Page 102 of Tough Love
“Hey, I’m on my way ho—”
“He’s fucking here,” I whisper yell down the line.
“Shit.” The Jeep’s engine roars in the background. “I’m literally two streets away, babe. Hang up from me and call 111.”
The hammering stops, the night falling eerily quiet save for the canned laughter on the TV.
“You catch what I said?” Evan asks.
“Yeah. I was listening, it’s just …” I strain my ears to hear something, anything. “He’s gone quiet.”
“I’ve just turned into our street. Hang up now and dial it in, babe.”
Even in my panic, I still find it in me to be touched that he called it “our” street, not “your.”
I disconnect as the unmistakable sound of glass shattering is followed by the dense thuds of something heavy on metal. Fucking arsehole is trashing my car again. I dash to the window to see if I can spot him.
Nothing. The car’s tucked directly under me, out of sight.
My fingers fumble and dial 118 in error. I clear the numbers and start again, hammering in the last 1 as I catch a flicker of movement to the right. Lifting the phone to my ear, I press my face against the glass to see Evan’s headlights behind the gate that casts shadows as it opens.
The line connects as Evan speeds the Jeep up to my apartment. He flings the door open, jumping out and rounding the hood in several long strides.
“Oi!” he yells at what I presume is Tristan below me. “Get out here.”
“Fire, police, or ambulance,” the operator asks as I smash my face to the glass in an effort to see anything, something.
“Police.”
“Please state your emergency, Ma’am.”
Movement behind Evan draws my attention, and the old guy I’ve seen a handful of times who lives diagonally across from me appears at the base of his steps with a phone held out in front of him. “I’ve called the police already.”
“Are they still on the line?” Evan calls back, keeping his focus on Tristan, who emerges from under the building.
“Yeah.”
“Tell them officer QJS540 requires assistance. 1336 in progress.”
The old guy backs up his steps, seeming to repeat the message into his cell phone.
“Ma’am,” the operator asks. “Can you tell me your emergency?”
“A man I know is here threatening me and my child.” I don’t even think twice about calling Briar mine, figuring the time it would take to elaborate is seconds wasted. “My neighbour’s called you as well.”
“Can you get somewhere safe, somewhere away from the man until we arrive?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m inside at the moment and he’s down by my car. But my partner’s there too.”
Tristan continues to advance on Evan, slow, menacing, and with a swagger that leaves me feeling uneasy.
“Can you give me your address?”
I rattle off my details, eyes darting between the men as they circle each other.
“You’re right. We’ve already sent a unit to that address. Stay where you are and keep me on the—”
I drop the phone to my side, still connected.Fuck being the damsel in distress locked in her tower.Tristan’s here because of me. If he wants to argue the point with someone, direct his rage somewhere, it should be with me, not Evan.