Page 144 of Prickly Pair
Yeah. I’ll be there in just a second
Despite the situation, I snorted and tucked my phone away. We stepped out onto the back porch, heat immediately chasing away the cool air inside. The sun burned high above, and aside from the bugs buzzing around us, we were alone and it was quiet.
I sized Phil up. I could take him if I needed to, of course, and after dealing with all of his harassment, I wasthis closeto punching him.
“Who are you?” I asked. “I don’t think Phil is your real name. I also don’t think you’re a real collector.”
“Of course—of course I am,” he sputtered.
I really didn’t think he was. Last night, I spent about eight hours deep-diving into debt collector scams. In all the calls and emails and shit I’d gotten from this worm over the years, there’d never been official paperwork mailed to any of our houses. And I’d waded through a lot of fucking mail since Dad died.
This reminded me of something that’d happened in our little town about six years ago. An elderly woman had passed away in Whynot, and her husband had been scammed out of fifty thousand dollars. It’d been awful.
Could this fucker be the same person who did that to them? What if he was specifically targeting folks in our town? The phone number he always called me from had an Odessa area code. Maybe he’d been hanging around a lot longer than I’d realized.
Unlucky for him, I was thinking clearly now. It, unfortunately, turned out that rest, food, and talking through my problems left me more energy to deal with my problems.
God, I hated it when other people were right about shit.
“Where’s the paperwork?” I asked.
“I can give it to you,” he said. “But you should just go ahead and pay?—”
I narrowed my eyes on him, and his words fell silent. “And how do you want me to pay, Phil? Debit card?”
He crossed his arms, attempting to give me his most menacing look. “I mean, that would work. A prepaid card, a wire transfer.”
“Mm. Of course,” I said, nodding slowly. “A wire transfer. Right. What’s your agency name again?”
“Well, don’t you know? Haven’t you gotten my countless emails and phone calls and . . .”
I stepped closer to him, my expression sharpening. His eyes went wide. “Have you been watching my family?” I asked. “Have you been stalking them?”
“Just finding out information,” he said, his brows pulling together. “A few harmless photos.”
My blood started to boil. “Show them to me.”
“They’re harmless?—”
“Pull out your fucking phone and show me the photos.Now.”
Phil’s hands shook as he reached for his phone, pulling it out. I stood over him, my heart thrashing as he unlocked his phone, opened a folder, and countless photos flashed before my eyes.
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
I was going to kill this guy. Rage rolled through me when I saw Evie, Matthew, Nick. All three of them, going to and from each other’s houses, from my house.
And my sister.
Levi. Mateo.
Dallas, June, and Madi.
My mother.
My fist was swinging before he could blink. I hit him square in the nose hard enough for his head to snap back. He stumbled, screaming as he clutched his nose. His phone clattered to the deck and I swooped down, picking it up. My entire body trembled as rage, but I heard the sirens.Thank god.
