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Today, we have Mrs. Blade’s class coming back. We started reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl, and today, we’re going to get through the next few chapters.
“Bring some of your stuff here,” Caleb says.
I stop dead in my tracks. “Pardon?”
“I’ll clean out a drawer.”
I know I sound like an idiot when I repeat, “You’ll clean out a drawer?”
“Yeah, babe. No big deal.” He shrugs and walks out the bedroom door, like it’s a natural thing to invite someone into your personal space. I don’t know what to make of it, and perhaps now isn’t the time to ask questions, seeing as how I’ve got to get over to my place.
“Caleb, I’m heading out,” I call as I make my way to the front door. Before I can open it, he’s by my side and kissing me. This man has a power over me that I just can’t fight. I melt like a puddle in his arms.
“Your place tonight. I don’t like that you have to rush around in the morning,” he says. He notices how I like an unhurried morning and is finding ways to make it easier on me.
“Thank you. I’ll cook tonight.”
He cups my cheek and slides his nose against mine. “Later, baby.”
* * *
Later is much sooner than expected when I walk up my drive and see my pretty blue Ford Fusion with spray-painted bold red letters across the doors. The word BITCH is emblazoned on both sides of my car for all to see.
I shout for Caleb and remain stuck in my tracks, staring at the ugly graffiti. Caleb runs from his house and sees what I’ve been staring at for what seems an eternity, although it’s been mere minutes.
He wraps his arms around me, but swears under his breath. He starts to see me fall apart and holds me tighter. “It’s going to be okay, Gwen. I got ya,” he murmurs in my ear. “Let’s get you inside.” Caleb urges me forward and up my walkway, takes out the key I gave him the other day, and opens my door. “Wait here,” he says, then proceeds to go through my house, room by room. “It’s all clear, baby. I gotta make some calls. Get changed and I’ll take you into work.” He prods me gently down the hallway.
“Who would do that to my car?” I ask. It’s setting in that someone doesn’t like me. In fact, they must hate me to trash my car that way.
“Gwen—”
“They called me a bitch. They put it on my car for the entire neighborhood to see. Who could hate me that much?”
“We’ll find out who did this. I promise you,” Caleb states with steely determination. “Go get changed. I’ll be right here waiting.”
* * *
Caleb
The car I saw driving away last night comes to mind. My gut’s never wrong. The worst of it is that I have a damn good idea who did this. Karen’s making more of a nuisance of herself by the second, but this time, she’s gone too far. Pestering me is one thing, but attacking Gwen, that’s crossing a line. Vandalism of this sort escalates the situation.
“Alex, we’ve got a problem,” I say into the phone.
“Christ, Caleb. Isn’t it too early to have issues?” he says.
“Gwen’s car has been vandalized. I need a team to check for prints. I also need Zeke to see if anyone on the street has cameras and we can get footage of who did this.” What I’m really looking for is confirmation of what I suspect.
“I’ll get a team together. And call Zeke and Damian.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “You waited too long to do something about her. She should have been dealt with a long time ago.”
“I see that now,” I grit out. I didn’t want to ruin the girl. Having a record can affect your life in so many ways, and I honestly thought she was over all this crap.
“She’s delusional, and if this was her, because at this point there’s no solid proof, but if it is, she’s elevated to another level of crazy. Worst part is, the target is Gwendolyn,” he says.
I blow out a heavy breath, trying to contain my anger and frustration. “I’m taking Gwen to work. I’m going to arrange a car to patrol the vicinity regularly. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I tell him.
“Let me arrange for someone to keep an eye on Gwen. Damian will make the call.” I know who Alex is talking about. Gwen couldn’t be safer with this guy around. This guy is a phantom; you never know where he is or when he’ll show up. Damian once told me he likes it that way. It’s an unlikely friendship that Damian has with this guy from back when he served in the army, but it seems to make sense for them, and of course, we trust Damian, so this guy must be solid.
“You think he’ll do it?”
