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He's watching ESPN. I'm watching him. He's better than anything on television, anyway.
"I went to see your landlord."
"Theo," I groan. "Did you get in another fight?"
"No. We had a discussion."
"A civil one?" I ask, peering at him through narrowed eyes.
"Civil enough," he grunts, reaching over me to place the remote on the coffee table. "He broke into your apartment again last night."
"Did he steal the rest of my panties?" I ask, wrinkling my nose at the thought.
"No. He stole an entire box of random shit, books and magazines, your television remote, a couple magnets, and two bras."
"Seriously? He stole my bras?" I clamber up until I'm straddling his waist.
"Mmhmm," Theo says.
"He's such a jerk!" I complain, scowling. "The panties were bad enough. That was gross and invasive. But bras are freaking expensive when you're my size."
"What the fuck is wrong with your size?" Theo asks, one brow arched.
"I don't know. Ask the bra companies," I huff. "They're the ones who make us pay triple for a good bra. Why did he steal them?"
"Uh, because he's a fucking creep?" Theo says.
"I know that." I roll my eyes. "I mean, did he say why he's being creepy though?"
"He wanted you to move in with him." Possessiveness glitters in Theo's eyes, turning them to green slate. "I disabused him of that notion. He won't be bothering you ever again."
"Good," I say, laying back down on him.
He runs a hand down my back. "He won't be suing you for damages either," he murmurs. "If you want to file an official report and get the police involved, we can do that. But either way, he won't be a problem for you anymore, little one."
"Should we file a report?"
"Probably," he says. "It'll keep him from doing the same shit to anyone else."
I think about it for a minute and then nod. "Okay."
"You're sure?" he asks, rolling to the side so I slide off him onto the couch. He tips my head back until our eyes meet. Soft concern burns in his, warming me up. He's so sweet to me. No one has ever worried about me like he does, not even Uncle John. With Theo, it's different. He doesn't worry about me because I'm family and he's obligated. I think he does it because he wants to worry about me. "We won't be able to keep the details from leaking. Reporters will get their hands on the report. They'll probably plaster it all over the news."
He's right. But I don't care. They can have the story if they want it. Maybe it'll keep someone else from thinking he can do the same thing to someone else. Maybe it'll give some scared girl in the same position the courage to come forward and ask for help. Maybe it won't. I don't know. The important thing is that one man, at least, won't be able to do the same thing to anyone else.
"Let them," I tell Theo. "At least he won't be able to do it again."
"He won't," Theo vows. "I already talked to my lawyers. We're buying the complex out from underneath him."
"You are?"
"Weare," he corrects. "You and me, little one."
"Okay," I whisper, smiling at him. I like the way that sounds. "But, um…can I ask for one thing?"
"Anything," he says.
"Can we please burn all my bras and panties and buy new ones?"
