“Strongly worded texts.” I try to play them down.
His jaw tightens as he closes the space between us, towering over me. The thing is, I am scared. Scott’s escalating texts terrify me. The urge to throw myself into Zeb’s arms is almost too hard to resist, but I do. I resist the urge to snuggle against him and bury into his embrace.
“Has he done anything physical?” His fierce stare never wavers from mine.
“Scott wouldn’t do that.” I cringe hearing the lie spill from my mouth.
“Has he ever been physical with you?”
Before I can answer his question, Zeb pulls me into a hug that feels like heaven. In Zeb’s arms, no one can hurt me. They have to get through him first, and Zeb isn’t going to let anyone hurt me.
“Are you asking if he’s hit me?” My voice comes out barely a whisper.
“Yes.” Zeb’s tone is firm. His gaze intense. He wants the truth but won’t force it.
“I don’t think Scott would hurt a fly.” I avert my gaze, unable to watch Zeb’s reaction when he realizes it’s a lie.
“You’d be surprised what men will do when they want something.” Zeb leans against the counter and absently picks up the small box delivered earlier.
He gives it a little shake, then his brows pull together. He brings the box close, turning it this way and that as if trying to decipher the contents. When he brings it to his nose, sniffing it, I can no longer hold back my curiosity.
“What are you doing?” Apprehension fills my voice, probably because I know who put the box on the stoop.
“Who’s this for?” He continues studying the box with a critical eye.
“I don’t know. It was dropped off a few minutes ago, but there’s no note attached.”
“Dropped off earlier? How much earlier?”
“Just before the second round of pizzas were delivered. Someone rang the doorbell. I thought it was the pizza guy, but there was just the box. No note, like I said. I was going to ask Barbi and Carmen if they were expecting something.”
He studies me for a long moment, completely silent, before responding. “I have a feeling they aren’t.” He picks up the box again. “More likely than not, this is meant for you.” His lips form a thin line and his eyes harden while he waits for what he says to sink in.
“How would you know?” I reach for the box, hands trembling.
For a split second, Zeb tightens his grip on the box. His body tenses as if getting ready for a fight, but then he hands the box to me.
“Because I know what’s in the box.”
“What? How?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do.” I reach for the box determined to see what’s inside.
For a split second, it looks like he’s going to snatch the box away. When I grab a knife to cut through the packing tape, Zeb shakes his head and takes a step back. His jaw is tight and he doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Remember, I warned you,” he says.
Unfortunately, my curiosity is too great. The moment I slice through the tape, the foulest odor assaults my nostrils. The pungent aroma of feces is so strong it makes me take a step back in revulsion.
Zeb grimaces and pinches his nose.
“What the…” I inch forward to see what’s inside. Sure enough someone packed up a pile of excrement and sent it to me. I stare wordlessly at Zeb, my mouth gaping in shock.
“Can I look at those texts?” Zeb sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. His expression hardens.
“Why?” My voice cracks with fear. Not to mention how surreal this feels.
“Because your ex has crossed a very important line, and I want to confirm it.”
“What does that mean?” My stomach twists with dread as I dare ask a question I don’t want answered.
“Not to scare you, but there’s a very fine line between an angry-ex and stalker behavior.” There’s a calmness to Zeb’s gaze. This is his way of warning me worse things might happen.
To my surprise, I hand Zeb my phone. There’s a weird quivering in my gut, and a growing sense of unease. I keep silent as Zeb scans through Scott’s angry texts.
I already know what he’s going to say. Barbi said it this morning. Those texts are crazy; if I don’t do something soon to pacify Scott, I worry he’ll go from stalker to something far worse.
Zeb swipes his finger across the screen. “This guy’s dangerous.” Zeb gives me back my phone.
I look at an angry text from Scott, one I haven’t yet seen. It says I need to get my shit together and go back to him. That I can’t treat him like this. More texts follow.
“Who’s dangerous?” Carmen wanders into the kitchen. “I thought the two of you got lost. We’re all waiting, and it’s going to be an amazing sunset. Ewww, what’s that smell?”
“Scott.” I haven’t had much of a chance to tell Carmen about Scott. She knows he cheated on me and that I broke things off with him. She doesn’t know about the texts, unless Barbi mentioned it.
“He sent her a box of shit.” Zeb points to the box.
“He did what?” Carmen looks at the box and scrunches her nose. “Why would he do that?’’
“Because I stopped answering his texts.” I open my phone to Scott’s texts and give them to her to read. “What am I supposed to do with this box?” I pick up the package, handling it with far more care than I did earlier. “I don’t want to put it in the trash.”
“There’s a dumpster in the back of the store down the street.” Zeb turns to me. “You got any pictures of this douchebag?”
“I do.” I take my phone and click on one of the hundreds of photos of Scott.
Zeb peers at the photo intensely, as if memorizing Scott’s face. The only emotion he shows is the storm brewing in his eyes.
“Give me the box.” I scoot the box to him and he swipes it off the table with a gruff snort of disdain. “I’ll be back.”
Without another word, Zeb is gone.
Is it weird I miss him?
“Dang.” Carmen rocks back on her heels. “That’s intense.”
“Yeah, Scott’s gone off the rails.
“I’m not talking about Scott. I’m talking about the energy swirling between you and Zeb.”
I glance at the door that Zeb just exited through and feel the sparking of electricity that seems to crackle between us fade with his departure. Although, I’m not going to admit it.
“What energy? There’s no energy.”
“Yeah, I said that about Rafe. Maybe it’s not something you can sense when it’s happening to you? Like you, I denied it at first. As for Zeb, there’s definitely something. simmering between the two of you.”
“How can you tell?” I feel the crackling energy, but I’m curious what Carmen sees.
She laughs.
“It’s not hard. You two steal glances at each other. They linger longer than an ordinary look, and you blush when he’s around. Trust me, the energy is there.”
I look away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. I don’t like the idea of being so obvious, but I can’t deny the truth behind what Carmen says.
“I hope you’re ready,” she says.