When You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,72
slowly that I wanted to kick something.
“I’m not worried. That door’s more solid than a brick wall.”
“And call the police too, okay?”
“Already did.”
Dylan’s gaze was trained on me. As soon as I hung up, he said, “I heard everything. Come on. Let’s go.”
“I can go by myself. You should go to bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Mel, I’m coming with you. End of story.”
“Thank you. Let’s go.”
On the drive to Dad’s house, I couldn’t stop fretting. I kept twisting my hands in my lap, right until Dylan clasped one of them. His touch calmed me almost immediately. By the time we reached Dad’s house, I felt so much stronger than right after the phone call.
But all that strength seemed to go down the drain when I saw Elliot pacing in front of the house. There was no sign of the police. Dylan put an arm around my shoulders after we got out of the car, and we walked toward the front door together.
Elliot froze when he saw us. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“This is my dad’s house,” I said calmly.
“I know. And I’m here to pick up some stuff I couldn’t carry last time.”
I drew in a deep breath, trying to keep my calm. It took me a few seconds to realize Dylan had already lost his. He’d grabbed Elliot by the collar.
“You fucking moron. She gave you all her savings, and you dare show your face?” Dylan bellowed.
“Fuck off, man. You’re not in my position. My business is bleeding money again. I need every dollar I can get for all the shit I gave her. If I hadn’t wasted three years with her, I would’ve made something of myself.”
My eyes instantly started to burn, but I was determined not to let him get to me. I was stronger now than when I broke up with him.
“If it makes you feel better to put your failures on me, I don’t care. But don’t you dare bother my dad. I’m getting a restraining order.”
“Like hell you will. No judge will give you that. You fucking—”
Dylan punched him the next second. Elliot stumbled backward, holding his cheek. “What the hell? Who do you think you are?”
Dylan stepped closer, and Elliot practically cowered into the wall. “The man who sees in her everything you were stupid enough not to appreciate. I’m only going to say this once. Restraining order or not, if you ever show your face around here, that black eye you’ll have tomorrow will be the least of your problems.”
“You think you’re hot shit because you’re wearing an expensive suit?” Elliot asked, but I could tell he was just trying to keep up the bravado.
“Don’t test me more than you already have.” Dylan leaned into him, and Elliot nearly fainted into a puddle. He was such a coward, and I was so damn pissed.
He looked over my shoulder. A police car parked behind Dylan’s BMW. Finally. It was the same police officer who took Dad’s testimony the first time around. I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking why it took him so long to show up when he came up to us.
He glanced at the scene, shaking his head. “Ms. Dawson, did this man attempt a forced entry again?”
“I didn’t touch that damn door,” Elliot said.
“But he’s been in front of Dad’s house for over an hour, consistently ringing the doorbell. Does that count toward anything for the restraining order?”
The police officer nodded. “I’m going to write that up, and based on my experience, it will help your lawyer build up a case.”
“What the fuck?” Elliot exclaimed.
“And you have to leave these premises at once, or you’re coming with me,” the officer said calmly.
“On what charge?”
“Disturbing the peace.”
Elliot swore, spitting on the ground before turning around and walking away briskly.
The officer went over to his car, filling out a report. I immediately took Dylan’s hand in mine, inspecting his knuckles. They were red.
“Is it hurting?” I whispered.
“If I say yes, will you take care of it? Thoroughly?” he teased. His smile was playful, but his gaze was still intense.
I kissed his jaw, shrugging.
“Very thoroughly. That’s a promise.”
He put his other hand around my waist, keeping me close. This man’s protective streak was going to be my kryptonite.
The officer left after handing me his report, and then Dylan and I went inside the house. Dad was in the living room with headphones, listening to one of his YouTube videos. He took the headphones off when he