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When I see Vincent roll to his side as if to reach for me, I grab a pillow and shove it into his arms. He pulls it close, burying his face into it. He’s not only ungodly hot but he's adorable too. I really am going to get my heart broken if this man decides to up and leave. But I’m a little too far gone to worry about that at this point.
Then again, he might not have much of a choice in staying. Not after all the unprotected sex we’ve been having. There might be a shotgun wedding and not because of my parents but my brother. He’d been eyeing both of us all night. I’m not sure where he really stands on this whole Vincent and me thing, but I think he’s on the fence about it.
I know he was against it at first, but that was him being an overprotective brother. The fact that he’s no longer dead set against it gives me a ray of hope that Vincent really is a good man. If he was some manwhore or something, my brother would have lost it by now. I think he’s still struggling with the fact of me not being a little girl anymore.
Growing up in this house, I know exactly where to step to not make even one board creak as I come and go. Tonight I’m not planning to play a small game with Blake. I’ve got something much more interesting in store for him. The small pranks are over. Me letting the air out of his tires or talking Mrs. Barns into putting Ex-Lax into his morning donut order once was small potatoes compared to what’s coming his way. Not that I really had to talk Mrs. Barns into it. She’s not a fan of his either. He’s always demanding his donuts and coffee be free. It’s not that she wouldn’t happily do that; it’s the fact that the fucker thinks everyone around here owes him something.
“What are you doing?” I hiss when I see Melody parked at the end of the driveway. “I’m the getaway driver.”
“How did you even know I was going to be doing something?” She gives me a look like I’m stupid.
“I know you.” She pauses. “I might have seen Brittany.”
“She was out and about?”
“No, she was letting her dog out. I got a peek at her.” I let out a breath. “I put that together with your mood and knew what was going on and what might be going down later. Get in,” she orders. I round the car and slip into the passenger seat and shut the door as softly as I can.
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of this?”
“What isthisgoing to be?” Melody creeps out of the driveway, not turning on her headlights until we’re a bit away from the house.
“I was going to fuck up his fancy old Corvette.”
“Emma—”
“I know it’s stupid! I don’t know what else to do!” The words burst out of me. “Ever wonder why Cara left town so quickly after she and Blake had their little fling? Or what all went on when the mayor had to rush out of town a few times when Blake was away at college?”
“Rosie had an incident with him too, I think.” Melody’s words are doing nothing to talk me out of my plans for Blake’s Corvette. If anything, they’re only fueling the fire more.
“Rosie as in the second-grade teacher at the elementary?” Melody nods.
“No wonder you smiled so big when I told you I’d been messing with him.”
“You could go to jail.”
The thought has already crossed my mind. I definitely could get in trouble, but it’s either this or do nothing. And I’m not a do-nothing type of girl. I’m not going to stand by and watch that jerk get away with hurting women.
“I want him to suffer, and he loves that damn car. Treats it with more respect than anything.”
“Where do you think I should park?” Melody asks.
“There.” I direct her around the corner to where Blake lives. All the lights are off at his place. I’m hoping he’s out for the night. “Stay put,” I order Melody before I slip from the car and cut through the back of the houses that sit butted against a wooded area. I only have to cross behind two houses to make it to his place.
He keeps his 1970 Corvette parked in a carport and not in the garage like a dummy. He wants everyone to see that thing. If it’s tucked away in the garage, then he’s not showing it off. It’s dark out, but the moon gives me enough light to let me see what I’m doing. I stare at the shiny fresh paint job he had done on it a few weeks ago. This is really crossing a line.
I start to pull out the blade from my boot when something wraps around me from behind, lifting me from my kneeling position on the side of the car. I know it’s Blake from the smell of his cologne. He’s got one arm wrapped around my chest.
Fear shoots through my body, but my training kicks in. I let my body weight sink, not fighting the hold as he thinks I’ll likely do. He starts to bend forward as I slip down, and I catch the smell of alcohol on him too.
When I sink low enough, I elbow his side as hard as I can as I use my other hand to grab for his fingers that are on my chest. I take hold of one and pull back with all my strength. I’m not strong enough to break a man’s wrist or hold, but I can get him to let me go. I can also break a finger if need be.
“Ahh! You little bitch.” He lets go of me but kicks one foot out, sweeping my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, all the air leaving my lungs. I taste blood, something having busted my lip. “I knew it was you!” We roll around until he’s got me pinned beneath him. It doesn’t matter how much training you have. Brute force is brute fucking force.
“Get the fuck off me,” I growl.
“You’re trespassing, Emma,” Blake points out. “What were you going to do this time?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was walking and thought I saw something, so I was checking it out.”
