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I smile, happy to see that she’s not dwelling in the sadness. The fire returns to her voice, and I feel the steel in her spine settle as she stands up straight.
“That’s my girl. Let’s grab some of your things and get the hell out of here, yeah?”
She nods and wipes away her tears. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Maven looks over the place again, and there’s a quick flash of devastation in her eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by fire. Anger. Determination. She puts her hand in mine and gives it a squeeze.
“Thanks for that. I don’t usually cry in front of people.”
I squeeze her hand back. “You don’t usually have your privacy violated in such a massive way. Besides, it’s no hardship to hold you, Maven.”
She grins and leads the way up the stairs until I stop her. “What?”
“I go first. Remember?”
“Sure. Fine,” she says and motions toward the carpeted staircase. “Lead the way inmyhouse.”
The bedroom is no better than the living room, in fact it, might be worse. “Maven,” I begin, but she pushes her way around me to see the damage for herself.
“What? No!” Her bedroom is ten times worse than it appears at first glance. Her bedding is shredded and stained, and a strong odor of gasoline is present in the room.
I look around at the drawers hanging from the dresser. Panties and bras scatter the floor, covered in some kind of black gunk.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Maven’s words come out on a sob, and I’m at her side in an instant. “Everything is ruined. Literally, every fucking thing I own is ruined. Slashed and cut up, soaked in what smells like gas, and then covered in, what the fuck is this? Paint or oil? I don’t even know!” Her voice is getting shriller by the second, and I can tell more tears are imminent. “Why?”
“He’s an asshole,” I assure her and wrap an arm around her for comfort. Yeah, maybe my dick takes notice of her scent and her softness, and I have to talk him down, but who could blame me with a woman like Maven?
“You ready to check out the bathroom?”
“No,” she sighs, and her shoulders slump forward. “They probably fucked up everything in there as well.”
Maven is a sight to behold as she stands up straight, blows out a fortifying breath, and takes a few steps toward her bathroom.
I’m right behind her, and before she opens the door, the overwhelming scent of bleach hits my nose. “Want me to look?”
“Trying to protect my innocence, Wilder?”
“I don’t know about innocence, but there’s no need to further traumatize yourself.” This damage is equivalent to a home burning down, and I’m sure she’s feeling the effects as if it had.
“No, I’ve got this.” She kicks open the door and shakes her head.
The counters are bare, and the drawers are all empty because everything is inside the large claw foot tub.
“Goddamn son of a bitch. He filled my tub up with bleach and put everything in there. My makeup and brushes, my shampoo and flat iron, even my bathrobe are all in there.” Her voice is shaky as she points to a jar of face cream, a tube of lipstick. “Even the fucking toilet paper!”
“Sounds like you made the right choice, ending things with this prick.”
She nods and keeps on nodding until her hands start to shake. Eventually, Maven’s entire body is trembling.
“I got you, Maven.” I grab her in my arms, hoping my warmth will do something to ward off the shock. “We can replace it all. We will,” I assure her because watching her crumble like this is as painful as if someone kicked me in the balls and tore my heart out of my chest with a rusty spoon.
She leans into me and buries her face in my neck as the sobs subside into silent tears.
“Come on. Don’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it. We should get back to the clubhouse.”
She nods and lets me guide her down the stairs and out of the house without argument, a sure sign she’s in shock.
Chapter Seventeen
