I shook my head. “No, I was finished. I’m free until later this afternoon when I go to the El Capitan theater for Jimmy Kimmel.”
“Maybe they booked a last-minute call.”
As he spoke, he pulled out of me, and I whimpered at the loss, surprising myself. My nerve endings were so sensitized to him that I didn’t like not having him inside me.
Standing up straight, I yawned as I stretched. “After I check my messages, a nap would be aweso—”
I stopped talking when my phone started buzzing again. Reaching out, I picked it up and looked at the display. Seeing Allie’s name on the display, I accepted the call.
“Are you home and ready to give me all the dirty details about you and Vaughn?” I teased.
“We have a problem,” she said, her tone elevated.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just got a call from Cara Lee from down the hall. When she went down to the parking garage to leave for hot yoga, she saw your car was completely trashed. She says all the windows are busted, the headlights are smashed in, the convertible top is slashed to shit, there are huge dents all over the body of the car, your tires are flat, and the words cunt, bitch, and whore are spray painted on the hood and sides of the car.”
“What the hell?” I asked as I stepped back and dropped down into the chair.
“You need to meet me at the condo so we can call the police. Right now. Cara Lee is sitting in her car monitoring the scene so no one touches anything.”
“I’ll get dressed and come right away,” I muttered, still trying to get my bearings.
Stalkers in Los Angeles weren’t unheard of, by any means. The number of celebrities who found fans on their property or, worse, actually in their houses was horrifying. The other way to terrorize a celebrity was to SWAT them. That meant someone would falsely report a hostage situation so that the SWAT team would show up and storm a residence. I was cautious—all people in the public eye were—but I’d never had a situation so extreme happen before. Thus, I was understandably freaked out.
I startled when Gage took the phone from me. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice tight.
I shook my head to clear it. “My car was vandalized.”
I then relayed everything Allie had told me. His frown grew more extreme with every word, but he held himself in check and didn’t curse or get angry. I thought it was because he could tell that I was freaking out.
We dressed in record time—me in a pair of his boxer shorts and a navy T-shirt, and him in jeans and a white tee. I didn’t live all that far from him, so it only took fifteen minutes to get there. I wasn’t surprised to see that the garage was already open. Glancing over at me, Gage frowned.
“Why the fuck is the garage open?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It’s been broken for about six weeks. We’ve all called to complain, but nothing has happened.”
“That’s bullshit,” he seethed.
I didn’t get a chance to respond because we’d gotten far enough into the garage that I saw Allie, Vaughn, and Cara Lee standing in the back next to my car. Even from that far away, I could see that the damage was extensive.
“Shit,” I muttered. “My parents are going to flip.”
“Is it their car?” he asked.
I shook my head as he parked behind a shiny black Maserati that I assumed was Vaughn’s, considering that it was double parked.
“It’s my car, but this is their condo. When they retired five years ago, Allie and I decided to leave the shitty apartment we were in and move here. It’s a win-win for everyone—we get a nice place and my parents have an investment property that costs them nothing. They love this building, and my mom is convinced living here keeps me safe. This isn’t going to sit well.”
“It isn’t sitting well with me either,” he replied, his voice low.After I changed into real clothes, I’d called the police to report what happened to my car. I spent ninety minutes in the garage, first waiting for the police to arrive, followed with giving my report, and then taking a ton of photos for insurance. Once that was over, I had the car towed to a body shop recommended by one of the officers. I knew auto body professionals could make anything look good, but it was hard to imagine that my little Mini Cooper would ever look normal again.
Pretty much the entire time we were dealing with things in the garage, Gage was pacing, grinding his teeth, or generally looking like he was about to explode. Since Vaughn was doing the same, I figured it was a guy thing.
When we finished up in the garage and went up to the condo, both men wasted no time in voicing their displeasure.