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“Any enemies?”
“No,” I say, finally finding my voice.
“She has an ex that’s upset with her.” He’s right. But would Jett do something like this? He’s never done an actual crime. One that could get him in real trouble. But he’s also never had someone tell him no and not be able to do anything about it.
“And who are you?” the cop asks Colt.
“I’m her husband,” he says definitively.
We continue talking to them for half an hour and give our information before they tell us we can leave. Unfortunately, Sarah is out of town, so she won’t be by for two days. But Colt called in some of his guys to come to Thibodaux and board everything up until then.
When it’s all said and done, I find myself back in Colt’s truck, sitting in silence as he drives us back to Blakes.
36
Libby’s been quiet the whole drive. After the night we had, this feels like a massive step back. She was laughing, being playful, opening up, and seemingly worry free. But now she’s closer to the Libby I met the night Tyson and I showed up and she was having a panic attack on the floor.
And I know exactly who to blame. There’s no place in the world for guys who don’t know how to be told no. And that’s exactly who Jett is. But he fucked up for the last time. You don’t mess with my wife and get away with it.
I texted Blake before heading back, letting her know what happened. Hopefully, she’ll be able to do the best friend thing and help make things better. But I’ll be damned if she’s left to do it by herself. I no longer have the ability to stay away. Though I’m not sure I ever did. Now more than ever, though, my pull to Libby is solid. Set in stone. I’ll be wherever she is.
We pull up outside the apartment at the same time Tyson is getting out of a blue sports car. Spotting us, he makes his way over as I get out of the truck.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. He was home when I left this afternoon.
“Had some taste testing to do here in town, but figured I’d come see Blake while I was here.” Taste testing is code for seeing a girl. He has a lot of code words for it. It’s pointless though. Everyone knows what he’s doing.
“Of course you did.” I don’t judge him for the things he does, they’re just not things I would do. I can’t imagine being with woman after woman, sometimes going back to the one previously. Weaving through them the way he does. Luckily, I’ve met my forever girl. So no more meaningless nights. Mine will only ever be filled with Libby.
“How’d your date go?” He wiggles his brows and I immediately want to punch him. Libby is in the middle of panicking in my truck, and I’m not one to gossip, no matter what the circumstances are.
“Someone broke into the salon the girls work at,” I say, not willing to give him details for the better part of our night.
Tyson’s nostrils flare. “What do you mean, someone fucking broke into the salon?”
I take a few steps away from the truck, so there’s no chance of Libby hearing the details again. “They trashed the place. Busted windows, destroyed shelving, tools, mirrors, everything.”
“Who the fuck was it?”
“The cops don’t know yet, but I have a feeling it was the douchebag she was with before,” I say, keeping my voice low. The thought of him touching anything that belongs to Libby nearly sets me off, but my anger has no place in this situation. I just need Libby to be okay.
“Jett?” His rage intensifies. “Why do you think that?”
“Whoever did it wrote ‘whore’ on Libby’s mirror. None of the others had writing on them.”
“That guy is a fucking dead man,” he says and starts to walk away only to shout, “fuck! I don’t have a car here. Give me your keys.”
“Not a chance. I need to get Libby inside. She’s in bad shape.”
“You have Libby in there? Why didn’t you say something?” It’s hard to know if he’s more worried about her potentially overhearing him talk about his taste testing or another, non-selfish reason.
We make our way to her side of the truck, and I open the door. The sight of her sitting there, motionless and defeated, breaks my heart. This isn’t the Libby I had a few hours ago. This isn’t my Libby. I need her back. And I’ll do anything to make that happen — for her sake and for mine.
“Hey Libs,” I say. She looks over at me and then to Tyson.
“Hey Little Bird. You look good.” The amount of restraint it takes to not lay into him about watching his mouth is impressive, but I’m not going to add to what Libby has going on.
“Ready to go in?” Those beautiful eyes make their way back to me and she gives a small nod. “Okay baby, let’s get you inside.”
