Page 18 of Chance

“Nope! We are doing your makeup,” She dropped the book on the table right as I heard a car horn from outside. I peeked through the glass on the door as the girls dragged me by, but there was nothing. I locked it and let Amelia drag me into the living room. A quilt was down and all of Ulta was spread out over it. I knew fighting was pointless so I sat to let them make me look like a drag queen.

“So is Ewan a good kisser?” Cadence brushed a shimmery eyeshadow on me and Amelia let out a loud “ew”. I didn’t answer. “I bet he’s a good kisser. Ugh, those lips.” My eyes were closed but I could imagine her face. “You should take us swimming with you this summer. I want a peek at his abs.”

“Cadence, you are disgusting.” Amelia and I could agree on that one.

“No, I’m just not blind. Your brother is hot. Like beyond sexy.” The other girls giggled in agreement, and Amelia groaned. “Right, Jovie, tell her he’s sexy.” Cadence’s hazel eyes looked at me expectantly. Teenagers were the worst.

“I really don’t want to talk about Ewan since the poor guy isn’t here to defend himself.” Or because you are sixteen and it’s weird as hell. Cadence rolled her eyes and whispered to Tia, who shook her head. Good girl, cousin.

Amelia took a million pictures, and I took a million more. The horn honked again, and I looked through the blinds, still nothing. Stupid neighbors. The girls ate, danced and ate some more before going upstairs. The horn happened about half a dozen more times, but I quit worrying about it. It was probably a boyfriend of one of the girls at the party. A paranoia tickled at the back of my mind, but I pushed it aside. We had left my car around back at work and had heard nothing from Mason in nearly a week.

The dogs went out, the dishes were clean, and the coffee pot was set for the next morning. Cinnamon rolls were in the fridge, ready to go straight in the oven. I was pretty proud to have survived. The house got quiet as the giggles from upstairs died out and I laid back on the couch with my book. The horn blared another dozen times before I drifted off with my new book in my hand.

TWENTY

Ewan

Briggs lived in one of the Victorian-style places similar to mine on the other side of the historic district. His mom was diagnosed with Parkinson’s a few months before, and he quickly sold his house to move in with her. The house was huge, way too big for two people. He had an amazing home theatre set up in a bonus room, including a pool table and a full-sized fridge. It was an enviable set up for sure. His brother, Beck, worked for another local architectural firm, and had moved into the third floor of the house around the same time Briggs had. Briggs made it very clear that we were lucky Beck was out for the night. Apparently, there was no love lost between the brothers. Briggs was a quiet guy but was adamant about Beck being the opposite.

The pizza was gone, the TV was blaring in the background, and we were deep into our third hand when my phone rang. Bev from next door. She called me when Clark got too rowdy and with Merlin staying the dogs were probably playing too loud outside. I ignored the call and dropped my cards on the table. The phone rang again. I huffed, collecting my chips from the center, and answered the phone. “Hey, Bev.”

“I hate to bother you but there is a man dumping bags on your lawn.” She didn’t sound drunk, but her statement made no sense. I tried to figure out if I had misheard her. “Ewan?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry. What do you mean?” I stood, catching my mates’ eyes as I grabbed my shoes and headed for the door. They all yelled for me to call if I needed them. I tossed my hand up, fumbling for my keys and ran to my car. My heart hammered against my ribs and my hands started sweating. The motherfucker was at my house. She was just feeling safe, and the nightmares had finally stopped.

“He’s gone, and your house is dark now, but there was a man with trash bags, and he was emptying them out in your grass. I couldn’t make out details in the dark, but it looks like clothes. Should I call the police?” Before I could answer, another call came in. Nick.

“Please, Bev. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t go out there. Thanks for calling.” I quickly flipped to the next call to Nick. “Yeah.” I slammed my car door, shoving the key in the ignition.

“Ewan, where is Jovie? Her phone is off or dead and something happened.” Nick was always level-headed, a calm guy, but this call was different. I pushed my foot harder on the pedal, rushing home. I told him she was at my house with the party and Nick described the scene they had just walked into. He and Rae had been out late, and when they got home Rae noticed Jovie’s door ajar. He called her, then the police when she didn’t answer. Her house was trashed. Books were strewn across the living room, the couch was slashed, and her clothes were all gone. Whore was painted across her door in red paint and her blankets had been shredded. Nick said the intruder had been in her bathroom, her bed was covered in bodily fluids and his tires had been slashed. I thanked him, promising to have Jovie call him as I leapt from the car and bounded up the front stairs. The police caught me as I unlocked the door. Cruisers were pulling up, lining my street, and I could see neighbors coming out to watch the scene. I peeked inside through the half-circle window in the top of the door to see her asleep on the couch. My girls were safe so I could relax slightly.

The scene in my yard was less appealing. Her clothes were everywhere, some were shredded, but it had to be everything she owned that wasn’t at my place. I clenched my fists, breathing through my nose. The first officer approached me, taking my information while I tried to keep from biting his head off. Samuel pulled up right as I was losing my patience with the officer. As a detective, he had insider information. I only wanted to get to Jovie, but was forced to keep answering questions. I just wanted to touch her, be reassured she was safe. I explained the situation, giving him the bastard’s name and struggling to keep my cool. Sam finally let me go get her while other officers checked the perimeter and took photos.

