Page 58 of Say You Hate Me
“Who the fuck is that?” Anderson asks, looking behind me as I turn quickly.
My stomach drops.
32
Anderson
There’sa man glaring at Natalia through the window of my car. She pulls away from me and unbuckles her seatbelt, opening the door. I follow suit, climbing out and watching as the guy shoves a piece of paper at her. I tense.
“It’s been a week, Natalia,” he says, his voice low and angry. “I don’t want to play any more fucking games. You owe me money. Here’s an itemized list.”
Natalia’s face goes white, and it makes me walk around the side of the car. I stand protectively next to her, eyeing the douchebag on her lawn. He’s tall—nearly as tall as me. He’s edgier than I expected—black jeans, dark grey shirt, a chain wallet. I look over at Natalia, and she’s staring at the piece of the paper.
“A catcoffin?” she squeaks. “Harrison, I don’t have the money for this.”
The guy—Harrison—takes a step forward. “She’s dead because of you, Natalia.”
I hold my hands out. “Calm down.Whois dead?”
Harrison slides his brown eyes to me. “My cat.” I burst out laughing, which seems to set him off, because his jaw hardens. “She ran over my cat on our date a couple of weeks ago. She’s refusing to pay the expenses.”
Natalia shakes her head, holding the paper out. “I paid fourthousanddollars for the surgery. I thought that would be more than enough. Then there was the thirteen-thousand-dollar bill for the next two appointments. Now you want me to pay an extra thousand dollars for a coffin? I’m sorry she died, but I can’t keep hemorrhaging money. What’s next, therapy?”
My jaw clenches, and I take a step forward, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. He’s taking advantage of her—exploiting her kindness. And that pisses me the fuck off.
“You were the sole owner of the cat, correct?” I say, my voice gritty. Harrison backs up a step as I move forward.
“Yeah, man. Why?”
I shrug. “In California, the owner of a pet is responsible for any expenses incurred. With regards to an accident, if someone else is at fault, it’s still your responsibility. That’s why they ask you so many questions about the estimate when you take your pet to the vet. They are assuming you—the owner—will pay the fees.”
“But—”
I jab a finger into his chest, and he stumbles back, startled. “Now, let me make one thing very clear,” I growl. “The next time you set foot on this property, I will call the police for harassment. If you ever try to contact Natalia again,” I add, cracking my neck and then my knuckles, “I will be sure to pay you a visit.”
Harrison swallows. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, shaking his head as he looks between the two of us.
“Someone who will make sure you don’t fuck with her for another second.”
Harrison watches me with a level gaze. “She owes me money.”
“Tough shit,” I answer, shrugging. “Your whining won’t hold up in court, so feel free to try. But you should know I have the best lawyer in Los Angeles.”
Harrison glances at my watch and then my car. He doesn’t say anything. He just nods once.
“Fine.” He turns to Natalia. “Fuck you,” he mutters, before walking away.
“Oh, and I recorded our conversation, just in case you try anything funny,” I yell as he walks away, glaring at us. When I look at Natalia, she’s looking at me with a funny expression. “What?” I say, grabbing her bag from my car.
She shrugs, smiling. “Did you really record it?”
I laugh, setting her bag by her door. “Of course not. But he’s an idiot. He won’t pursue it.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I rub my mouth with my hand. “You should have an alarm system,” I add, nodding to her door. “And a sensor on every window.”
She laughs. “It’s fine, Anderson. We’re safe here—”
I take a step forward. “Until someone like him decides to pay you a visit.”
She opens and closes her mouth. “I don’t know how to install something like that,” she says quietly. “I’ll get Luca to—”
