“I’ve got to check on a client’s property first thing in the morning, so it will probably be around 9:30.” He is looking at the lock on the front door as we plan.
“Yeah, that lock needs be redone— well, they all do,” I explain. I hear her sputter, and then clear her throat.
“Uh, excuse me shouldn’t you be consulting with me— the homeowner, before you start drilling into walls and changing locks.” Her hands are on her hips and she is glaring. I hear Holt chuckle as he zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder.
“I’ll bring over a couple of new locks too and Carter will swing by to check that e-mail—see you in the morning.” Before I can respond, he is already out the door. The asshole is too smart. He wasn’t going to stick around for this.
Her caramel colored eyes are flashing and they remind me of whiskey. Before I can open my mouth to respond. She shuffles off to the kitchen. She is shaking her head and muttering while she puts things away and packs up the leftovers.
“Look, I thought we talked about this before,” I start to try to justify the steps we are taking to make the house safer. She nods jerkily and then sighs.
“ I know you did, it is just a lot in 24 hours— I’m trying to wrap my head around this new situation,” she continues speaking. “I’m not trying to whine, I’m just confused, tired, and I guess cranky.”
I nod in understanding and take a step towards her. She jerks her head up at my approach. In that moment she looks like a startled animal. I remind myself not to spook her. I lift my hands up instinctively.
“Holt and I do this all the time. Again, sometimes we just run on autopilot. Shit could go south fast if we don’t get a handle on it now,” I reason with her. I don’t know what my problem is, I usually could care less about anyone’s feelings. I am studying her movements. I see her shoulders slump a bit.
“It is what it is,” she shrugs and proceeds to wander down the hall to her bedroom. I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen wondering what the hell to do now. Turning around I head to the guest room—and turn on the light.
Chapter 15
Meg
I close my bedroom door and plop down on my bed for a minute. I’m need to get a grip and not be an idiot. This is where in the movie I would be yelling at the female protagonist for being stupid.
Apparently I’m not handling this situation in the way I thought I would. Of course, when does one ever really think they would be in this situation?
Sterling is throwing me off too. He goes from teddy bear to grizzly bear in 3.5 seconds— and I’m not sure what it means. I need to shake off this feeling that he is doing this because of something more than misplaced obligation. He and Holt like to play the hero— that is all. My life is all about managing expectations.
I blame Piper, she is the one putting these ridiculous thoughts in my mind. Sitting up, I decide to put on some pajamas. Pulling on some leggings and an oversized shirt, I jam my feet into slippers and open the door to my bedroom.
Sterling is in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He turns around with another beer in his hand. Twisting the top off he holds it out offering it to me, wordlessly.
I take it— hesitantly. While Sterling may not say much, he is a man of action. Anyone can see that. He turns around and grabs himself one. Taking advantage of his back being turned I swirl around and head into the living room.
Just as I sit down I get a text message. Looking down at my phone, I see it is from an unknown number. A chill goes down my spine. Normally, I wouldn’t think anything of a random number texting me— but now? All of a sudden it feels like the world is closing in on me a bit. I take a deep breath and shake my head. Hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that is building up in my chest.
“What’s wrong,” I jump. I hadn’t heard him follow me. Looking up at him, I mull over my options. Deciding to just be upfront, I plow forward.
“I just got a text from an unknown number, I’m sure it isn’t anything. I haven’t opened it yet, but suddenly this situation got a bit too real for me,” I breathe out.
He grabs my phone and opens it. His face darkens and he gets a dangerous glint in his eye. I go to reach for it and he pulls it away.
“Hey, that is MY phone. I want to see what it says,” I raise my voice and stand up. The trouble is he is a at least a foot taller than me, so every time I go to reach for it I am reminded of the differences in our physicality.
“You don’t need to read this shit,” he huffs out and starts making his way towards the spare bedroom. I follow hot on his heels and see him grab his phone off the nightstand. He quickly taps a few buttons and holds it up to his ear.
“Yeah, it’s escalated to text messages,” he speaks in more of a growl. “We will need Carter to get on this shit ASAP,” he orders and then hangs up.
He looks over at me as I lean in the doorway. I hold out my hand. He looks at it. “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he begrudgingly sets the phone in my outstretched palm.
Taking a deep breath, I look down at the phone. The message is still up on the screen.
You are going to pay you fat bitch.
Ouch.Now they are criticizing my appearance. Great. Trying to hide my discomfort, I fall back on sarcasm.
“They don’t have a very diverse vocabulary. That is like the second time they have called me a bitch,” I joke.
