If I’d had any remaining doubts about what’s been going on, the murderous look on his face would’ve confirmed everything I needed to know. I’ve got him pinned and am just waiting on the referee to call the match in my favor.
Meanwhile, Ed stands in my way, panting and furious. “Did you enjoy last night’s photo? Did she show you? I have more.”
This guy just won’t quit. I see this is what he’s been like with her, too. I’m sure every time she’s pulled away from me it’s because he’s been hounding her like this, unwilling to let her go. “You’ve been harassing her with them, haven’t you? Holding them over her head. I get it now. You’re that asshole. The one who just can’t take it when a woman says no.”
I see Ed’s fist coming and pull back so his fist glances off my cheekbone. It’s not a solid hit, but it’s enough to whip my head backward. I exhale through my nose and grind my teeth together. I can take whatever he wants to dish out. I stand my ground, working my head from side to side, then rub a hand over my face. “Yep. You’re that guy.” The next punch rockets from the side, hitting my jaw and splitting the side of my lower lip.
And that’s enough. I jab straight at his nose and hear a sickening crack just before blood gushes from it, dripping all over the sidewalk.
Stunned, he clamps his hands to his face and glares at me.
“Bottom line, Ed, you’re harassing her, and that won’t be happening anymore.”
He shouts, “You’re fucking her, kid. And I’ll make sure everyone knows it. She’ll lose her job, and you’ll never even land one.”
“I’m no kid, Ed, I’m a twenty-four-year-old man, and whatever is between us is our business. But as far as you’re concerned, we have evidence of what you’ve been doing, sending her those text messages, threatening her with sharing private images that you took of her—images I’m guessing she asked you to get rid of. Only you didn’t. Instead, you used them in an attempt to do what? Get her back? That was never gonna happen. You want to make her life hell because she didn’t want you? There’s only one of us who isn’t acting like an adult here, and it’s not me. What you’re doing is called criminal harassment. Know what that is?” I’m on a roll now, in my element, and I can’t wait for this next bit.
He huffs as he holds his nose, narrowing his eyes at me.
“No comment? Let me fill you in. Because this so-called nerd—that’s what you called me the first time you spoke to me—is definitely smarter than you are. I have a damn near photographic memory, in fact. Under Massachusetts state law, chapter 265, section 43A says ‘whoever willfully and maliciously engages in a knowing pattern of conduct or a series of acts over time directed at a specific person, which seriously alarms that person and would cause a reasonable person to suffer substantial emotional distress, shall be guilty of the crime of criminal harassment and shall be punished by imprisonment in a house of correction for not more than two and a half years or by a fine of not more than one thousand dollars, or by both such fine and imprisonment.’”
Ed’s face blanches, and he shuffles his feet. Almost like he wants to turn tail and run but doesn’t want to look like the wuss he actually is.
“Shall I go on?”
Slowly, as if it pains him to do so—which it might, considering the swelling of his nose—he shakes his head.
“If you so much as breathe in her direction, she will press charges against you.” I shove past him and toss over my shoulder, “Yeah, I’m a real fucking nerd, all right. Comes in handy sometimes.”
Chapter 31
Hadleigh
Maybe I read Sawyer’s text wrong. I could have sworn he said he was coming here when he was done at the school, but that was two hours ago. A little seed of worry starts to form in the back of my mind. I keep trying to brush it off, but it’s like I know. Something’s not right. My phone vibrates with an incoming message. To my surprise, it’s Willow, not Sawyer.
Unknown Number: It’s Willow.
Unknown Number: Could you come to our apartment? Sawyer needs you.
Unknown Number: He won’t tell you that, but he does.
Me: You’re scaring me.
Me: What’s the address?
Unknown Number: 2284 Rockingham Road.
Unknown Number: We’re not far from that diner he took you to. Hurry.
Hurry. That one word sets me into panic mode. I grab my purse and run out the door. The whole time I’m driving, my crazy brain comes up with all sorts of far-fetched scenarios, but I can’t help myself. My head goes to bad places, but if I’m honest with myself, this can only really be one thing. Something must have happened between Ed and Sawyer at the wrestling tournament.
My car practically skids around the corner as I pull into their apartment complex. I throw open the door, get out, then slam it shut and am halfway up the stairs when Willow opens their door and steps out.
“Just so you know, he’s going to be pissed that I texted you.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Come in and see for yourself. He’s in the living room.” She nudges the door open for me and lets me go in first. I’m not surprised to see her sneak off down a hallway into one of the bedrooms and shut the door to give us some privacy.
I tread quietly into the apartment until I see Sawyer’s dark head cresting the back of the armchair he’s seated in while the TV plays some show on the History Channel.
“Sawyer?” My voice is low and raspy. I’m nervous about why it was Willow who asked me to come and not Sawyer.
He glances
