Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
She took it carefully, then retreated back to my side.
“Okay,” I said.
“Do you want to sit?” he asked, waving toward the couch.
“Uh oh,” I said, wincing. “That’s… that doesn’t sound good.”
Alaric sucked in a deep breath, and I pretended not to notice the way it made his tee stretch across his chest.
I mean, why the hell was I even noticing things like that at a time like this? When something had clearly gone wrong.
“Those men you saw? They weren’t there to fuck with Kylo’s place again. The police tape was all still intact. They… they broke into your place, baby,” he said, voice soft as he delivered the blow.
“What?” I asked, pressing a hand to my stomach where I swear it felt like I’d been hit, like someone had knocked the wind out of me.
“When I was walking out of the elevator, I noticed your door was open slightly. When I went in… they’d tossed the place.”
“Tossed?” I repeated.
It was just a split second, though, until my mind flashed with memories of what these men had done to Kylo’s apartment. All the damage.
But… but they’d been looking for something there, right? It made no sense otherwise.
“I don’t know an easy way to break this to you, baby, so I’m gonna just lay it out there.”
“Okay,” I agreed, belly flip-flopping.
“It’s bad. Couch cushions cut, dishes smashed, pictures on the ground, books pulled apart, nail polish… everywhere. And your filming equipment is… ruined. Of your electronics, I only managed to salvage your laptop. And only because I think they missed it. I grabbed what I could,” he said, waving back toward the bags. “You can’t go back there tonight.”
I was hardly listening.
Mentally, I was standing in my apartment, looking around at everything I loved, seeing it torn apart, realizing someone else had destroyed what I’d so carefully curated, the things I loved so deeply.
It wasn’t the money that went into it. I had money. I could replace most of it, save for some special edition books.
It wasn’t even the fact that it was ruined.
I lived in an area where I was very aware there was a risk for a hurricane coming close every few years.
I could live with losing the things I loved to an accident or a natural event.
But to have men break in, put their hands all over my things, and then tear it all apart?
That… that hurt more than I could have expected.
“Hey,” Alaric said, reaching for my forearms, holding them in his strong hands. “I know,” he went on, voice softer. “I know all that stuff means a lot to you. And you can file a police report. Maybe even contact your insurance, if you have it, to replace it.”
“It’s not the money,” I admitted, voice small. “I can replace it. It’s just…”
“The invasion,” he filled in. Getting it. Without me having to try to explain. Something I was terrible at.
“Yeah,” I agreed, trying to suck in a breath, but it caught on a small sobbing sound.
“You can make it your sanctuary again,” he said, pulling me against his chest, even though the tears didn’t really manifest past a glassiness in my eyes that I worked to blink away. “Or you can create a new one somewhere else, if it doesn’t feel right anymore.”
I liked that.
He didn’t just rush to assure me that it would all be fine, that I could clean up, and all would be well.
He offered another suggestion, a way to make things right that didn’t involve tensing anytime someone walked past my apartment door when I left. Or terrified to leave it, afraid of what might happen when I wasn’t home. And definitely to Frida, if I couldn’t take her with me.
It wasn’t the stuff.
It was the feeling.
He got that.
It wouldn’t be easy, or cheap, to start over, to rebuild everything I loved. But I could do it if I had to, if I couldn’t get past this.
I said nothing for a long moment, just letting myself lean into him, allowing myself to enjoy the way his arms wrapped me up, made me feel safe and protected.
And, yes, enjoying the scent of him.
The line of products he used smelled even better on his skin than it did in the bottles.
“I should go back,” I said. “Get the police report over with.”
I would stress about it until I did it.
“Just stay the night, baby. Get your mind around this.”
“But if I don’t report—“
“Tell the truth,” he cut me off. “You were staying with a friend. You didn’t get back until… whenever you go back. And that’s when you saw the damage and called.”
Called.
“What about my phone?” I asked, pulling back to look at him, but was silently pleased that he allowed for space, but didn’t release me.
“It wasn’t there. Or if it was, it wasn’t anywhere that I could find it. That… that you should handle,” he admitted, arms loosening, then moving off of me, but not before his hands slid down my back and across my hips.