I jump back with a screech and pace my floor. Did he see me through the blinds? Is that even possible?
Oh my God, I’m acting like I’m still a hormonal teenager. I need to get a grip. I need to be an adult and bite the bullet and just go over to his house and discuss this like a rational person. That’s my intention when I spend the next hour showering and shaving my legs and flat-ironing my hair and agonizing over the perfect perfume.
As it turns out, it’s all for nothing. Because when I finally do work up the courage to go talk to him, I stop short in my driveway. His truck is gone, and so is he.
I sigh and shake my head. This is ridiculous. I’m not this girl. I don’t chase after guys. They’ve always chased after me. It’s always been so easy because I never really had to think about it. Opportunities presented themself, like Scott, and I took them. But Zander is different. Zander is the secret crush I harbored all throughout high school, even while I dated Scott. I was too blinded by my reputation to see what was right in front of me. He’s the one I should have been with all along.
It’s a sobering thought, and it hits me like a slap across the face. So many of my choices have led me to the life I always thought I wanted. The glam and the staged moments of perfection. But I never knew what perfection was until I felt Zander’s lips on mine last night. His hard body caging me in, protecting me, worshipping me.
I want that again, and I don’t care if it means I have to make a fool of myself. As soon as I get a chance, I’m going to lay it all out for Zander. I’m not letting him get away this time.
“Violet?”
I blink out at the street, startled back to reality when I see Scott has pulled up to the curb. He parks his truck like an asshole and squints at me through the open window before jumping out.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “I told you to leave me alone.”
“Violet, come on… don’t be like that.”
“Be like what?” I glare as he takes a couple steps toward me as if he still has that right.
“A bitch,” he spits out. “You’ve blocked my number. You won’t answer my emails. I’ve been patient, but I’m done fucking waiting. You and I need to talk.”
“We have nothing left to talk about.” I point a trembling hand at his truck. “Now please leave before I call the cops.”
“The cops?” He chuckles as if I’d never dare to do that.
“Yes.” I stand my ground and fish my phone out of my pocket. But before I can get the keypad up, Scott is right in front of me, wrapping his fingers around my arm in a punishing grip.
“Put that phone back now,” he sneers.
“Scott, what the hell are you doing?” I try to push him back, but it’s like pushing against a tank.
He pinches my face between his fingers and tries to kiss me, and when I turn away, he yanks me by the hair toward the house. “No more fighting, Violet. You’re going to get this shit out of your system once and for all. Now we’re going inside, and you’re going to play nice.”
“Fuck you!” I thrust my hands into his chest, but it does nothing. His grip on my hair leaves me no choice but to follow as he drags me along into the house. “I’ll scream!”
“Go ahead,” he snickers. “I like it when you scream.”
“Is there a fucking problem here?”
Both of our heads whip to the side, and the breath leaves my lungs on a gasp when I see Zander standing there. When did he get here? His truck isn’t in the drive, and I have no idea where he came from. But regardless, I’ve never been so happy to see him in my entire life.
Scott releases me and glares at my savior. “This is a personal matter. It’s none of your business.”
“It’s my business if you’re trespassing and Violet doesn’t want you here.”
“Who is this guy?” Scott pins me with his gaze. “Does he know you?”
Zander seems amused that Scott doesn’t seem to recognize him from high school. But all I can think about is getting Scott out of my life once and for all.
“Yeah, I know him.” I walk over to Zander and tuck myself against his side. “He’s my boyfriend. And he’s also a detective, who just happens to live next door. So you might want to think about that next time you try to pay me a visit.”
Scott’s face mottles with red while he studies us, and a shit eating grin splits across Zander’s face. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s taunting him as he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him, gently tilting my chin up to kiss him.
“It’s alright, baby. I’ve got you.”
I sigh into him and somewhere in the space of those few stolen moments, Scott disappears. But before I can get too comfortable, Zander untangles himself from my body, his expression morphing into frustration.
“Um…thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along—”
“I have to get back to work,” he says abruptly.
I don’t get a chance to ask him if we can talk later because he’s already walking away. Again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday
Zander
“Come on, Violet.” He pounds on her front door. “Open up.”
Scott’s always been an idiot, and right now is no exception.
Violet’s out walking Nutmeg—yes, I know, she actually takes her cat for walks. Although Nutmeg tends to give up about a minute into it, so Violet ends up scooping her off the ground and cradling her to her chest for the next two blocks.
Either way, she’s not fucking home.
And more importantly—she has no interest in seeing him.
Something he damn well knows after we sent him packing the last time he showed up.
Hopping out of my truck, I stalk toward Violet’s house.
Scott’s still banging away on Violet’s front door, so he doesn’t see or hear me when I approach.
A simple gun to the head would put an end to this whole fucking thing, but given the son-of-a-bitch broke my leg and left me with a brain bleed that put me in the hospital and made me miss my high school graduation, I think I’m entitled to have a little fun.
Since I just got home from work, I have everything I need at my disposal.
Removing my taser gun from my belt, I aim it at his back.
I’d be lying if I said the sight of him falling to the ground in a fit of jerks and thrashes didn’t make me smile.
But it’s only the tip of the iceberg for what I have planned.
In one fell swoop, I flip him over on his belly and handcuff him.
He tries to fight me, but I’m the stronger one this time around.
“What the fuck—ouch.”
Snatching his hair, I pull him to his feet.
And then I launch my fist into his face, landing a sucker punch to his nose.
One that has him staggering back like a drunk giraffe before he falls.
Perfect.
Whistling, I lug his limp body toward my house.
Hopefully he enjoys our little sleepover as much as I do.
But something tells me he won’t.