a movie or something.” Because God knew I needed to be held right then. That was certain. I needed to know we were both fine.
Marcus nodded and pulled away to take my hand. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He led me down the hall to my bedroom, and for a few hours, everything was right in the world.
CHAPTER 14
“HUH, IT matches.”
I looked to the back of our booth at the arts festival to see Marcus staring at his cotton candy and plu
cking pieces of it. He’d pretty much been in his own private heaven since the moment we got there, what with all the sugary fair food.
“What matches?” I asked, smiling at him. God, he was so adorable when he was like that.
He stood up and sauntered across the space, the cotton candy in his hand. When he got up next to me, he held it up, and eyed it and then my hair. “Yeah. It matches.”
He plucked another piece off, and this time, offered it to me. I opened my mouth and let him feed me with his sticky fingers. “I guess it does,” I agreed as the sugar melted in my mouth. “Think I should change the color?”
“Nah,” Marcus said. He gave me a teasing grin as he flicked a lock of my hair. I’d probably have to wash sugar out of it when we got home, but that was okay. “Suits your sweet personality.”
“Oh gag me,” Kat said with a snort. “You two turn my stomach sometimes.”
“Come on. It’s cute,” her boyfriend, Erik said. “And it’s nice to see Zach so happy.”
“It’s weird,” Kat countered.
“You’re weird,” I shot back as Marcus fed me another bit of fluff.
“He’s got you there,” Erik said with a grin.
“No nookie for you tonight,” Kat told him and pointed a finger.
“Truth hurts,” Marcus stage-whispered to me. Then he ducked out of Kat’s reach and hid behind Erik. “Erik, your girlfriend’s trying to beat me. Make her stop,” he whined.
I was glad to see him comfortable around Kat’s boyfriend. When we showed up that morning, Marcus hadn’t known what to make of him. Erik is built kind of like my father—tall, wide, and sort of scary. When Marcus found out that Erik worked at his mother’s quilt shop, however, he relaxed visibly. I couldn’t really blame him for that. It was admittedly difficult to picture a bad guy voluntarily selling fabric all day.
“You know,” I said as Marcus continued to peek out at Kat from behind her boyfriend, “they’ve got a Ferris wheel set up.”
Marcus stopped dodging Kat and looked at me. “Yeah?” he asked hopefully. “What are you suggesting?”