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“Oh god, you’re going to get me killed or locked up, aren’t you?” she says.
“Don’t worry, your boyfriend will bail you out if you get arrested.” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down. I finally managed to get it out of her the other day that she and my brother are sort of a thing.
“Not my boyfriend,” she groans.
“Not yet.” I smirk.
Before I realized we’ve arrived, I’m stumbling out of the car and up the driveway of Dominic’s house. Shar doesn’t look like she’s completely on board with this grand scheme of mine.
“Ah, what? Lucy, where are we?” she asks, staggering along the footpath.
“We’re going to break into Dominic’s house and mess with his shit. Like move stuff around. The guy is the walking definition of obsessive-compulsive. It’ll piss him right off.” I grin at her.
“Oh, yeah, let’s piss off your psychopath then, because that’ll end well.” She rolls her eyes at me.
When we get to the gate, I realise I don’t know the fucking code. Then it hits me, so I enter my birthdate. If he’s as obsessed with me as I think he is, his code will have something to do with me. Or at least Ithinkthat’s how a psychopath wouldthink. I don’t really know for sure.
“How do you know his code?” Shar asks when the gates open.
“Lucky guess.” I shrug. “Come on.” I grab her arm in mine.
“Wait.” She pulls me to a stop. “What if he’s here? Or, shit, he has to have cameras everywhere.”
“Oh, well, let him watch.” I smile. After all, the creep likes to watch.
The front door is unlocked when I turn the handle and it honestly doesn’t even occur to me to question why. That’s what a whole heap of vodka will do to you. So instead of hesitating, I consider myself lucky. There’s no breaking and entering happening here at all. I mean, it’s like the guy wants to be robbed.
I lead Shar up the stairs right into the room I suspect is his. It’s next to the guest room I was holed up in during my brief… kidnapping?
Opening the doors, I find the closet. We’ve hit the jackpot! Everything in here is colour coded. In order by sleeve length and season—something that only a true neat-freak would appreciate.
“Help me mix up these shirts,” I tell Shar as I start moving different clothing items and placing them amongst the wrong colours and types.
“I can’t believe this is what we’re doing on a Saturday night,” Shar says between giggles.
After I’m convinced his wardrobe is sufficiently disorganized, I grab Shar’s hand and tug her through the house, back down the staircase, and into the living room. I pause in front of the mini bar, my eyes scanning and finding a bottle of vodka like it’s a beacon in the darkness—I know better than to mix liquors. Several glasses and I don’t know how many minutes later, I watch Shar’s eyes widen as she stares at something behind me.
“Shit,” she hisses under her breath as I turn my head and we both get blinded by the torches of two large figures looming in the doorway.
“Don’t move,” one voice says.
“Ah, Lucy?” Shar looks to me for what to do.
“You’re under arrest for breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…” The officer continues his speech as my arms are pulled behind my back and handcuffs are snapped over my wrists.
“Don’t say anything, Shar. You’ll be fine,” I tell her the only thing I’m certain of—Xavier might let me rot in jail overnight to teach me a lesson, but there is no way he’d leave Shar there. And then she’ll force him to bail me out too.
I don’t know how much time passes as I wait for the disapproving look of my big brother to greet me. But when the door opens and the police officer tells me I’m free to go, I don’t hesitate to walk out of the cell. They separated me and Shar, and right now, all I want to do is make sure she’s okay. However, when I’m led into the reception area of the police station, it’s not Xavier and Shar I find waiting for me. It’s a very pissed off looking Dominic McKinley.
Great, this is not what I want to deal with right now. Or ever really. I don’t even know what to say to him.
“Are you okay?” He scans me from head to toe, like he’s expecting to find me damaged in some way.
“Fine. You didn’t have to come down here,” I tell him.
“Actually, I did. It seems two drunk delinquents broke into my house.” The corner of his lips tip up almost as if he finds something funny.
“Please… How many times have you broken into mine?” I hiss at him. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. I need to find what they’ve done with Shar.”
