Kicking a shirt aside, I noticed there was more glass.
I didn’t understand the point.
At least, not at first. And then I realized this was an attempt to hurt Micah, not me. Bits of glass everywhere that he wouldn’t be able to see. Things slick or broken he could trip over and fall onto shards that would slice him open.
And all for what?
A failed date? A bruised ego?
My head was spinning. I’d known cruel people in my lifetime. I’d seen some of the worst of humanity growing up. But this…
I didn’t understand it.
I couldn’t understand it.
Swallowing heavily, I turned to leave when something caught my eye. It was a bit of paper sticking out from under my pillow. Hopping over a large pile of clothes, I hesitated before moving the fabric aside, afraid something might jump out at me.
But it didn’t.
It was a crumpled note in the same handwriting that had been left in Micah’s living room.
Enough is enough.
I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but my fear was starting to overwhelm me. I had no idea what to do next. Calling the police was logical, but if I involved the police, I would have to call off my brother, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that yet. Tyoma, if he used his resources, would be able to take care of this a lot quicker and neater than law enforcement.
It also didn’t help that there was a good chance Hunter was this bold because he knew people in power. People were rarely this reckless if they didn’t know they could get out of anything.
His arrogance was telling.
Turning on my heel, I shoved the note into my pocket and kept walking until I was on the street. I didn’t bother locking up. What was the fucking point? Katya had already grabbed everything important to her, and everything I had that meant something was likely ruined.
Besides, nothing was irreplaceable except my family, and I knew they were all safe.
I was still shaky as I got into the car, but after checking to see that no one else was blowing up my phone, I pulled out onto the street, driving without thinking.
But I was unsurprised when an hour in shit trafficpassed, and suddenly, I was standing a few feet away from Micah’s place. It looked ominous there against the late-afternoon sun, the door shut, the blinds down.
I knew Micah hadn’t touched it since the night we walked in and found all of his things moved, but I was terrified about what I was going to find. I also didn’t have a key, but I’d watched him type in his code, and the bastard I was, I remembered it.
I was out of breath from my anxiety and panic as I reached for the keypad, only to realize the door was open.Again. Cracked just slightly—enough that it might fool anyone who wasn’t trying to get inside.
Fuck.
Taking a breath, I rolled my shoulders back, prepared to fight to the death if I had to, and I pushed inside. The smell of wet mold was immediate. My feet sloshed through a few inches of water, and I didn’t need to walk in far to see that everything was ruined.
This time, it wasn’t just furniture delicately and strategically rearranged. The kitchen cabinets were emptied, the contents all over the floor. His dishes were broken, his clothes strewn through the hallway, and I took one step inside before hearing the telltale crunch of broken glass.
There was no note waiting for him this time. At least, none that I could see, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I saw Fish on the counter. He seemed untouched, so I very carefully unplugged his bubbler, gathered the small but heavy tank in myarms, stuffing my pockets with his food and treats, and prepared to take him out to my car.
Backing out of the apartment, I shut the door tightly, then headed back to my car, where I managed to tuck several old blankets around Fish’s tank to keep him from moving, then buckled him into the back and locked the strap. I tested the tightness, and only when I was satisfied that Micah’s scaly baby was safe did I shut the door and climb in.
The moment I was in the seat, I snatched my phone from the holder and dialed my brother.
“Vanya?”
“We need to do something. I’m done waiting. He didn’t just destroy my house—he went after Micah again too. No more being polite.”
“Give me forty-eight hours,” Tyoma said. “I’ll call you when I have something.”
