Girl Next Door - The Complete Series (10 page)

My decision made, I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone. I scrolled through my contact list to Aidan’s name, and listened to the phone ring. Three rings later, Aidan picked up.

“Nat?”

“Yeah. What’s up? I got your text.”

Aidan was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he did not sound too happy. “Where in the hell did you go this morning? I went out to get donuts and came back to find you gone.”

Even though I wasn’t as sharp as usual, I came up with a pretty good excuse. “I woke up and didn’t feel so hot. I came home to shower and lay in my own bed for a while. I was sleeping so hard, I guess I didn’t hear the phone.”

Again, Aidan was silent. I waited, refusing to babble, because I knew he would catch on to the lie if I seemed guilty.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

Aidan growled. “Take off like that.”

Um, what?

“Aidan, I left you a note. I explained I wasn’t feeling well and came home. I just wanted to be in my own bed.”

“I don’t care, Nat. If you wanna be in your own bed, that’s fine, but at least do me the courtesy of telling me in person that you’re going home.”

I rolled my eyes. Jeez, what was the big deal? I was pretty sure fuck buddies didn’t act like this.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll tell you to your face next time. Now, I’ve got a friggin’ headache from hell and I just want to chill out by the pool for the rest of day and recover.”

Again, silence from Aidan. This was beginning to annoy me. I spoke first. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I phrased this as a question, but it really wasn’t.

“I’ll be over for dinner. I’ll bring burgers.”

Oh, no. I needed a day or two to myself to gain that extremely necessary emotional distance.

“I don’t think so, Aidan. I don’t really feel like company.”

I could feel an unhappy vibe through the phone. “Fine, but I will be coming over tomorrow. We’ll go to brunch.”

I almost told him no, but I didn’t want him to realize something was wrong. I wanted things to feel natural and easy when they ended. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be either of those things, but I didn’t want to be Aidan’s crazy neighbor woman that turned a simple, casual agreement into a nightmare.

“Okay.”

Aidan accepted my answer with a grunt. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

He disconnected. I put my phone on the nightstand and rolled over onto my back. This was not good.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between brooding, watching TV, and texting Cat. Apparently, she had come through last night with only a minor hang over and she was very smug about her meddling skills. I didn’t tell her about Anya’s visit, or any of the stuff I had decided that morning. She wouldn’t get it. Why I thought I could spend every night with Aidan for a week straight, talking, laughing, and also having fantastic sex, and
not
get attached, I do not know. Still, I had naively convinced myself I could handle it, and told Aidan the same.

Therefore, I was taking a step back and handling it before moving on. While Jack’s attempt at cheating with my best friend stung, me getting attached to a guy who made no pretense of returning the feeling
would leave me bleeding. It also reminded me of all the women I knew who tried the whole fuck buddy thing, thinking that they could change the guy’s mind after they’d had sex a few times. I was not like most women. I understood that to some men, sex was just a biological function, no emotion involved. They like uncomplicated, straightforward physical relationships and didn’t like messy emotions getting involved. As long as a man was honest about what he really wanted out of the relationship, and both parties agreed at the start, I thought it was perfectly acceptable and that the women who blithely believed that they could change the man’s mind were living in a fantasy world. I
did not
want to become one of them. Especially since I knew better.

Saturday ended with me in my comfiest, most ragged t-shirt, and a pair of lavender lacy panties. I liked sexy underwear, even if I was the only one to see it, so I wore it all the time. I liked feeling as though I had a secret that only I knew. I was sprawled on my bed at midnight, watching a scary movie on the TV in my bedroom. The first time I heard the floorboard creak, I thought my fevered imagination was conjuring it up. Horror flicks always did that to me, every time. Why I always ended up watching them, I do not know. I guess I was just perverse like that.

The second time I heard the floorboard creak, I knew it wasn’t my imagination. My body immediately stiffened and broke out into a cold sweat. As quietly as possible, I climbed out of bed, crouching down behind it, so I couldn’t be seen from my bedroom door. Then, also as silently as possible, I opened my nightstand and removed my Browning 9 mm. I wasn’t lying to Jack when I said I owned a gun. I also knew how to use it. I tried to get to the range for target practice a couple of times a month. Not only was it relaxing, but it kept my marksmanship skills sharp. I believed single women should be able to look after themselves, and this extended beyond basic home repairs and car maintenance. It included being able to defend myself.

