No Strings Attached

Chapter Fifteen

I hold the phone to my ear, my eyes glued to the man swaying side-to-side on the bottom step.

"Scarlett?" Giovanni asks curiously through the phone. I don't know what to do.

Dixon rubs his hands on his pants in a nervous gesture, the same ones he was in earlier this week. I swallow, licking my lips in fear.

"I'm going to have to call you back," I whisper softly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry to come here like this. I don't... I don't want to scare you," Dixon says to me.

"Who is that?" Giovanni questions into my ear.

"You need to leave," I say out loud, hanging up the phone when Dixon begins to move closer to me. "Right the fuck now, or I'm calling the cops."

"I just came t-to see you."

He's drunk. He's really fucking drunk.

My phone rings in my hand.

"I told you I was done. I told you to leave me alone. I warned you!" My eyes flicker to the door to the building, wishing Rog could come towards the door.

"I know. I know."

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm not. I'm not!"

"You are!"

"I had one drink! One!"

"Oh, that's such fucking bullshit!" I snap.

The phone blares again in my hand. I look down.

"Who is that?" Dixon slurs tiredly. I answer it, holding it up to my ear silently.

"Put him on the phone," Giovanni demands.

I inhale loudly, nervously. "I don't—"

"Scarlett, do it."

Oh my god. I bite my lip as I step forward, holding out my phone. Dixon looks at it, brows warped in confusion.

"Answer it," I snap. He grabs the phone, nearly stumbling down the steps. I back up, moving out into the sidewalk. There's a couple walking across the street, but other than that, we're alone out here.

He puts it to his ear, his bright eyes rolling back into his skull. "Hello?"

After a few moments of silence, I watch Dixon's face contort with anger, and I prepare myself to run past him into the building.

"You...you don't fucking know me, man! You think you can threaten—"

He stops mumbling. My heart stops too. Giovanni's voice rises. I can hear it from here. He's not yet shouting, but he's loud.

Within seconds—it happens so fast—Dixon's slammed my phone down into the concrete as hard as he fucking can. It shatters, pieces scattering over the sidewalk. I jump back when he rushes down the steps, holding onto things for support.

He is mumbling to himself angrily, storming by me like he doesn't even know I'm there. I don't wait to see where he goes when he's passed. I bend down quickly, searching the sharp pieces of my cell to find my SIM card. When I get it, I sprint up the steps, entering and slamming the door to the building as fast as I can.

I can't believe this is happening again.

"Scarlett, are you alright?"

I'm panting with fear. "My ex-husband. He was waiting outside."

Rog's eyes widen. He knows about Dixon. He was on duty the night the cops arrived six months ago. "What? Outside? Is he still there?"

I shake my head, resting my SIM card on the desk.