She thought of what she had planned and had to admit she was a bit nervous. It had been a long time since she’d done anything to alter her appearance because this was how Caleb liked her to look.
To hell with him and his insane, controlling ways. It was time to be her own person again.
****
Chapter 11
––––––––
“Holy padded psych room, Batman. Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?”
Derek glanced around Caleb Porter’s apartment. He didn’t think of it as Caleb and Charlie’s. If he had any say in it, she’d never step foot in this place again.
“Looks like a fucking museum,” Grant answered from beside him.
“Yeah, a museum for the king of all things OCD. It’s like no one actually lives here.”
The place was seriously spotless. As in, could eat off the fucking floors, spotless. And everything was white.
The walls, the kitchen cabinets, the couches. Even the wood furniture had a whitewash stain on them.
“Look at this shit, Hill,” Derek said to Grant from the kitchen.
Curious, he’d opened the pantry’s double doors. Every single can was stacked perfectly, their labels facing outward so they could be easily seen. And they’d been alphabetized.
“What the fuck?”
“Dude likes to be organized.”
Derek looked at his teammate like he’d lost his damn mind. “There’s organized, and then there’s BSC organized.”
“What the hell is BSC?” Grant’s brown brows turned inward.
“Bat shit crazy, my friend. And I’d say from the looks of this place, Porter fits the bill.”
Both men left the kitchen and headed toward the back of the apartment. There were two large, double-doors where Charlie had said their bedroom was located.
