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His blue eyes widened as he glanced at my house. He turned us, practically carrying me into the house before kicking the door closed and locking it. He dug his phone out of his pocket.
I shook as he called the police, giving them all the details they needed. I tuned him out, unable to get my thoughts out of the house. The feel of my space being intruded upon. Of them coming for me. In the background, I could hear Bebe throwing a fit, barking as he sensed that something was happening. At this time of the night, he was probably in his crate.
Bebe knew. The danger that I faced. He somehow sensed it.
I shuddered, not sure what would have happened if I had been caught. They didn’t want to rob me. They were coming for me. They had to have been. Otherwise, they would have left as soon as I came back, right?
And to think they were there when I first went inside, no doubt hiding and waiting until my guard was completely down before coming for me.
What would have happened to me if I had crawled into bed like I’d intended? I would have fallen asleep right away, not even knowing that someone else was there.
At some point, Seth had wrapped a blanket around me. I held it close to me, trying to stop the coldness that seemed to take over my body. Needing to expel this fear that was holding me prisoner, I paced back and forth in Seth’s living room, with too many questions.
Seth texted whom I was sure was the others. I didn’t care. I was too busy trying to calm down.
Why was someone in my house?
Did they wait for me to come back? Or did I walk in on them already there?
Were they waiting for me specifically?
Why?
Who?
I tugged at my hair.
“Cadence,” Seth said, stepping into my path. I didn’t stop in time and bumped into him. His hands went to my waist and gave me a gentle squeeze. “Calm down and relax. Sit down and take deep breaths before you have a panic attack.”
I shook in his hold. My head went side to side. Seth must have sensed I was about to break because he pushed me toward the couch and forced me to sit down.
He knelt in front of me.
“You’re fine. No one is here but us, and the police are on their way. They’ll be here any minute now.”
I nodded jerkily.
I was okay.
He didn’t get to me.
I was safe.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, eyeing my arms and legs, seeing the scratches.
“I jumped from the garage roof, and the bushes caught me. I’m just scratched up. My ankle is a little sore too.”
Seth stood. “I’m going to go get a med kit. I’ll clean the scratches for you.”
I didn’t say anything, and he disappeared into the hallway. A med kit wasn’t going to make the entire experience go away. It wasn’t going to make my still healing body better. All the med kit would do was superficially make it seem like I wasn’t a scared, broken person.
The next two hours passed by in a blur of red and blue lights and police officers with more questions than I could answer.
They wanted to know what the intruder looked like. Their height, facial features, hair color, eye colors, any tattoos or piercings or any other identifying marks.
What was he wearing? What kind of coat? What kind of shoes? Were there gloves? All these questions I couldn’t answer. I knew nothing.
Just that he was tall, broad, and came into my house. They did find signs of the break-in, adding credibility to my statement, otherwise I thought they were going to start believing I was crazy or seeking attention or something stupid like that. The hole in the window on the first floor said otherwise. And the muddy footprints that clearly weren’t mine.
