The police don’t look surprised to see me again, maybe they expect repeat visitors when someone gets vandalized. I don’t know, so I’m just rolling with it. Jacks and Leo seem to read my mood better than Gabe and flank me for support instead of trying to alpha me and be in charge. I appreciate everything Gabe is doing for me, but I’ve been taking care of myself for years, and while it can be hard–so fucking hard sometimes–I think I’m doing a fair job of it.
The police take my name and contact information, they record my statement, they ask for any information I remember about the caller, male or female voice, anything that stood out. They have me fill out a form so that they can get a copy of my phone records, if it comes to that. Which I do. I mostly use it for checking work messages, and now for the guys to contact me. Nobody has my number, which is part of what makes this all the worse.
I’m finally free to go get my stuff, and since Leo says he doesn’t have to be at the office for another hour he comes with us to keep Jacks from driving. I did offer to drive, but will readily admit that if I pull the seat far enough forward on the Jeep to reach the pedals, my boobs are squished against the steering wheel, so yeah, letting them drive makes more sense. Still, I don’t want them to treat me like an invalid.
I’m short, not broken.
Fuckin’ tall people.
I’m not mad at them, not really, I am frustrated with the situation, and I am mentally taking it out on them. I miss mycat, I miss my car, and I miss my nest. The one Jacks made me is nice, but it doesn’t feel like mine, exactly. Maybe we can take some of my nest to the new nest, at least while I am staying there.
We finally pull up in front of my little house and I use my key fob to turn off the alarm. Nothing looks out of place, but there is a weird twisty feeling in my back, like almost a shiver…something’s wrong, but I don’t know what.
Jacks seems to feel it too, and asks for my keys so he can check on everything. I grumble, but hand them over, I know he’s trying to help. Instead of going through the front door, he puts both hands on top of the fence, one leg up and braces against it…then tosses himself over.
Can all alphas do that? Should I put in a garden behind the fence, with plant stakes…or a moat? Whatisthe proper response when you find out that the fence you put up for privacy and protection won’t actually do more than the bare minimum to keep people out?
Maybe barbed wire?My annoyed inner voice mumbles. I swear, these alphas are just throwing all my preconceptions about safety right out the fuckin’ window. I know I am grumpy from stress…but come on.
A few minutes later Jacks opens the front door from the inside, marches over to the Jeep and pulls me into a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry, Little Lion, we need to call the cops…again.” He sounds both pissed and resigned.
Fuck.
Jacks
As soon as we pull up, I know something is off. Candice’s scent had taken on a burnt sugar edge the whole morning with how stressed she was, but this was different, more sour and worried. It feels like there’s a low hum in the back of my skull. Something is definitely wrong, and I don’t want my omega walking into it.
Once she hands over the keys, I hop the fence, and make my way around to the back door. I don’t need to pick the lock this time at least. But as I round the house, it looks like I wouldn’t need to do that anyway, the glass on the back door is smashed in, and the door’s hanging open, there are a few drops of blood on the concrete outside. I crouch low, opening the door as quietly as possible. But I don’t smell anyone else in the house. Candice’s scent is still everywhere, but there’s something else, almost too faint for me to catch. Darker and heavier than her, angry.
I open the door to her nest and look in, the room is shredded, with blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. I don’t go in, because the police will need to do an investigation, and I don’t want to mess anything up. I walk quickly through the rest of thehouse…Iggy’s terrarium is knocked to the floor, but it doesn’t look shattered at least. Several of her books are off the shelves and it looks like someone swept her photos and frames down. Glass litters the floor.
I walk to her office, dread filling me with each step, this was her sanctuary, and I will find who did this. I open the office door and swear loudly. Her shelf with her sketchbooks is tipped over, ripping the anchor out of the wall. Papers are scattered over the floor where it looks like someone yanked pages out of them, the covers torn off. Her computer monitor is just a starburst pattern of broken glass across the screen, and her drawing tablet is laying on the floor, broken, and covered in plaster dust where someone slammed it repeatedly into the wall.
Her tower is on its side, dented, a boot-print well defined on the metal case, so I take out my phone and grab a photo, just in case. Her office chair has been cut up, stuffing and chunks of leather mixed in with the papers and other debris on the floor.
Fuck, I wonder if I can just take her home, and forget about it. So she doesn’t have to go through this today, after everything else.
I know I can’t, but I also know she’ll be devastated. My gut churns with anger and nausea as I imagine her reaction.
Fuck.
Better get this over with.
I head out of the front door. She’s standing beside the Jeep, chewing on her thumbnail. Her eyes look up at me, and I see both hope and dread.
I’m gonna kill this motherfucker.
“I’m so sorry, Little Lion, we need to call the cops…again.”
Leo is staring at me, and I shake my head, he pulls out his phone and dials the police while walking into Candice’s house, and I hear when he starts cursing. Leo is the most laid back guy I’ve ever met. Hearing him this upset is kind of disturbing. When he comes back outside, he is practically yelling into the phone.
“I was just at the station, I know there are no emergencies, get some people down here now because we need to get this sorted out and get our girl home. I will not have her standing around all day upset because your department can’t pull your heads out of your collective asses.” Even Candice looks taken aback by the fierce snarl on Leo’s face, as she reaches for him, rubbing her hand down his arm.
She shouldn’t have to comfort him, it’s her house that is trashed, but I think it must be an omega thing, as she pulls out of my arms to wrap hers around his waist.
Leo takes a deep breath and settles. “Yes, fine. I’m just…upset. Yes, someone will be here. But we can’t go in or do anything to clean up, until you arrive. Yes, I or one of my packmates will be here with her. No…just…please, hurry.” By the time he hangs up he has curled his big body around Candice, breathing in her scent, and offering comfort as much as taking his own.
