Chapter 51

CHAPTER 51

RYLEE

I sat in the Big House, feeling a whirlwind of emotions. Should I be scared, embarrassed, or pissed? At first, I tried to suppress my tears, but when Lauren came back inside and told me that the egg-throwing-asshat bullies had beef with Simon and not me, my emotions shifted gears, and now I was livid. What the hell did I do to deserve something like this? And where did they get off deciding I was a good target for their vendetta?

"What the hell?" I vented, looking around at my friends. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this? How did they even know where I lived?"

Lauren clenched her fists. "You didn't do anything. These people are cowards, hiding behind their anger and taking it out on you because they can't get to Simon."

Jenny was still processing the whole incident, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I just can't believe it. People can be so cruel."

Mary Ellen's concern was evident in her gentle eyes. "Are you okay, Rylee? I mean, really okay?"

Karen, ever the practical one, was already thinking about next steps. "We should press charges. This is harassment. Assault."

I nodded, my anger still bubbling beneath the surface. "Yeah, maybe we should."

"We should take pictures," Lauren said. "Don't clean up any more. We need to take pictures for proof."

"We should probably check our cars as well." Mary Ellen sighed. "Egg on paint is bad news."

Karen groaned. "My car is on the street. That's where they came from."

Jenny gasped. "You're right. Shit, I should have thought of that." She grabbed her keys abruptly from the counter and dashed out of the door, headed for her own car parked just outside.

Sudden silence filled the room at her departure as though everyone's worries had suddenly increased tenfold. "I'll feel horrible if you guys got your cars egged because of me," I groaned.

"Let me handle the police. Rylee, you need to call Simon and let him know what happened."

"I already did," I admitted. "He sounded really worried. He said he was coming over."

"Well good," Karen huffed, walking back in. "He's got a security team that could be useful."

"Like how?" Mary Ellen inquired.

"Like maybe they can find out who these people are," Karen retorted.

"I mean wouldn't that be the police's job?" Mary Ellen asked.

"How is your car?" I asked Karen.

"Just one egg." She sighed. "I'll take it to the car wash."

"You guys?" I asked Mary Ellen.

"Nothing," she said. "I think Karen's was just in the line of fire."

"You would have thought they would go after my car," I muttered.

"Maybe they didn't know which one was yours," Lauren suggested.

"But they knew where I lived?" I questioned. "This doesn't make sense. I don't even know what's happening."

The sound of a car pulling up broke the tension in the room. We all turned our heads toward the front window. It was Simon's familiar car.

"I'll let him in," I said, standing up.

"No, we will," Mary Ellen interjected firmly, holding up a hand to stop me from moving. "Stay put just in case those assholes are still out there."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Simon didn't wait for anyone to answer. He let himself in. We all looked at him with shock as he blazed into the living room.

"Well I guess that solves that," Karen muttered under her breath.

He was in front of me in seconds, taking a knee while my friends sat on either side of me on the sofa. We locked eyes. I saw his emotions were also, for lack of a better expression, on fire. Like me, he seemed to be flipping from worried to furious. But he kept control. "Are you okay? Do any of you know who did this? Punk kids? I'll track them down and scare the daylights out of them. Clearly, they need someone to put them in their place."

Lauren spoke up first. "It wasn't kids. It was people who are opposing you and your company because of the oil spill."

The living room settled into an uncomfortable silence. Lauren's statement was full of accusation. I shot her a scathing look. That was uncalled for.

"It's true," she retorted.

Simon searched my eyes. "Is that true?"

I didn't want him to feel worse than he already did. He took on so much drama, I didn't want him to feel like this was on him. It was on them. It was on the assholes that chose to throw the eggs.

Simon abruptly stood up and pulled out his phone. "I want to talk about this," I said, trying to get his attention, but he was already dialing.

Whoever he called picked up immediately. "My girl was just assaulted by a mob of residents who hate my guts. Look into it."

He hung up the phone and glanced back at me. His eyes flashed with anger. I was genuinely worried he was going to do something crazy. I got to my feet to try and get his attention again. "Simon, I'm fine," I insisted.

He already had his phone up to his ear, making another call.

"Katarina, it's me," he blurted out. "I'm at Rylee's house. She was just assaulted. People threw eggs at her because they are angry at me. I want to post a statement. If they have a problem with me, they can bring it to me. Personally. Or they're cowards." He gave her his address and told her to post it.

I could tell by the conversation, Katarina was arguing with him, pushing back on what was a very bad idea. I agreed, but Simon was unwavering. "Post it." Then he hung up and faced me. "What do you need, Rylee?"

