Sage shot me a glare that told me that I’d better stop lying right this instant, or I’d have to answer to her. “She’s not fine. Someone broke into her house. Look at it.” She waved a hand over the wreckage. “Can I take her to my place?”
“In a minute.” Wade crouched by the coffee table where a lamp had been knocked over, his gloved hand steadying it upright. “Did you recognize the person?”
“No.” I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to visualize him. “I’d never seen him before. It was dark, and the hallway doesn’t get much moonlight, but he was probablya little over six feet. He was heavier set, strong, and older. Sorry, that isn’t much to go on.”
“He was gone by the time I got here.” Sage shrugged. “I called out when I came in the door, so I didn’t get a look at him. Must have gone out the back.”
“But he knew there was a back …” Wade trailed off, obviously thinking. “I’ll take a look and see if we can find any fingerprints in this damp. The rain might cause us problems.”
The door opened again, and another figure filled the frame. Broad shoulders, damp jacket, dark hair plastered by rain. Easton.
My stomach lurched.
He didn’t have anything to do with the police department, but he carried the same intensity as Wade, his eyes sweeping the room before locking onto me. They narrowed, sharp with unspoken questions. I looked at her accusingly, but she just shrugged.
Now he’d really think I had issues.
I shifted on the couch, wishing I didn’t feel heat crawl up my neck. Sage moved up onto the couch next to me, grasping one of my hands in solidarity. I would like nothing more than to go across the street and curl up in her guest room away from this mess. I wasn’t sure I was up to dealing with anything tonight.
Wade straightened. “East, can you go around back and check the yard? See if he left any tracks before the rain washes them out. Careful not to touch the back door. We’ll see if we can catch a break on the prints.”
Easton gave one short nod, then vanished through the door without a word.
Wade crouched in front of me. “Lila. Start at the beginning. Tell me everything. Start from when you opened the door.”
I started with the dark porch light, the feeling that something was wrong, and the wrecked room. My voice shook, but I kept talking. “I was heading down the hall when he came out. I didn’t see much of his face. He shoved me. Hit me once.” I swallowed hard. “He said,” I hesitated. “Something about that I needed to leave. I don’t really understand what that means. I tried to ask.” It all had to be some crazy mistake. I went over the rest with Wade and then trailed off helplessly. “Then Sage showed up, and he bolted.”
Wade’s jaw clenched. He scribbled notes in his pad, every stroke of the pen loud in the quiet room. “No chance this was Derek?”
“None.” When he looked doubtful, I rushed to reassure him. “I would have recognized Derek, and I wouldn’t hide that. Derek is a jerk and deserves to go to jail. I’d be the first person to throw him under the bus. He’s shorter and younger. It wasn’t him.”
This time. Now. We all were thinking it.
Wade studied me for a long moment. “Alright. We’ll see if we can take prints. Might be a long shot, but we’ll try.”
“Okay.” My voice seemed small. “It’s probably just random.”
Sage made a sound like she couldn’t believe I’d evensaid that. I couldn’t believe I said it.
Wade leaned closer. “I get that you’re shaken up. Whoever this was, he meant to scare you, maybe worse. They were obviously here for something.” He clicked his pen as he looked over the wreckage of the room.
The words scraped down my spine.
Easton came in, damp and scowling, his boots leaving wet prints across the floor. “No sign out back other than faint boot prints. Size twelve, probably, but the ground is too wet to get any kind of print.
He moved toward the couch, eyes ghosted over my cheek again. For a moment, something flickered in his expression—anger, maybe, or something, sharper. I looked away before I could interpret it.
“We’ll get patrol cars to swing by your place for the next few nights,” Wade said. He tucked his notepad into his pocket. “And I want you staying somewhere else until we figure out what’s going on.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said quickly. My voice trembled, but I forced it to be firm. “This is my home.”
“Home or not, it’s not safe,” Wade countered. “The man threatened you, Lila.”
Easton crossed his arms, rain still dripping from his jacket. “He’s right. You shouldn’t be here alone.”
The way he said it made my insides knot. Not because he was wrong, but because he said it like a fact carved into stone, like my opinion didn’t matter.
“I can handle myself,” I snapped before I could stop, suddenly mad.
