“Hold on. I’m walking you inside.”
“You don’t need to. I’m perfectly safe. There’s an alarm system. Remember?”
He tossed me a look as he unfastened his seatbelt. “Full-service date.”
“Ah, okay.” My reactions were silly, as if I was a high school girl on a first date, Daddy waiting just inside to ensure the boy didn’t dare kiss me. When we were at the door, a strange tingling suddenly flowed through me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Just an odd feeling.”
Sasha grabbed the keys from my hand, immediately unlocking the door. “Stay here.”
“What’s going to happen? It’s broad daylight outside.”
“I said. Stay right here. I’m going to check it out.”
“Do you need the security code?”
His look was totally commanding. “I know everything.”
“You do, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”
After he walked inside, I stood where I was for a few seconds but couldn’t stand the wait, so I pushed the door open. There was nothing out of place in the foyer, but the tickling sensations remained. I moved further inside and as soon as I stepped foot in the living room, I gasped.
“I told you to stay outside.” His command was more of a bark, but I knew why.
The house had been ransacked. A chair was flipped over, blinds torn from the window. There were pillows strewn everywhere, their stuffing ripped as if the fabric had been slashed by a knife. Even pictures had been tossed across the room, glass shattering everywhere.
Horrified, I was silenced as the ugliness settled in.
“Who would do this?” My whisper was hoarse. I knew the answer.
Exhaling, he gave me another commanding look and that’s when I realized he had a weapon in his hand. It finally hit me completely who and what he was.
Bratva.
Organized crime.
He moved quickly, heading into the kitchen first while I slowly trailed behind. His silence was as unnerving as what I was facing. The kitchen was a disaster, plates smashed. Glasses broken. The refrigerator door had been left open, food tossed violently, spaghetti sauce covering one wall in crimson strings like blood from a horrific murder.
“My God.”
“This was personal,” he said.
Finally, I broke away, my entire body numb as I headed into the bedroom, knowing what I would find.
Clothes had been pulled from the closet, ripped or cut to ribbons. Dresser drawers were broken, the contents strewn everywhere. It wasn’t the loss of my things that bothered me. It was the writing on the wall over my bed that captured my attention and almost pushed me into a panic attack. The letters were bold, blocky, and painted in red.
Also, like blood.
BITCH
I was still trembling, staring at the wall when I felt the heat of Sasha’s body from the hand he placed on the small of my back.
“Damien,” he hissed. “The motherfucker is going to…” He took and held a deep breath instead of finishing the sentence, but I could tell by his body’s electric vibrations his intent.
And in my heart, I wanted the heartless pig crushed like a bug.
