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With tears running down her face, Charlie sat with her back to the headboard staring at the bedroom door. More so, the doorknob in case it turned. “Someone threw a brick through the window downstairs’,” she repeated.

“Where are you now?”

“Locked in the bedroom.”

Snapping his fingers he got Razor’s attention, who was already on his phone. “I’m on my way. Don’t touch the brick and call the cops. Wait, don’t call the cops.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t call the cops. I’ll call them when I get there.” The last thing he needed would be some cop snooping around his house while he wasn’t there. After all, they already knew he had apellet gun, and that would be enough for them to get nosey. “I’m calling the clubhouse. Someone will be there soon.” Hemlock saw Razor pointing at his own phone.

“Truck and Vicious are on their way there now. ETA five minutes,” Razor informed him, which Hemlock relayed to Charlie as he headed for the door.

“Stay on the phone with me.”

Could they get through more than a week without something bad happening? First it was the tire being slashed, then the mystery person messing with his rides. Now, some asshole had thrown a fucking brick through his window. What was next?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hemlock arrived ten minutes after Truck and Vicious who had already cleared his house of all weapons. Vicious and Truck rolled out of the driveway with the bikes thundering through the quiet streets as Hemlock called the cops. He was never so thankful that his neighbors didn’t care that he was a biker.

When the cops arrived, he let them inside. The last thing expected was for Charlie to make it a social visit. She asked the cops if they’d like to have a seat and offered them sodas, coffees, a bottle of water. When she looked over at him, he saw her acknowledge the look on his face. He stood staring at her like she’d lost her mind. He didn’t want them there any longer than necessary. All he could think was next she’d ask if they wanted cake or some shit.

After he and Charlie told the cops about all the strange things that had been happening, they thanked the officers and waved as they drove away. Ten minutes later, Truck showed up with wood to board up the window.

“Tell us what happened again and start at the beginning,” Hemlock and Truck asked Charlie at the same time. Neither manmissed the look of annoyance on her face. They listened as she started from when she got home.

As she started the story they stopped her. “When you pulled up did you see any vehicles that seemed out of place?”

Charlie thought about the question. The only car she thought was different was at the neighbor’s house across the street. “I thought the car looked out of place. The couple that lives there has a minivan. They’re also on vacation until next week. I thought maybe it was one of their kids checking on the place. Even another neighbor using their driveway for guests,” her voice cracking with frustration.

“What did the car look like?” Hemlock asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He wasn’t mad at Charlie; his anger was directed at the person or persons targeting him.

Charlie sighed as she thought about the automobile. “It was a non-descript white car. Four doors with dark tinted windows.” Shrugging, that was the only things she remembered.

“How long from when you came home until you heard the first noise?” Truck knew the entire situation was wearing on both Charlie and Hemlock. The difference was his brother couldn’t find it in himself to place the blame for everything that happened against her. Hemlock would carry the blame until proven wrong.

“An hour,” Charlie snapped.

Truck raised an eyebrow. “They gave you time to come in and get ready for bed before launching their attack.”

Deep down Charlie knew it was Crispen and Ashley. She just didn’t know why. They had the apartment she was paying for,and she paid for the utilities. They’d even stolen her one prize possession. Her mother’s necklace. What else could they want from her?

Months, she had mire months, and the lease would be up, and she’d be free. The whole thing ate at her. Sitting on the sofa, she stared at the ceiling going over everything that had happened since finding Crispen and Ashley together. The attacks by Ashley, the locking her out of her own apartment. Them destroying her clothes and taking her jewelry. What was the point of all of it? Was it all for kicks? Is this how they got their jollies? “Were they trying to get inside?” she asked out loud.

Truck looked at Hemlock, seeing his mood was spiraling down the drain, he spoke, “You were smart to hit the alarm button on the car.”

Charlie sat up, curling her legs under herself she pulled one of the large throw pillows to her chest. “I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”

Truck nodded listening to her. He could see Charlie, like Hemlock, was dealing with the situation in two different ways. Where Hemlock was struggling with his anger. Charlie was stoic. She appeared to have reconciled herself to accepting these events as part of her life. “You’re still thinking it’s your ex and his bitch.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Charlie knew she should be more emotional, but she was worn out from everything that had been happening. “If it isn’t them, then who could it be?”

“Let’s break things down. Since you’ve moved into Hemlock’s the only things that have happened other than tonight havebeen someone snooping around the cars and the car tire being slashed,” Truck said as he thought about the different things that had happened in the last few months.

“Oh my God!” She turned facing Hemlock. “I thought the tire was just flat. Not slashed.”

Hemlock looked at Truck. “Thanks, brother.”