I took my time and shook off the disappointment of being fucked and discarded so easily. I should be used to it, but after so many years of taking control of my life, my destiny, it stung. Made me feel like the abandoned little girl in foster care all over again, and I just could not abide that feeling. Not fucking ever again. I packed my bags and loaded up my car and went back home.
To a construction zone. Not that I expected the contractors to perform feats of magic, but I really didn’t want to think of so many people being inside my home. “I know I said I’d stay away but circumstances have changed.”
Jase, the head contractor gave a sympathetic grin. “It’s your house Ms. Quinton, but it would be safer if you used one of the other entrances. This flooring isn’t quite ready for any weight yet.” He sighed and met me in the back. “We should be no more than three more days.”
“That’s fine, Jase. I appreciate you guys fitting me in so quickly.” I expected I might have to wait at least a month just to get them out, so I was happy they were almost done. “I’ll be in my room.”
My emotions were all over the place and my room was the best place for me, anyway. Body still humming from that good hard fuck from Tate, mind still reeling from how he could just walk away from me and I didn’t even mean the sex stuff. It pissed me off that I’d let myself rely on someone else for my safety. I hadn’t done that since I was ten and a half years old and realized I only had myself to rely on, and I hated myself for caring that he’d left.
But I did care, dammit. And that pissed me off more. But that was over; he’d made it more than clear that he was done with the burden of my personal security. One call to a local security company and someone had come out to do a consultation within the hour. I went with the Cadillac package, video surveillance, motion lights and a loud alarm system. If that didn’t save me, nothing and no one would.
I spent the rest of the day getting my life back in order. Everything was all set for the engagement party, and after one final call to Mandy to check out the dessert spread, I felt pretty good about the party. I’d never thrown an engagement party at a biker gang hangout, but maybe it would expand my clientele. There was just this one thing to do and since I had no idea where Tate was, or if he was ever coming back, I called someone else.
“Hey Jag, sorry to bother you but I need you to send the invite for the party to Max and Jana.”
He took a long pause before he responded. “Isn’t Tate doing that?”
“He’s gone and I need to make sure this gets done. Can I rely on you to do this?”
“Yeah, sure,” he sighed. “I’ll make sure they get it and that both of them show up.”
“Thank you, Jag. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell all of your friends. Please.”
I laughed but before I could say anything else he’d ended the call. As I made my way down the never ending to-do list, I became aware of the house falling quiet as the contractors and then the security consultant knocked off for the day. The quiet grew louder, highlighting just how alone I was again and the creep factor set my stomach on edge.
Too wound up to eat, I decided to try and get some sleep, figuring unconsciousness would make the sounds less terrifying, or at least quieter. It didn’t. Mostly because I couldn’t get to sleep. I got up and went to the living room where I worked in front of the TV until I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Two hours later and my fitful sleep was over.
Frustrated, tired and frightened, and thoroughly pissed off about it, I figured a shower and then a pot of coffee would help my body pick a side. Standing under the hot shower spray did help me wake up, but that only made my mind race with thoughts of the stalker’s identity and what the hell had crawled up Tate’s ass. But I reminded myself that he didn’t owe me a damn thing. Basic human kindness would have been nice, but it wasn’t the first time reality and my expectations had crashed violently. And I doubted it would be the last.
The sound of glass shattering sounded over the shower spray. What the fuck? Every nerve ending buzzed like I’d stuck my finger into a light socket. Then another shattering sound. And another. Was someone bombing my house?
The unmistakable smashing of glass was followed by the thuds of bricks or stones or other heavy objects. My heart jumped into my throat and I swore it stopped beating. I wasn’t sure it was going to start up again. But then, my pulse began pounding like a madman. I was sure whoever was out there could hear it.
I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of the night under in the shower, so I slipped out but left the water running to hide my movements and tiptoed across the bathroom floor. I pressed my ear against the door with my eyes squeezed shut. I hadn’t heard anything after the last very heavy object hit the floor somewhere near the living room. No footsteps. No soft voices.
I held my breath and waited, listening for a few more seconds before I made my decision. I had to take action and decided to take a chance that I was alone. That the crazy fucker was outside and not in the hallway waiting for me to show my face. It was either that or spend the rest of my life in the shower.
I took the deepest breath ever, opened the door and vaulted over to the bedroom and grabbed the clothes I’d laid out off the bed and my phone off the dresser, then made a crazy-assed dash back to the bathroom. I locked myself in, images of some motherfucker letting loose an AR 15 through the bathroom door while I was making my hysterical call to the police. I dialed 911 and swore at my phone until the dispatcher answered.
“Someone is throwing things through my windows and I can’t tell if they got inside the house or not.”
I trembled against the wall, making sure I would be out of the line of fire from the window and the door while the 911 dispatcher assured me help was on the way.
I didn’t believe her soft, soothing words but just the sound of them prevented me from freaking the fuck out any more than I already was as I pulled on my clothes. Her voice lulled me into a sense of false security that was quickly shattered when a loud pounding sounded that made me jump out of my skin.
“Ma’am it’s the police, open up!”
The dispatcher heard them and gave me instructions. “It’s okay Teddy. Ask for their names before you open the door.”
I did and the dispatchers said, “It’s all good. Those are the officers responding to this call. Open the door, sweetheart. You’re all right.”
I stood on shaky legs, my hands fumbling as I turned the little lock and twisted
the doorknob. I pulled it open barely an inch and saw two tall men in uniforms. Police uniforms. They helped me to the sofa in the living room and ten minutes later my house was full again, this time with all manner of law enforcement.
They dusted for fingerprints. Picked up glass and bagged it. Asked me a thousand questions, took my statement and ninety minutes later they were gone.