Page 221
“Come on, baby. Answer the fucking phone.”
It goes to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I slam my palm against the steering wheel, pain shooting through my hand. Blair should answer. She always answers me, especially after what she told me about Ben.
I call 911 with shaking hands and put the phone on speaker so I can keep driving.
“911. What’s your emergency?” the operator asks.
“My girlfriend’s violent ex is at her house,” I rush out, bile rising into my throat as I say the words aloud.
“Do you know if he’s currently inside the property?”
“I don’t fucking know. He answered her phone when her friend called.” My breathing gets heavier with every second I’m not there. “Just get someone out there. She lives at 345 Coast Road. Please, just fucking hurry.”
“Officers are on the way,” the operator assures me. “Do not enter the property if you believe the man is inside.”
I almost laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because there is no fucking universe where I’m going to sit outside while Blair is trapped in there with him.
I give the operator my details before ending the call and immediately calling Georgie.
She answers on the first ring. “Dean?”
“Where are you?” I demand.
“I’m at The Breakwater. Why?”
“Ben found Blair.”
The line goes completely silent.
“What?” G whispers.
“He answered her phone when Jerry called. Blair’s at her house.”
“Oh my God.”
“Get there, G.”
“I’m coming now,” she says, her voice shaking.
I hang up before she finishes and push the truck faster.
Blair’s street comes into view, and I immediately see her Kombi sitting in the driveway. My heart fucking stops.
“Please be okay.”
I don’t remember parking. I’m out of the truck before the engine has completely died, running toward her cottage.
Then I hear it.
Blair screaming.
Something inside me fucking snaps.
I hit the front door hard enough to send it crashing open. “GET THE FUCK OFF HER.”
Ben turns.
