Page 22 of Wreckage of Us
I shake my head, my eyes going from the phone to Colt’s shocked face and back. I can’t focus enough to form any words. What can I say anyway? That I have a crazy person sending me messages on social media even though I keep on blocking them?
“Have you gotten any other ones?” Colt asks me, but I can’t focus on his words either.
“I don’t know,” I finally say.
“What do you mean? You either got messages like this one before or you didn’t,” Colt about shoves the phone in my face.
“Okay, yeah, I did,” I confess, sounding as pathetic as I feel. It’s not like I did anything wrong though, but I feel so intimidated by what’s happening.
“Does Dylan know?” My brother surprises me with the question.
“Dylan?” I stare at him. “Why would I tell him?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “He seems like the type who could kick some ass, so he’d be the first person I’d run to if I started getting creepy messages on my phone.”
I have to say that Dylan never crossed my mind when I got these messages. Go to the police, yes.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Colt,” I assure him. What can he do anyway? He’s not even eighteen yet. He’s just my cute little brother.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks back to the screen of my phone, and starts messing with it by tapping my passcode in. We’ve always been able to get into each other’s phones.
“What are you doing?” I lift my chin a little to see what he’s up to, but he is too fast.
“Just checking on a few things,” he explains right before giving me my phone back. “Please don’t hide it if you get crazy messages again, big sister,” he elbows me teasingly.
“Roger that, little brother,” I grin at him, then drop my head on his shoulder.
I am just about to tell Colt how much I’m going to miss him, when someone knocks on our front door. In light of all this mess in my life, my heart skips a beat at hearing the sound.
“You expecting anyone?” Colt nudges me just enough to get off the couch and go to the door.
“Not at all,” I call after him, then drop my head on the back of the couch. I need a nap.
“Hi there,” I hear a feminine voice addressing Colt when he opens the door. “I hope I got the right address. Does Becca Garner live here?”
“Uh, who’s asking?”
“I just need to talk to Becca,” the woman’s voice becomes more aggressive once she figures from Colt’s hesitation that she’s at the right house.
My little brother stands his ground though. “And I just need to know who you are first.”
I get off the couch and rush to the door. I look around Colt only to come face to face with a woman I’ve never seen in my life. She is very well dressed and put together, her features in a severe scowl on her face.
“What can I help you with?” I ask, hoping that my voice sounds as firm as it does in my head. She looks like she’s here to serve me with papers.
“You are Becca Garner, I presume?” she looks me up and down.
“I am,” I confirm in fascination. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone looking me up and down with as much disdain as this woman has for me right now.
She takes a deep breath in as if to fortify herself.
“I came all the way here…”
“From where?” Colt interrupts her, and I almost start laughing at the look of surprise on her face.
“And who are you?” she asks him.
“Does it matter?” he shrugs.
