“There is nothing. All of it was turned off.” Cash’s dark brows pull together.
“Is that possible? Like it was hacked and turned off?” I’m not the best at technology, but I’m not terrible either. That doesn’t sound right.
“No, only the company could, or whoever has the codes and access.” Cash leans back in his chair, his attention switching from the computer screen to my brother and me.
“Does it tell you who did it?” I ask. Why is he taking so long to tell us?
“You thought you scared them off?” he asks my brother. “Did you hear them?”
“No, but they only fucked up the living room. Shit was knocked over, and the one word was written on the wall. Felt incomplete. You think they would have done more damage.”
“Agreed.” Cash rubs his jaw, which he does when he’s thinking.
“Cash, does it say who turned the alarm off or whatever?”
“Yeah, but it has to be an error.”
“Why?” I get up to come see for myself, but he answers before I can.
“It says it was you.”
“Me?” I come around, and Cash pulls me into his lap as I read over the screen. It shows the log of ins and outs of the house, along with setting alarms and turning off cameras, and they all do in fact say me.
"Kins, you really shouldn't talk about yourself that way." I pick up a pen off the desk and chuck it at my brother.
"I would have come up with something better than what was written."
Cash is quiet; I turn slightly in his lap. "What are you thinking?"
"That someone is fucking with you, and that person is far too close."
.
Chapter Nineteen
CASH
Who the hell would do this? To Kindred, much less. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I might be too close to the situation, so I’m not seeing it as clearly as I should. Ethan went back to the house to stay. He told me he would see about cleaning up the wall but would take pictures first and send it all to me.
"I have made myself right at home." Kindred does a spin into the kitchen, wearing one of my shirts from my time as a Ranger. That's all she's got on with a pair of white fuzzy socks. I have seen her in shorter dresses, but her in my shirt does shit to me, and I don't mean all sexual.
There is this comfort to it. That she's strolling around our home, wearing my things. This is going to be my life. She's my family. A word I haven't associated with myself in decades. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t have a family. Kindred has changed all of that for me.
"Are you okay?" She asks. "Or are you just enjoying the sight of my legs?"
"I enjoyallsights of you." I place the grilled cheese I made on the plate before taking it over to the kitchen island and setting it next to the tomato soup.
“My fave.” She slides into the chair. “I’m not shocked you know this. I should quiz you. See how much you really know.” Kindred playfully rubs her hands together as I set my own plate down next to hers.
“Hit me.” I pick up my sandwich and take a bite. I should be buckling down on finding out who did this, but it can wait for tomorrow. Kindred is back to smiling, and she is tucked away here with me. I know she’s safe.
“What instrument do I know how to play?”
“The flute.” Though I have never seen her with one. I know she played it in high school.
“What’s my favorite sport?”
“Trying to rile me up.” A giggle leaves her. “You also enjoy going dancing and being in everyone’s business.”