I eased the front door open and crouched by the couch, trying not to wake the girls upstairs. I whispered her name, but the girls must have worn her out because Jovie didn’t move. I brushed her hair back to study the makeup caked on her face from the partiers and nearly laughed. She rarely wore makeup; she didn’t need to. I nudged her again, saying her name, and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at me and touched my face softly. I hated to break up the moment, but I had to get her outside. Before I could, she noticed the flashing blue lights and sat up, looking terrified. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to be reassuring as we walked out to the circus outside my house.

“Miss Reed?” The officer I had talked to spoke softly to her, but Jovie was focused on her things in the yard. Her hand covered her mouth, covering the sob erupting from her lips. I gripped her shoulder tighter, and she leaned into me. “We need you to identify your things.” Jovie finally looked at him and nodded once, twisting her fingers into my shirt at my waist. We followed the officer and scanned the yard.

“It’s all mine.” I saw her jaw clench and I wrapped her in my arms. Tears trickled down her cheeks into my shirt. “I don’t want any of it. Please throw it out.” I whispered a promise to take care of it, smoothing her hair. “What-What happened?” Her voice shook, stoking my anger.

“A Nick Schriber called when he saw someone had been in your apartment. The suspect was gone when officers arrived, but then a neighbor here called about a disturbance, and we found your things here.” The officer paused to flip through his notebook. “Your apartment is being treated as a crime scene, and we have officers there now. Mr. Alexander filled us in on the events leading up to tonight and we strongly suggest an order of protection.” Jovie bobbed her head while he spoke, giving her details on the state of her condo and going over procedure, but she was focused on her clothes. The tears stopped and she seemed calm, but I knew it was shock, not acceptance. I was something else entirely. I was pissed. Every nerve in my body wanted to kill the bastard. To beat the life out of him. There was no doubt he was sick, but ill or not, the bastard was threatening her, threatening our happiness.

The officer promised they would do what they could to find the suspect, but at that moment, Mason hadn’t been located. Jovie insisted they go check on her shop, and the officer agreed to have someone keep an eye on it through the night. I kept her pressed against me while they talked and we answered all of his questions calmly. The process took forever and I sent her in to change and wash her face while I cleaned up her shredded clothes from the yard. I texted Rhett, knowing he wouldn’t answer until morning to ask him about a security system for the house. Surely being a contractor meant he knew something about them. She would fall back into nightmares, but maybe I could make her feel safer with alarms and cameras. I had to do something. The cruisers vanished one at a time as I carried the last trash bag of clothes to the curb. It was going to be a long night, but hopefully she felt safe enough with me to sleep a little. When I did find the man, I would kill him myself. I was not a violent person, I would normally walk away before engaging in a fight, but protecting my family made me violent. It would make any man take desperate measures. I stopped before I opened my front door, realizing the thoughts going through my head. My family.

TWENTY-ONE

Jovie

Everything felt foggy, like I was disconnected from the events, like I was watching someone else deal with everything. I followed Ewan’s instructions and called Nick who promptly told me not to come home because the place was trashed. He also felt the need to disclose what Mason had done in my bed and in my shower. And all my underwear was missing. Mason had spray painted whore across my door. Awesome. I knew all my clothes were gone because I had seen them scattered across the yard.

Ewan pulled me down on to the couch once he came back in. “You can stay as long as you need. You know that, right? You know I want you here.” I nodded. The truth was, I didn’t want to go home anyway. I was kind of liking waking up to him, having him around constantly, and I knew he hated sleeping alone. I would have to go shopping soon for new clothes and new sheets. I shuddered thinking about it. I needed a new couch, a new bed. Mason had completely defaced every inch of my condo. Ewan finally dragged me up to bed and held me on his chest. “The nightmares had just ended. I’m so sorry this happened.” I caught the smell of some hard liquor on him and giggled at the thought of him drinking enough for me to smell it. The nightmares hadn’t ended, but they were less frequent and less violent. I had kept them from him, though.

“Now I get to have nightmares of the disgusting things Mason did to my clothes.” I rubbed my nose in his neck. “How was your night?” I desperately needed to focus on something else. Ewan rehashed his night of dinner and drinks with his mates. His accent was thick, but he had pretty much adopted the American lingo. Mate was one of the European words he clung to. It was adorable. I listened to him get excited about his buddies sharing pictures of their kids with him and talk about how cute his friend’s toddler was. Ewan talked about their weddings and how much he liked their wives. The four of them had been close, spending weekends together when Amelia spent time with their aunt, until they got married and Ewan didn’t. They had recently adopted a new mate into their little group, a guy Ewan worked with, and Ewan seemed to like the guy. I caught myself dozing, thinking about how badly I wanted him to have all the things he envied about his friends. I wanted him to have it all.

I woke up to giggling and squealing the next morning, but Ewan was completely unaware. I knew Amelia could handle the cinnamon buns so I took the opportunity to just stare at him. The way he was positioned on his back with his arm thrown over his head and his shirt riding up his hip made me all kinds of lustful. But another part of me found him vulnerable. My gorgeous man was all stoic and in control until moments like that. His beard was slightly overgrown compared to usual and his hair was disheveled. The man was sexy as hell.

I showered and left him to sleep while I controlled the crowd downstairs. They were icing the fresh cinnamon buns and erupted into a chorus of giggles when I came in. I had refused to talk about Ewan the night before, but the few who had made lewd comments on Facebook tried to ask me more about him. I did not envy their hormones in the least.

“Where’s my brother?” Amelia handed me a cup of coffee.

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