Love Her Wilde

Not So Welcome Home: Dylan

"I'm calling the police," Shayne stated. I could tell by his breathing that he was already making his way to me. "Do you have pepper spray or something?"

"I doubt they're still here."

"You fucking know damn well who it is, Dylan."

I jumped as I heard his car door slam in the background. "You think Brock did this?"

"You don't?"

"I don't know. He's never gone this far before..."

"Dylan, come on," Shayne interrupted. "You just paraded another man in his face for the last ten days and you made it no secret that you were at least anticipating boning at some point."

"We didn't actually have sex."

"Yeah, I'm sure the fact that you only swallowed Ash's cock made Brock's rage much calmer, you moron. Call Dad, tell him to come to us. I'm calling the cops."

"What are they gonna do?"

"Dylan! Stop!" Shayne shouted. "I am so sick of this shit! We are talking to the police so they can document this shit so hopefully we can put a stop to this nonsense before I find you dead on your kitchen floor, okay?"

I gulped and hung my head. "I think you're being a bit dramatic."

"Dylan, that man is off is fucking rocker. He follows you everywhere. He follows you home, to work, to the bar. Hell, he followed you to Hawaii..."

"He was invited."

"HE SHOWED UP BEFORE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO! WAKE UP!" Shayne cursed under his breath. "You need to stop just brushing his bullshit off, Dylan. This is serious and if you don't do something about it, it's only going to get worse."

"Okay. Okay. You call Dad, I'll call the police. Maybe they'll send out the lady I talked to about the restraining order, alright?"

"We're getting you a taser or a fucking gun."

"We are NOT getting me a gun. A taser might be fun though..."

"It's not for the bedroom, you kinky bitch."

I laughed, but tears were welling in my eyes. For the first time in all of the little stunts Brock had pulled, I was actually a bit scared. "Just... get here, okay?" I asked, my voice sounding choked.

"I'm like six minutes away, sweetheart. I'll be right there."

"Okay."

"Dylan, breathe. We're going to handle this."

"Okay."

"I love you. I'm sorry I yelled."

"It's okay. I've been trying to avoid all of this by ignoring it. You're right."

"Dad already texted me back. He and Noodle are on the way."

"Will you just stay on the phone with me? And we can call the police when you get here?"

"Of course, babe. Like... three minutes, unless I get pulled over. But if I do, I'll just keep going and bring em with me."

I giggled a bit at my brother. I knew he was just trying to distract me, and I appreciated it, but I would've been lying if I said that I wasn't beginning to panic.

A few hours later, I sat in my living room, my year old white and tan English bulldog in my lap. I'd talked to the police, they collected whatever they thought was evidence, which wasn't much. A tow truck had come and taken my car away, and now my dad, Stefan, and Shayne were in the kitchen fixing lunch. I played around on my phone, answering messages from my subscribers. Quite a few of them had sent tips, which eased my car stressed a bit. It's not like I was hurting for money, but four new tires and a paint job wasn't going to be cheap, so at this point, anything helped.