Now I was pissed. “You fucking asshole.” I threw my palm up and hit him in the nose, breaking it. I could hear it crack like a firecracker.
I pushed him down to the floor, on his back like before. This time, I yanked my computer charger off the table and quickly wrapped it around his wrists, making a knot like I learned when it was twelve.
He moaned incoherently, his words rambling out.
I pulled out my phone and called 9-1-1 on speed dial. “Enjoy your time in the slammer, bitch face.”
The police conducted their investigation, but there wasn’t much to look into. It was pretty clear what happened.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Officer Dean pressed.
“Really, I’m fine.” My eye was swollen shut, and my lip kept bleeding. “My only problem is being hideous for a few days.”
He didn’t crack a smile. “I still strongly suggest it.”
“Trust me, I’ve had worse.” This was nothing compared to what I was used to. I’d broken my ribs twice, and there was a metal plate in my skull. It was such a bitch going through airport security.
“That doesn’t sound good.” He put his notepad in his holster. “The locksmith won’t be here until tomorrow. You have somewhere to stay tonight?”
“Yeah.” I’d slept on Christopher’s couch before. It was pretty comfortable. “Thank you, Officer Dean.”
“Of course, Ms. Moretti.” He nodded before he stepped away.
When I looked at the front door, I saw Calloway walk inside. With his eyes as big as melons, he walked in and saw the messy scene before him. My stuff was in disarray, and the burglar was cuffed and ready to be escorted out by the police. Finally, his eyes moved to my face, and he saw the blood and bruises. “What the fuck happened?” He charged me like he was about to knock me down. He cupped my face and looked straight at my injuries, his jaw stern with ferocity. “Rome.” His hands moved to my shoulders, and he squeezed me so hard it actually hurt.
“I’m okay.” I watched the police take the assailant away, his black mask now removed. They marched him out, and I was grateful he was gone. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was certainly afraid of what Calloway would do to him. “This guy robbed my apartment, but he didn’t take anything.”
“Did he hit you?”
“When I saw him inside, we got into it. He hit me a few times before I broke his nose and pinned him to the floor. Then the police arrived and arrested him. So everything is fine. Honestly, it looks worse than it feels.”
He dragged his hands down his face, a vein throbbing in his forehead. He looked like he was about to scream at the top of his lungs. He took a deep breath to steady himself but that didn’t dim his anger. “You knew he was inside, and you came in anyway?”
“I was robbed last year, and it really sucked. I wasn’t going to let someone take my shit again. Last time, they got my Michael Jordan—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He got in my face again, screaming. “You don’t go inside. Rome, he could have killed you.”
“I wasn’t afraid of him.”
“That’s not the fucking point.” He threw his arms down, furious. “He could have had a gun or a knife.”
“Well, I’m protecting my shit.”
“Is your shit worth your life?” His hands balled into his fists until his knuckles turned white.
“No. But I’m not letting anyone think they can scare me. If you cross me, I’m coming after you. That’s the point.”
He dragged his hands down his face again.
“Nothing happened. I kicked his ass, and the police took him away.”
“But it could have turn out completely different, and you know it. Why didn’t you just wait in the hall and call the cops.”
“Because he could have run down the fire escape.”
Calloway walked away and started pacing the room, shaking the floorboards with his heavy footsteps. He was about to explode again, yelling in my face and calling me a goddamn lunatic.
I admit my actions weren’t the smartest, but I wasn’t thinking in the moment. I just reacted. I’d learned to fight a long time ago, and I didn’t see a problem using my skills when they mattered. “I’m sorry I upset you, but the past is in the past. Move on.”
He turned back to me, his eyes burning holes in my skin. “Pack your shit. You’re staying with me.”
“They’ll fix the door tomorrow. It’s not a big deal.”
“You. Are. Staying. With. Me.”
I wasn’t a fan of the bossiness—not like this. “I’ll just stay at Christopher’s. It’s fine.” I knew Calloway didn’t want me to sleep over, and I really didn’t want to be invited just because I had nowhere else to stay.