“Do you have the key, Peach Puff?” Her wide brown eyes meet mine as she slowly nods. Reaching into her purse, she grabs her key and unlocks the door.
“Noa, how dare you let these men talk to us like that.” Her father’s voice is sharp, but nothing is as sharp as the noticeable lack of scent coming from Noa’s open door.
I’ve never seen Noa’s house before, but from my view, the house is… trashed.
Completely trashed.
Noa can’t move. Everyone is silent as we gaze into the house, and I look to my leader. Silas snaps out of it first. Reaching between Noa and me, he shuts the door.
“Noa, was it like that when you left?” He asks.
She shakes her head no, but her parents scoff.
“She’s always been messy; I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the real world.”
“Havoc, search the house, ensure it’s empty. Thorne, stay with Noa. Mr. and Mrs. Odette, please,” Silas waves a hand towards their car. Grumbling, they leave, mentioning how late it is and blah blah, blah.
I take Noa’s hand and crash her into my arms. No longer able to resist comforting her.
Havoc nods as he makes his way back to us, and we step inside.
Noa has a mini entryway with hooks ripped from the wall, jackets, and glass covering the floor. I’m quick to scoop her into my arms. The glass crunches under my shoes as we step inside.
I stop in the entryway and turn around so we are facing the wall.
“We don’t have to look?—”
“I need to see Thorne,” she murmurs, and I turn us back towards the mess, and I feel her tense in my arms.
Her kitchen doesn’t have a single dish, as they are all shattered on the floor. Pink, yellow, and green ceramic pieces lay sharp on the floor, and her cupboard doors were torn from the hinges, left open so Noa could see the damage. Someone wanted to hurt her, my omega, my peach, and they knew how to hit an omega hard. By destroying their space.
I try to keep my heart rate normal. I try not to let my anger show, wanting to be the calm to the storm wrecking her, but with each step into her house, my control slips.
She slides out of my arms as we get to the living room. Her pink couch is torn up, filling and fabric everywhere. A broken TV and a clearly jumped-on coffee table finish the damage to the living room.
“No, no, no, no, oh no,” Noa murmurs as she runs toward her bookshelf on the opposite end. I follow, mylarge footsteps making me swallow the little space between us.
“Noa,” Havoc’s voice rings, but nothing gets through to her. She drops to her knees, holding a piece of something cream in her hands.
“It’s broken— my grandmother’s sewing machine. It’s—” She breaks off sobbing as she hugs the pieces to her chest. The three of us aren’t sure how to comfort her. I want to swallow her into me, protect her from the world, but I can’t.
The things I find most valuable are people. They stand beside me, so I can’t imagine what Noa is going through. I can’t protect her from what’s already been done.
“Thorne,” her voice is low as she calls me, but I squat behind her. I don’t touch in case that might set her off, but she leans back into me. Her tears wet my shirt as she turns to face me. With broken pieces in her lap, she meets my eyes and, for once, I see the anger I see in my own eyes reflecting back at me.
“Yes, peach puff.”
She swallows as she stares, gripping my shirt as she shakes her head. “The key is in my nightstand.”
“The key for what?” I ask, resting my head on her forehead as she curls into me.
“The key to my nest. Please,” she stops and takes a deep breath, as if it’s hard to speak through her throat. “Check my nest.”
“Noa—”
“I can’t do it.”
“How would they get in if I needed a key?” I ask her, but she shakes her head.
