The two short stools at the center island hadn’t fared any better. The contents of her kitchen cabinets were strewn across the counters, and in the sink, pots, pans, and utensils were decorated by the slivers of glass sparkling in the glow of the overhead lights.
When her cell phone rang, her vertical leap would’ve made an Olympic athlete proud. She snagged her phone from her purse, her hand covering her heart, hoping the damn thing didn’t jump clean out of her chest.
“Penelope, what’s wrong?” Obsidian’s tone was rich with panic.
“Someone…” She scanned the devastation. “Someone broke into my apartment. They… God, Obsidian. They destroyed it.”
“Get out of there now,” he insisted.
“It’s fine. They’re gone. My neighbor saw them leave.”
“Penelope.”
“I’m fine, Obsidian. I just… I need to call the police.”
“No. Wait for me to get there.”
She wasn’t sure what he could possibly do that the police couldn’t, but Penelope assured him she would wait, then tucked her phone back in her pocket.
Needing to see the extent of the destruction, she headed for the bedroom, utilizing the fancy maneuvers she’d picked up in those cop shows: keeping close to the wall, peeking around corners. When she deemed it safe, she strolled into her bedroom and inhaled sharply. The damage in here was ten times worse than the living room. Everything was destroyed. The mattress upended, springs sticking out of the various holes that had been made. The small bedside lamp was shattered, alarm clock gutted, the stand that held them smashed to bits. Even her comforter was ripped down the middle.
Of course, her neighborhood intruders hadn’t stopped there. Her closet was puking up clothes, all of which now resembled ribbons. Even her shoes were in pieces, heels snapped off, her favored Converse sliced and diced, boots sheared in half.
“Nice. Just what I don’t need right now.”
Penelope turned toward the bathroom, freezing when her eyes landed on the fractured pieces of the mirror. More accurately, the words written in red lipstick across them:He will not have you.
“What the hell does that mean?”
In an effort not to hyperventilate, she focused on the rest of the space. Makeup littered the floor, stomped to smithereens. Shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were bleeding out into the bathtub, coating the shower curtain that lay in a heap. Even her bath bombs were pulverized into dust.
Her knees were weak, so she leaned against the doorjamb, her attention shifting back to the mirror.He will not have you.
“Who’she?”
For the life of her, Penelope couldn’t fathom why anyone would be out to … dothis. There were no angry boyfriends from her past, no disgruntled prior roommates. She didn’t have enemies. Probably had a lot to do with the fact that she didn’t have friends. Well, not many, anyway. The only real friend she had lived in LA. The next closest would be the pizza guy, and truth be told, she didn’t even know his name. But clearly someone was attempting to send her a message.
Just as the ache in her chest built to astronomical proportions, Penelope stumbled back into the kitchen. Perhaps she should’ve stayed with Obsidian. It would’ve kept this ridiculous ache at bay, plus put off seeing … this.
Surveying the littered space, she felt a slight tremble beneath her skin. An inkling of fear, sure. But there was something else. Anger, frustration. Betrayal.
Penelope squealed when Obsidian poofed into existence, right there in her kitchen.
She clutched her hand to her chest, stumbled back, eyes wide as she stared at him. How… Why…What the fuck?
As though it was completely normal for him to appear out of thin air, Obsidian scanned the room, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “Did they take anything?”
“I… How’d you do that?” The squeak in her voice wasn’t intentional.
His attention shifted to her momentarily, but he didn’t answer her question, instead repeating his own.
She could hardly breathe, shocked to the roots of her hair, confused beyond belief.
“Penelope. Did they take anything?”
Forcing her eyes away from him, she took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure how I could tell. Everything I own’s smashed or slashed.”
With Obsidian there, at least that irritating ache had disappeared. And yes, fine, a little of the fear dissipated as well.
