Ethan frowned. “Fuck it. They’ll go away.”
It rang again. And again. Like a teenager was going to town on it.
Anger flashed across his features and he picked up his phone. “I’ll check the security cameras.” He tapped at his phone. “It’s some delivery-looking guy, but I don’t see a package. Be right back.”
He left the room and a stone sank in my stomach. I don’t know why but I just felt like something was … off. Who delivered shit on Christmas? Pulling back on my underwear, I trailed after him, my oversized t-shirt barely covering my ass.
“Be careful!” I shouted to him.
He was already downstairs and I was trying to catch up. Did Bryce know I was here? Did he send a hit man? I was completely paranoid.
Ethan nodded and then opened the door cautiously. “What the fuck, bro? It’s Christmas and you’re ringing my door bell like a cop,” I heard him say just as I peered over his shoulder to see a man in a delivery outfit. I wasn’t concerned with the guy, no, my eyes went behind him to what was on his truck.
My Audi.
With the slight scrape of the left rim when I’d curbed it at a Starbucks drive through. That was the last time Bryce hit me. Over scraping my rim by accident.
“Sorry, man. This guy paid me a thousand bucks to make sure his girl gets her car today. Even left her a note.”
Ethan looked confused for a second.
“It’s from Bryce,” I croaked.
Ethan’s gaze sharpened on the man. “Return the vehicle. It was sent by her stalker.”
The guy paled. “What? I got no return address, man. I can’t return it.”
“Give me the note,” I rasped—he’d said there was a note.
The guy slowly pulled a thick white card from under his clipboard. With shaking hands, I opened it and allowed Ethan to read over my shoulder.
Merry Christmas. I miss your cranberry stuffing. Please come home.
-B
I stood there at a complete and total loss for words.
What the actual fuck was going on? How did Bryce know I was here? Why the hell did he think sending me this was okay? He was more mentally ill than I previously thought.
Ethan turned to me slowly. “Hailey, I want you to call the police. From now on we are going to report everything.”
I frowned. “It’s Christmas, your party is in two hours.”
“Call the police please,” he told me, and slipped outside to talk to the guy, shutting the door behind him.
I sighed. This was not how I wanted to spend my first Christmas with Ethan, and somehow I think Bryce planned that. He was watching my every move.
* * *
“I thinkthat’s about all, ma’am. Sorry we couldn’t be of more help.” The officer tipped his hat in my direction.
After I’d called the police, I’d bolted upstairs to put some clothes on and slick my hair into a ponytail. Even going as far as throwing on some red lipstick and mascara. I’d wanted to look decent for the police statement.
“Thank you, Officers.”
Ethan and I walked the policemen out while I replayed their reaction to my statement in my head.
They’d looked incredulously at me. “Your ex-husband is trying to give you your Audi back that you lost in the divorce, and you don’t want it?”