I didn't know what I needed. My mind was a mess of anger and fear. The girls decided to give us some space, dispersing and leaving the house to sit outside.

Simon hugged me. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I should have known better. I'm sorry. What can I do?"

I squeezed him tightly, relieved that he had softened from the tough business tyrant to the man I was falling in love with. "I don't need you to manage the situation," I whispered. "I just need you to be here for me. We can work out the next steps together. I'm fine. Pissed, but fine. They took me by surprise. I'm just glad no one was actually hurt."

Simon nodded, holding me tighter. "You're right," he murmured into my hair. "But I can't let this go, Rylee." His voice was steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of tension. "They need to realize that it's not okay to treat people like this. You have nothing to do with what is going on."

"I agree," I said quietly. "But let's not escalate the situation further."

Simon looked like he wanted to rip his shirt off and go out for revenge himself. "I want to know how they found you. Were they following us?"

Suddenly his gaze turned sharp, "We need to get you some security, and I've got the best people for it."

Before I could even respond, he was on the phone again, giving orders in a swift, unyielding tone.

"Simon, really, this is too much," I protested once he'd ended the call.

He glanced at me, his eyes hard and serious. "We're not taking any chances here, Rylee," he insisted. His hand found mine and squeezed tightly.

"No."

"Excuse me?" he asked with confusion.

"No, I don't want security," I said. "I work in a bar. I am around the public. I don't want some Incredible Hulk following me around and glaring at anyone who looks sideways at me."

Simon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at me with a mix of frustration and concern. "Rylee, you're missing the point. This isn't about image, it's about safety. Your safety."

I crossed my arms in defiance. "I can handle myself just fine, Simon. I don't need a security detail."

Simon shook his head, pacing around the room with an air of agitation. His phone was back in his hand, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he started making more calls to override my refusal.

"Simon," I said sharply, causing him to pause in his tracks. He looked at me, his features taut with concern.

"A security detail won't stop them," I said.

Simon opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a hand to stop him.

"No," I said firmly. "We can't live in fear, Simon. That's letting them win."

"For God's sake, Rylee," he snarled through clenched teeth, the veins in his neck bulging with tension. "This isn't about winning or losing. It's about safety!"

"You're right," I replied calmly. "I'll be more careful. A couple of eggs aren't really all that dangerous. They were pissed. It's over."

He was quiet for several seconds.

"I hate that this is happening because of me," Simon said, his voice filled with regret.

"It's not your fault," I reassured him. "These people are just looking for someone to blame. We need to focus on what we can control and how we can protect ourselves."

He nodded. "You're right. We need a plan."

We spent the next hour discussing potential steps to take, from increasing security to seeking legal advice. Simon promised to do everything in his power to ensure my safety, and I believed him. Because Karen and I still needed to get groceries, Simon offered to come with us to act as security.

"I'm sorry, but I think that just makes the problem worse," I told him.

"Actually, why don't you both stay here?" Lauren suggested. "I'll go with Karen. I think Simon is right about you needing to stay safe. Just lie low. Don't put yourself out there if you don't have to."

"I'm not going to hide," I retorted.

"Come home with me," Simon suggested. "The gate will keep them away."

"That's hiding," I sighed.

"Then come home with me because I want you to," he said.

Mary Ellen laughed softly. "No reason not to make lemonade. Wait, no reason not to make an omelet when someone throws eggs at you. Have fun. I have to go home. All of you be safe."

As she walked to the door, she turned and gave us a warm smile. "Don't stress over this too much," she said. "You two are strong, you'll get through this." And with that, she was gone.

We were left alone in the room. "Well," Simon started, looking at me with a slight smile on his face. "I guess it's settled then. You're coming home with me."

"But what about Karen?" I asked him.

"I'll have security at the house if you want," he said. "I don't want to do anything you don't want to do."

"I say we wait and see," I said. "I don't want to overreact."

"Fine, but today you'll come home with me."

"I'll get a bag," I said with a sigh.

I supposed there were worse things.

As I turned toward my bedroom to gather a few belongings, I caught sight of Simon in the hallway mirror. He stood tall and motionless, his eyes following me, brimming with a mix of worry and protectiveness. It was a strange new side to him that I had never seen before, one that both scared and comforted me at the same time.

As I packed a few essentials into a duffel bag, I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of uncertainty that twisted in my stomach. The idea that someone was out there, watching, following us was unsettling. How long had these people been watching?