I peeked over the top of my bed, the TV giving off enough low light for me to see the doorway. I heard another noise, a footstep. It was close to my room. The blood in my veins literally felt as though it had turned to ice. My stomach clenched. I would absolutely
not
mess my pants, though I was so scared I wanted to. This is where I should have grabbed my home phone and dialed 911. However, I did not do this. No, no, no. Me and my smartass mouth had to have our say.

“Whoever you are, I am armed. If I see even a fingertip, I can and will shoot it off. You need to leave.”

I held my breath. I was peering over the top of my mattress, hoping I wouldn’t have to put bullet holes in the pretty sage green walls in my bedroom. All movement and noise stopped. Only the low sound of the TV and dim light from the screen filled the room. I realized I was still holding my breath and slowly let it out. I was just beginning to relax and believe that the intruder had taken the smart choice and left, when I heard a voice. A very familiar and annoying voice.

“Nat?”

It was the stupid fucking asshole, Jack. I was beyond pissed, beyond fury, beyond rage. Whatever emotion overwhelmed these,
that’s
what I was feeling. I popped up from behind my bed, snapped on the lamp and put my gun on the nightstand.

“Jack, what the fuck?” I asked.

I saw Jack’s messy hair, puffy red face, and disheveled clothes come through my bedroom door and immediately became wary. He looked rough and not in a sexy bad boy way. This was more of a homeless man look, and it wasn’t pretty.

I continued. “You scared the hell out of me. How exactly did you get in here?”

Jack smiled, but I failed to see the humor. “Nat, you still leave your key taped to the bottom of your back doormat.” So much for my belief that intruders wouldn’t look under the back mat. He stepped further into the room, looking at me intently. “Now, we really do need to talk.”

I took a deep breath, glad I had put my gun on the nightstand. If it had still been in my hand, I probably would have blown him away and gone to prison for manslaughter, maybe second degree murder. At the very least, attempted murder.

“Jack, I don’t really know what else we have to say to each other. You made a bad decision, you got caught and tried to lie your way out of it. I have tried to be nice about this, but apparently you only understand words spoken in the language of bitch, so here goes,” I paused for effect. “We are done, over, finished. Anything you have to say is completely unimportant to me. I don’t care about you and I honestly don’t care if any of this hurts your feelings. I’m seeing someone right now, and I gotta tell you, he’s definitely better in bed, and also better looking.”

Jack’s face turned an extremely dark shade of red, almost purple, and I realized that my last comment was beyond over the top. It was so over the top it was almost on the moon. Obviously Jack wasn’t feeling too rational if he had snuck into my house in the middle of the night, so perhaps goading him wasn’t the best idea.

He stalked towards me, his hands clenched into fists. “I gave you time to cool down after the whole scene with Cat. I figured you’d need a few weeks before you would be willing to forgive me, but, Nat, you said you loved me. When you love someone, you don’t toss them aside and start fucking someone else in less than a month. You forgive and work things out.” He was skirting the bed now, getting way too close.

I shifted closer to my phone. Why in the hell hadn’t I called 911 earlier? If I had, the cops would be here by now, and I wouldn’t be cornered in my bedroom by a completely insane and hugely stupid ex-boyfriend. “Jack, just so we’re clear, you said you loved me, too. You also don’t try to make out or have sex with the best friend of the person you love. You keep your lips, hands, and dick to yourself, unless you’re with the woman you
claim
to love. So, if you want to play this fucked up blame game, you need to take a long hard look in the mirror before you start insinuating that I am in the wrong here. As far as I’m concerned, we broke up a month ago, which leaves me free to date or fuck whomever I want.”

Jack stopped a couple feet away. He blinked and a look I did not like slid over his face. His eyes started burning with a light that told me he had gone over the edge in a very scary way, but the rest of his face was perfectly blank. Only those eyes gave his craziness away. I backed up another step and bumped into the wall by my nightstand. I had realized he was beginning to reach stalker level obsession, but I never thought he would go this far. I wanted to reach for my gun, but he was too close. If he saw my intention, he’d be on top of me before I could get a shot off.

