Page 4 of Protector Next Door
3
Sammy
I’m in trouble.
And it’s not because some creep left me a mystery gift on my frontporch.
It’s because Xander is stepping out of the cab, walking up to my house, and ringing mydoorbell.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Some of the words that might describe Xander in a picture? Let’s see. Hot. Sexy. Confident. Eyes full of clarity and vision, lips that would tell youexactlywhat he needs you to do and the intangible command of authority to ensure you follow his every word to aT.
But the man ringing my doorbell, sliding one hand into the pocket of his slim-cut gray trousers and pushing another through his hair, making his thick, muscular forearm flex below the rolled-up sleeve of his white button-down shirt? The man pursing his lips as his jaw ticks into a little expression of impatience and who’s leaning to the side to peer through the frosted glass window with sparkling, deep green-blue eyes that you could get lost in from ten feet away? Eyes you could get so lost in that Uber won’t pick you up because those eyes are in a zip code so dizzying that maps and GPS fail tofunction?
Thatone?
He gives me a little wave as I hop up from the chair at my kitchen island to let him in. When I open the door, I see that his hair is disheveled, his tie is crooked, and he has a rolling suitcase behind him. He’s hot. I’ve almost forgotten the envelope on the ground next tohim.
“Samantha,” he says harshly, his brows knitting together in the middle. His jaw hardens and I silently step aside in response. He steps in and I nearly whimper as he walks ahead of me. I can’t tell if he’s pissed off because I cut his trip short or if he’s just in no-nonsense workmode.
“Thank you,” I manage to squeak out. “I’msorry.”
Sometimes I really hate the way I speak. That double indebtedness - thank you,andI’m sorry? I need to grow a backbone. I don’t need to apologize. Heoffered.
“Don’t be,” he says over his shoulder, confirming my need to stand up straight. “I’m happy to do this. Have you called the cops? It’s okay if youhaven’t.”
“No, just my friendRamona.”
He squats on the floor and unzips his bag, pulling a pair of gloves and a face mask out of a little case. I watch him curiously and when he rises to his feet I put my back against the wall, moved by his toweringstance.
“You stay in here,” he says, pulling on the gloves. “I’m going to open the envelope on the porch in case there are any hazardous materialsinside.”
He fastens the mask over his mouth and nose and turns to face me. Now that I can only see his eyes I can tell he’ssmiling.
“It’s nice to see you again, by the way,” he says. “Be rightback.”
He pulls the door closed behind him and I watch intently, my fingers fumbling with the edge of my shirt as he lifts the envelope. He opens it and pulls out what looks like a stack of photographs, checks inside the envelope and then sifts through the photos. The tips of his ears are getting red and his eyes flash through the window to mine. He tugs off his mask and comes backin.
“Can we sit down and talk?” he asks. My blood goescold.
“What is it? Is it somethingbad?”
“Let’ssit.”
I bring him to the living room and push aside the beer bottles and Super NES controller on the coffee table. Plenty of adults are into gaming and there’s a big community of vintage gamers out here, but he’s going to think I’m some irresponsible enough to be drinking alone. Technically, I wasn’t! Ramona was on the phone withme!
Xander and I take a seat next to each other. He puts the envelope on the table and angles the stack of photos in his hands so I can see the first one. When I see it, my heartdrops.
“Oh no,” I whisper as my eyes take in what’s in front of me. It’s me. Me in my bedroom, from a high angle, pulling my shirt off. Xander flips to the next one. In this one I’m pulling my pants off. He flips through them faster now. They just get progressively worse. There’s nothing completely compromising, but the last photo is of my back as I reach behind me to unclasp mybra.
Xander tosses the photos on the coffee table and I stand up, squeezing my eyes shut and rubbing between my eyebrows to release some of the tension building there. This is the same feeling I had when that dumb selfie hit the internet. It took me months to feel comfortable again. Months to get to a place where I didn’t need to look over my shoulder. All of that progress has been erased in aninstant.
“Do you have any idea who would do something like this?” Xander asks as he pulls off hisgloves.
“Yeah, my ex,” I say, swiping a beer off the table and taking a sip to calm the jitter in my nerves. “He’s doing it to scare me. I guarantee this is just the beginning. If he has these, he hasmore.”
Xander stands and heads to the hallway behind the livingroom.
“Is your bedroom backhere?”
