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Rosa stole her story to make herself seem sophisticated or something. She was always trying to paint herself in a certain light, to create a certain image about herself.
And I guess right now, she’s playing the role of the ex who just wants to be friends—except she cheated on me, so we didn’t part on good terms at all. She forced herself on me, and she came up with some sick plot to ruin my relationship.
She made Nina cry.
If she thinks I’d even bother to respond to her attempts to communicate, she’s wrong.
But I haven’t blocked her—not yet because I need these messages as evidence. She’s spinning a web so complex she won’t be able to escape it herself.
First though, I need to fix things with Nina.
Looking around, I notice there’s no doorbell, so I raise my hand to the door and knock.
No answer.
It’s late now—almost 2 a.m. The streets are dark. The neighbors are probably asleep.
Doubt creeps into my thoughts. I went to great lengths to book a seat on the flight to Seattle at the last minute. I don’t care that I paid about twice what the ticket should’ve cost, but what if I’m wrong? What if Nina’s not here? What if she’s back in Denver instead, crying in her apartment?
But—checking my phone again—Dean hasn’t responded to my calls and texts, which can only mean that he knows what happened. Or a version of what happened, at least. Nina’s version. Which probably doesn’t make me look like the best boyfriend in the world.
Knowing Dean, he probably told his little sister to come to his side right away. He’s got a high-powered job he can’t leave, but he’d want to keep watch over Nina and take care of her.
I knock harder. “Dean!” I call out.
Still nothing.
I hear some noises inside, so obviously someone’s home. But that someone also obviously doesn’t want to see me.
I knock harder and harder until I’m pounding on the door, banging so hard I worry I’m going to splinter the wood or something.
“Dean!” I’m yelling at this point. “Open the door!”
More noises from inside—feet shuffling, hopefully.
I hear a loud voice in the dark. “Knock it off!” But it’s not Dean or Nina. Looking around me, I see a few lightbulbs have flare on in the house next door as well as the house across the street.
Who cares? If they call the cops, maybe Dean will finally have to answer the door. And even if I’m wrong, and Nina’s not here, Dean probably knows how to reach her.
He’s the only lead I’ve got, and I’m not about to just walk away.
“Dean! I know you’re in there!” I shout. “Open the door!”
I keep banging and shouting. The neighbors probably think Dean owes some mobster loan shark some money, and I’m the thug who’s been sent to collect on his debt.
“Motherfucker,” I hear Dean’s familiar voice grumbling from inside.
Finally.
A click, and then the door cracks open.
I’ve never been happier to see Dean, even if he’s shooting me a death glare right now.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks in a loud whisper, eyes frantically scanning the neighborhood. His hand is still on the doorknob, ready to shut the door in my face.
“I need to see Nina. She’s here isn’t she?”
“Do you know what time this is?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“Yeah. Late. That’s why I had to knock so hard. I needed to wake you up.” I give him a small smile, hoping to melt the tension with a little joke.
“Fuck off.”
Okay. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for a light-hearted chat.
“Dean, I really need to see Nina,” I plead, seriously this time.
“There’s no chance in hell I’m going to let you see her. She’s already got one crazy stalker ex. The last thing she needs is another one,” he says through gritted teeth, apparently finding it a challenge to control his voice. His jaw ticked, the muscles in his neck tight.
He’s furious—with good reason if he thinks I cheated on his sister. But he’s also just pretty much told me that Nina’s inside.
Hope sparks in my chest at the thought of Nina possibly hiding just behind the door, listening to me.
“Nina!” I yell out, unable to contain myself.
“You fucking asshole. I told you to leave.” Dean takes one threatening step forward, joining me on the porch, pulling the door closed.
I step back. The last thing I want is to get into physical altercation with one of my oldest friends—over some stupid scheme Rosa cooked up, no less.
“Dean, I assume you heard about what happened from Nina. It was all a misunder—”
“Look, Brock. The only reason your pretty face is still intact is because you were my friend—” I grimace at the past tense “—but you hurt my sister, and I’m really, really tempted to beat you to a pulp right now. I don’t even care that the cops are probably going to be here soon because of all the noise you’ve been making.”
