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Presley scrambles to his feet and flounders to straighten out his disheveled clothes.
I hold my ground, shoulders back, my fingers twitching from the urge to throttle the bastard.
Erica steps sideways between me and thecacan.
Presley glowers at her. "Still screwing Scotch Tape, huh? Shouldn't he get back to the zoo? Bet the girl gorillas miss him real bad."
"Shut up," Erica snaps. She lodges her hands on her hips and scowls at him. "What on earth is wrong with you? I know you're the lowest level of scum in the pond, but I never pegged you for a peeping tom. What, you haven't ruined my life enough?"
"I did nothing." Presley sets his lips in a defiant line. "You did it all to yourself."
"You know what? You're right. I did do this to myself." She jabs a finger at him. "I trusted you."
He rolls his eyes.
What the bloody hell did this man do to her? How could he ruin her life? I can't believe she means that in an offhanded way. He must have hurt her badly, which might mean she still has feelings for him.
No, Erica is too clever for that. And she clearly despises him.
So do I.
Baring my teeth, I crack my knuckles and slant forward, ready to launch myself at the bastard.
Erica edges closer to me, splaying her hands on my chest. "Let me handle this, okay? Trust me."
I do trust her, so I take one step back. "If he makes a move toward ye, I willnae be responsible fer what I do."
"If he makes a move, you have my permission to skelp him till he's roadkill."
"Hey!" Presley waves his arms. "I'm still here, ya know."
Erica whirls on him. "I'm aware of that. Maybe I should call the cops to report a prowler."
"Who do you think they'll believe?"
She stares at Presley for several seconds, her determined expression melting into something akin to shame. Her eyes swivel to me.
I squint at Presley, drilling my gaze into him.
Turning to Presley, she points at the Alfa Romeo parked along the curb. "Get out of here."
He sneers at me.
I clench my fists and squint at him again.
Presley's face pales, and his smirk falters. He scurries to the Alfa Romeo.
Neither Erica nor I speak or move until the sports car zooms out of sight, the purring of its engine fading into the night.
Erica's knees buckle.
I swoop in to gather into my arms before she hits the ground. The rush of adrenaline must have flooded out of her, weakening her body.
"Easy." I press a kiss on her forehead. "Slow, deep breaths."
I carry her to the door and open it without letting go of her. Casey follows us into the bedroom where I lay Erica down on the bed. The sheets are already pulled back, and her body crushes the soft, slippery rose petals I had scattered across the bed before I joined her in the shower.
She pushes up on one elbow, blinking slowly as she takes in the sight of the pale-pink petals strewn across the bed and on the pillows.