“Okay, Natalie. I can see I need to convince you to forgive me.” He reached into his pocket and I felt every fiber of muscle in my body tense. He pulled out a set of shiny hand cuffs. Then, he reached into his other pocket and came up with a handful of zip ties.

Not only had every muscle in my body tightened, but I felt my tummy twist and I fought the urge to vomit. It was clear Jack had plans that involved restraining me before he “convinced” me to forgive him. If his current loony behavior was any indication of his intent, I did not want to find out how he intended to encourage my forgiveness.

I stalled, trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of this completely fucked up situation. “Jack, I don’t understand. It’s obvious that I wasn’t what you really wanted, otherwise, why would you hit on Catherine? You knew how I felt about you and you also knew how I felt about cheaters. If you really wanted me, why risk it?”

Jack tossed the zip ties on the bed and held the handcuffs in his right hand. “I couldn’t help myself, Nat. She was standing there, in her skimpy outfit, smiling at me, flirting with me, and I just didn’t think. I didn’t think you would ever know. I mean, it was obvious she wanted it, why would she tattle to you?”

I gaped at him for a second. The fucked up shit coming out of his mouth could not be believed. Was he really serious? “Jack, just because a woman smiles at you and tries to converse with you, regardless of what she’s wearing, doesn’t mean she wants to do you. What are you, twelve? Jeez, get out of middle school already.” Yes, me and my smartass mouth were at it again.

Jack lunged forward and backhanded me with his left hand. My head snapped to the side and I saw spots. Ouch. I felt the hand cuff bracelet click around my left wrist and I realized I was less than ten seconds away from being trussed up and at Jack’s mercy. When he grabbed my right wrist, I twisted my hand to grab his forearm for a wrist lock I’d learned in self-defense class a very, very long time ago. He didn’t seem affected, so obviously I needed to revisit self-defense, but he did have to release my arm. One thing I remembered from class was to go for the vulnerable spots, so I twisted my upper body and put as much of my weight as possible behind my right elbow and I aimed for his nose.

My elbow made contact and I heard a snapping sound and blood started coming from Jack’s nose. Shit, that hurt like a sonovabitch. I only hoped that sound was Jack’s nose breaking and not my arm. I immediately followed up with a knee to his groin. He stumbled, but didn’t go down. Oh, shit. I tried to turn and run for the bedroom door, hoping I’d bought enough time to escape. However, I forgot about the handcuff attached to my left wrist and Jack used it to jerk me back toward him. I crashed into the nightstand, the sharp corner digging into my lower back. I put my right hand out to steady myself and felt the butt of the gun. Great, all those hours of self-defense class and target practice and I totally forgot about the one weapon I had that might help me win this fight.

I gripped the gun and tried to aim for Jack’s kneecap. Unfortunately, Jack was jerking my left arm so hard, that my right hand moved and my first shot ended up in his foot. He screamed and let go of my arm. I saw his right hand fly up, but, this time, instead of backhanding me, Jack used his closed fist in a roundhouse punch. The right hook caught me on the same cheek as the backhand and knocked me onto the floor. Panicked, I raised my gun, aiming for the largest body mass, which would have been his torso. However, the punch had blurred my vision, so when I pulled the trigger, the bullet tore through the outside of Jack’s thigh, upwards into his ass. This time he went down. We were both lying on the floor and I lashed out hard and fast, not even thinking, and smashed the gun butt against his temple. He stared at me blankly for a moment before his eyes closed and his body went limp.

Panting, and I would realize later, whimpering, I scooted away from him on my ass, holding the Browning up with a shaky hand, ready to squeeze the trigger if he even jerked. I used my left hand, still attached to Jack’s freaking heavy arm, to reach up and grab my phone off the nightstand and dialed 911. I gave my name and address to the operator and explained what had happened. During this, Jack moaned and his head rolled to the side. I froze. His eyes didn’t open, but I realized that he might come to before the cops got there. So, I put the phone on the nightstand, ignoring the dispatcher’s calls for me to talk to her, and grabbed a couple zip ties from the bed. I would have loved to use the handcuffs, but one of the bracelets was still around my wrist and I wasn’t about to search Jack’s pockets for the key without securing him first.