Page 57 of Easy On Me

I froze. Something slammed into the side of the house again, close to the bedroom window. Fear spiked up my neck, but I forced air into my lungs, calming my brain, forcing focus.

“Maggie!” Noah’s voice rang out, like the windows and the blinds weren’t even there. “I know you’re home. Let me in the damn house.”

“That asshole.” I scrambled off the bed and stalked to the kitchen for my phone, where I’d left it on charge. He was not going to make Maggie afraid.

Eying the door, I stomped back to the bedroom, phone in hand, the familiar buzz of the live view from the security app filling the room.

Bam.

Another hit to the wall. “Maggie!”

I activated the microphone in the camera above the front door.

“Hey, asshole,” I snarled, glaring at his image. “Get in your piece of shit truck and go before I call the cops.”

“Bitch.” Something clattered on the front porch. I knelt next to Maggie, tilting the phone so she could see Noah standing on the porch, sneering as he directed his middle finger at the camera. “I ain’t going nowhere. Maggie, open the fucking door.”

“He’s wasted.” I pushed Maggie’s phone at her. “Call 911.”

An arm wrapped over her stomach, she dialed. I watched as Noah pounded on the wall next to the door, yelling.

“My ex is on my front steps, beating on the door.” Her voice shaking, Maggie’s words spilled in a rush. “He won’t leave. He’s been drinking.”

I looked from the phone to the bedroom door. Noah took two steps back and lunged at the door, slamming his shoulder into it. His drunk stumble weakened the hit.

“My friend is with me.” The front door rattled in its frame. Maggie cringed, burrowing into me. That motherfucker. I scanned the room. Where were Maggie’s golf clubs? I would lay his ass out. A muffled voice came from Maggie’s phone, a question I couldn’t decipher. “No.”

I wound our fingers together, my gaze glued to the camera feed. Noah slammed his palms against the door, screaming filthy names.

That muffled voice again, and a radio blipped.

“Thank you,” Maggie whispered. Maybe I should run to the kitchen, grab a knife from the block, but that would mean leaving Maggie alone and–

On screen, two cars, red and blue lights sparking, slid to a stop at the curb. They’d gotten here fast. An officer bailed out of each one and jogged across the lawn.

“Motherfucking bitch.” Noah slapped the door once more. He turned to face the cops, chest puffed out. “I ain’t done nothing, man. This crazy, fucking bitch–”

“Step over here.” The taller of the two officers waved toward the lawn. Noah stumbled down the steps. Even with him yelling, his words and the officers’ replies were unintelligible through the camera feed. Maggie clung to me, shaking. Oh, he needed his ass whipped for this.

One of the cops reached for his belt, and Noah exploded, swinging. The two officers took him down, one planting a knee in the middle of his back once he lay facedown in the grass. With more yelling and struggling, he ended up in the back of one of the patrol cars.

Maggie shuddered under a shallow exhale, phone pressed to her ear.

“Yes.” Sluggish, Maggie eased off the bed like slogging through mud, and I scrambled after her. I gripped her hand, keeping her steady as she stumbled into the foyer to open the door. Her phone beeped with the dropped 911 call.

She released my hand to cling to the door, keeping it between her and the yard while she peered up at the cop on the porch. I edged closer, ready to push by her and take charge if the guy took up an attitude with her. Maggie’s fingers trembled where she clutched the slab.

Small tremors running over her body, Maggie answered the cop’s questions – her name, my name, how we knew Noah, had there been any incidents before tonight. She blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering before her tears spilled free. She swiped her knuckle under both eyes, and I stepped even closer, rubbing her back, the same way she’d rubbed mine at dinner earlier as I’d cried over Jase.

“So tonight, Mr. Bradshaw is under arrest for public intoxication and resisting arrest.” The cop scribbled on the back of a business card and extended it toward Maggie. “You can pick up a copy of the report tomorrow and use that to request a protective order. The petition for that would need to be filed through the Superior Court Clerk’s Office.”

“Thank you.” Maggie clutched the card. I swallowed a scoff. File for a protective order? Like a piece of paper could keep her safe.

Maybe I’d move in with her, since I was leaving Jase. I’d keep both her and my little boy safe.

“He won’t be able to bond out until at least the morning, so you don’t have to worry about him tonight.” He lifted a finger in farewell and turned away.

I watched him walk to his patrol car, aware of Maggie’s stricken expression. She didn’t have to worry tonight.