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“Are you asking if he’s hit me?” My voice comes out barely a whisper.
“Yes.” Zeb’s tone is firm. His gaze intense. He wants the truth but won’t force it.
“I don’t think Scott would hurt a fly.” I avert my gaze, unable to watch Zeb’s reaction when he realizes it’s a lie.
“You’d be surprised what men will do when they want something.” Zeb leans against the counter and absently picks up the small box delivered earlier.
He gives it a little shake, then his brows pull together. He brings the box close, turning it this way and that as if trying to decipher the contents. When he brings it to his nose, sniffing it, I can no longer hold back my curiosity.
“What are you doing?” Apprehension fills my voice, probably because I know who put the box on the stoop.
“Who’s this for?” He continues studying the box with a critical eye.
“I don’t know. It was dropped off a few minutes ago, but there’s no note attached.”
“Dropped off earlier? How much earlier?”
“Just before the second round of pizzas were delivered. Someone rang the doorbell. I thought it was the pizza guy, but there was just the box. No note, like I said. I was going to ask Barbi and Carmen if they were expecting something.”
He studies me for a long moment, completely silent, before responding. “I have a feeling they aren’t.” He picks up the box again. “More likely than not, this is meant for you.” His lips form a thin line and his eyes harden while he waits for what he says to sink in.
“How would you know?” I reach for the box, hands trembling.
For a split second, Zeb tightens his grip on the box. His body tenses as if getting ready for a fight, but then he hands the box to me.
“Because I know what’s in the box.”
“What? How?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do.” I reach for the box determined to see what’s inside.
For a split second, it looks like he’s going to snatch the box away. When I grab a knife to cut through the packing tape, Zeb shakes his head and takes a step back. His jaw is tight and he doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Remember, I warned you,” he says.
Unfortunately, my curiosity is too great. The moment I slice through the tape, the foulest odor assaults my nostrils. The pungent aroma of feces is so strong it makes me take a step back in revulsion.
Zeb grimaces and pinches his nose.
“What the…” I inch forward to see what’s inside. Sure enough someone packed up a pile of excrement and sent it to me. I stare wordlessly at Zeb, my mouth gaping in shock.
“Can I look at those texts?” Zeb sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. His expression hardens.
“Why?” My voice cracks with fear. Not to mention how surreal this feels.
“Because your ex has crossed a very important line, and I want to confirm it.”
“What does that mean?” My stomach twists with dread as I dare ask a question I don’t want answered.
“Not to scare you, but there’s a very fine line between an angry-ex and stalker behavior.” There’s a calmness to Zeb’s gaze. This is his way of warning me worse things might happen.
To my surprise, I hand Zeb my phone. There’s a weird quivering in my gut, and a growing sense of unease. I keep silent as Zeb scans through Scott’s angry texts.
I already know what he’s going to say. Barbi said it this morning. Those texts are crazy; if I don’t do something soon to pacify Scott, I worry he’ll go from stalker to something far worse.
Zeb swipes his finger across the screen. “This guy’s dangerous.” Zeb gives me back my phone.
