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A deep, relieved sigh met my ears.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked softly.
I was really concerned now. My dad seemed to be gathering himself back together, as if something had shaken him apart.
“Dad, you’re scaring me,” I said. “Is Mom all right?”
“Yes,” Dad’s voice cracked. “Your mom and your brother are fine. Your house isn’t, though.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that somebody just firebombed your house,” he said. “I got the call from Dre, who was at work, who got the call from the police department. Apparently somebody threw a molotov cocktail through your front window, caught the couch on fire, and it burned the rest of the living room down. Luckily, the fire was contained to just your and Slate’s houses.”
My head whipped around to stare at Slate, who must’ve been getting the same news as me because he was staring blankly into space.
The baby was sucking on air, which caused me to reach down and prop it back into her mouth as I said, “Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine,” he answered. “But the weird thing is that all of the surveillance we have on your house and Craig’s was compromised. Some sort of jammer was used, and everything we got from about thirty minutes after you left until the police were called was a constant loop of about an hour time span.”
I shook my head. “Well…that obviously wasn’t something that was just done spur of the moment. That sounds planned. It also sounds like someone knew what they were doing.”
“There’s something else I have to tell you,” Dad murmured.
“What?” I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this bit of news.
“Roan was let out on bail last week,” Dad murmured. “He’s back home. At his mother’s house.”
I felt sick to my stomach.
“They gave him parole?” I asked with my voice slightly raised. “He wasn’t supposed to get that for two more years!”
Roan Forbes was the man that had nearly done some awful things to me—had done some awful things to me. Was still doing awful things to me.
Hell, I couldn’t even sleep in my own damn bed at night because of the things that were still eating at me.
Yet…somehow, I wasn’t as upset as I would’ve once been. And that was likely due to the man that was still looking mighty fucking pissed beside me.
“Was it him?” I asked quietly.
“We don’t know,” my dad said. “But talking to his mother, she says that he was at home all night. Something about being online all night long and never leaving.”
“How would she know that he hadn’t left?” I asked curiously.
“I asked that same question. Apparently he screams at the television. Something about him being extremely angry and loud last night,” Dad answered. “It’s good that you’re gone this week. I want to figure this out, and I’m happy to not have you here sleeping in your yard while I do it.”
I shivered slightly.
“I won’t be doing that anymore, I guess,” I admitted. “Not with Roan out.”
Dad made a sound in the back of his throat that was perilously close to a growl.
“I’ll handle it, baby,” he promised. “Don’t worry. In the meantime, let me talk to Slate.”
I looked over at Slate who was no longer on the phone.
At some point he’d taken over the bottle-feeding. He’d also likely heard every word we said, because he was reaching for the phone almost before I had it pulled away from my ear.
This time, instead of me holding the bottle, he took the bottle out of the sleeping baby’s mouth, set it on the couch beside us, then placed her back on his shoulder. When he had her situated, he placed the phone to his ear.
“What’s going on?” Izzy asked, arriving with a frown on her face.
“Someone torched my house after we left,” I answered, worry causing my voice to quiver. “Oh, and the man that assaulted me and almost did worse things to me before my roommate could interrupt him was also released from jail last week.”
“Was it him?” Rome asked, entering the conversation.
I shook my head. “My dad doesn’t think it was, but he’s covering all his bases. Roan has an airtight alibi, though. His mom said he was there playing Xbox until very late last night. So she knows that he was there when the fire started.”
Rome grumbled something under his breath. “Accident?”
I shook my head again, but before I could answer Slate said, “Not an accident. All of our security measures were disabled. Mine, Craig’s who is across the street from us, and Harleigh’s.”
“Are the houses okay?” Pru asked from her seat across the aisle.
“We are now boarding passengers for group one,” the woman behind the desk at our gate called. “Group one and all current military.”
All of us stood up at once as Slate said, “Harleigh’s is a partial loss. Mine’s just the garage.”
