I feel sick. “I didn’t remember him from before. I didn’t know, and he didn’t know he shouldn’t be talking to me, either. Blake—”
“No, enough. Shut your fucking mouth.” He’s suddenly pushing me back, and I fall into the sofa, my breath knocked out of me. “This is all your fault. Fuck knows I tried to stop you from wandering around the town and talking to trash. My girlfriend isn’t talking to low-lives and that’s that.”
“I’m not your girlfriend, and keep your hands off me.” Then the meaning of his words hits me like a punch to the chest. “Tried… Tried to stop me? What do you mean?”
He shrugs, his mouth twisting. “I followed you on my bike all those months ago. I thought I’d scare you so you’d stop. But you’re a clumsy little bitch, so you fell, and you broke your leg, and I thought, even better. More time for you to be away from the streets and stop obsessing about every single homeless person. But no, you don’t give up, do you? You just don’t give the fuck up!”
I’m gasping for breath, horror making me light-headed. He did this. He hit me with his bike, and as I lay there unconscious, my leg broken, he called 9-1-1 and played the role of the savior. He slept with me, kissed me and pretended to care. All that and now he’s leaning over me, gloating, cornering me.
I think I’m going to puke.
Instead, I scramble sideways to get away from him. He laughs again and catches me as I reach the end of the sofa.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, a hand gripping my wrist, leaving bruises.
“Take your fucking hands off her,” another male voice says from behind us, and I see Blake’s face go still.
He releases me, and I twist to look at Joel, who is standing at his bedroom door in his PJs, his hands curled into fists.
Oh thank God. “I thought you were out,” I breathe, a sob caught in my throat.
“I was asleep. Missed practice because I wasn’t feeling too hot. Then I heard the voices. And then I heard Blake here confess he was behind the so-called accident.” Joel pushes off the doorframe and strides toward Blake who takes a step back. “You hurt my sister. And pretended to care for her. You stalked her, and hurt a guy on purpose.”
“You have no proof,” Blake bites out.
“Don’t I?” Joel lifts his cell phone. “I filmed every second of it.”
I want to grab Joel and plant sloppy kisses on his cheeks.
Then I remember what he said before confessing about the accident.
“You won’t touch Micah,” I say and jab a finger at Blake. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Blake sneers, and my
stomach takes another nosedive. “Too late for Micah.”
My stomach drops again. “What do you mean?”
“I sicced Alex on him. Told you not to hang around such men, Evie.” He clucks his tongue.
Oh no. I stand frozen, my muscles locked.
Joel’s face darkens with anger. He pulls his fist back and punches Blake in the face. Blood sprays. He broke Blake’s nose.
Good.
“Call the police,” Joel says. “Now, Evie.”
I nod, my eyes burning. “Yes. Okay. Then I’m going to find Micah.”
“Evie, stay here!” Joel is holding Blake by one arm, making sure he isn’t going anywhere.
Grabbing my jacket and cell phone, I head out. On the stairs down, I make a call to the police, directing them to the apartment, and then call Micah’s new cell. I call and call, but get no answer.
Dammit. I call a taxi and jump inside when it arrives a few minutes later. I keep calling Micah, refusing to read anything into his lack of response.
I need to find him, need to make sure he’s okay. Nothing else matters.