Chapter Thirteen — Trinity
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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TRINITY
“Damn it,” I muttered, pulling the flash drive out of the tower of my work computer and tossing it onto the desk.
The fucking thing was password protected. Probably more than that, if I had to guess. But I hadn’t been able to open it on my laptop, and despite being good with computers and several hours of internet searches, I was no closer to unlocking it than I had been when the man slipped it into my bag.
Plus, now it was past lunch, and I hadn’t gotten to any of the things that were actually on my plate today. My inbox was overfilled with articles to edit, and some of them had deadlines today.
Fuck.
I rubbed my temples, my head aching. My brain was so hooked on the flash drive and Tracy’s files that it was going to be an absolute slog of an afternoon.
I didn’t like having to fight my own brain all the time, but life was life, and sometimes you had to get things done even if you didn’t feel like it.
I’d always been this way. One of the reasons I went into journalism in the first place was that I could dive deep into topics that grabbed and held my interest like this. Nobody cared if you went overboard on research if you were using it to write about something.
That wasn’t the only reason I’d chosen this field, but it was a big one.
And I’d forgotten to eat. Again. Go figure.
I grabbed a granola bar from the stash in my drawer and braced for hours of boring.
Thankfully and surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad today.
There was an article about the way local coffee shops were making a resurgence in Clarity compared to the chain stores.
Another was a cute but lengthy list article aimed at people visiting in the off-season.
A profile of a local baker who’d found a niche creating wildly realistic cakes.
I really needed to pitch a profile on Ocean to Edgar. The way Entendre made bouquets was a perfect subject for the magazine. Who didn’t want to send a bouquet of pretty flowers that said fuck you without them having any idea?
No, I hadn’t done that.
At least not to an ex.
Smirking at the memory, I wrote a note down to ask Ocean if she was even interested before I went to Edgar. No point in getting him excited if she didn’t want to do it.
My phone vibrated on my desk.
Holy shit, what time was it?
I listened for office sounds as I glanced at the clock. There was very little noise outside my door. I’d focused through everyone leaving. Not exactly unusual for me, but I needed a better system so I didn’t get as lost in the weeds. I couldn’t stay in the office past six every day.
There were some days that needed late nights, but we were a smooth, laid back operation. It was rare that any of us were busting our asses on last-minute deadlines. Or that my colleagues weren’t busting their asses. I was a different story. As always.
I grabbed the flash drive—there was no way my brain was going to leave it alone—and checked my phone on the way to my car.
Isolde
I’m heading out for dinner with the guys, but they’re on board with me stealing your phone afterward if you haven’t texted them?
I laughed.
Trinity
You’re relentless.
Isolde
You’ll thank me later.
Trinity
Completely slammed at work today. I’ll call Dad when I get home. Happy?
Isolde
I’ll be happy when I have proof.
Ocean
Seconded.
Also, twins. Going to dinner, but I have no plans later and I expect a full report.
Get it? Cause you’re a reporter?
Trinity
Ha. Ha. Ha. *sarcasm.*
Fine.
Ocean
Love you too
I tossed my phone onto the seat and drove.
The thing I hadn’t come up with was a way to ask Dad for their phone number without making it weird. Then again, it was going to be weird either way. Nerves jangled in my stomach. They hadn’t reached out either. Was that because they were waiting on me? Or because they didn’t have my number?
I groaned as I climbed the stairs to my apartment.
Simple hookups were easier than this.
But hookups also didn’t soothe the aching loneliness that lived in my chest.
Fine. I would ask Dad for their number, and whatever came out of my mouth when I asked would be the reason.
My door slid open too easily.
Like it hadn’t been locked.
But even unlocked, I’d lived in this place for years and always needed a good push to get it open.
It swung open in front of me…
What the fuck?
My apartment was in shambles.
What I could see of my living room had the couch cushions everywhere, torn open. An apple and a banana were on the floor next to a fruit bowl from the kitchen—shattered.
I took one step inside, and everything in me froze. The destruction was worse than it looked. Almost nothing hadn’t been touched. Every instinct I had told me not to go into the apartment. It was quiet, but what if they were still here?
The rack I kept my keys on was on the floor. I looked, but I didn’t see the ring I had with all my keys. The one to Dad’s house, the mailbox keys, everything I needed but also didn’t want to carry back and forth to work.
What else had been taken?
The door finally bumped into the wall, the quiet sound like a gunshot in the silence. I needed to get out of here. Somewhere. Anywhere.
I was dialing Isolde before I fully registered, pulling the door closed behind me. It wouldn’t close as well as I needed it to.
“This is Isolde Allen, please leave a message!”
“Fuck,” I muttered, sprinting back down the stairs to my car.
They’d just told me they were both going to dinner. She wouldn’t be looking at her phone. Neither would Ocean.
I needed to call the police, but if the person who broke in was still close by? I wanted to be somewhere safe first.
What the man had said last night about accidents rang in my head. But I did believe in accidents. And coincidences.
Sometimes bad luck happened, and I wasn’t going to jump to conclusions just because someone had decided my apartment looked like an ideal target.
I didn’t take a full breath until I pulled into my father’s driveway. At the very least, I would be physically safe here. Until I could call my friends and make sure it would be okay for me to stay with them. I couldn’t stay here.
They would say yes. I knew that. I knew, too, that they would probably be furious with me for not calling them repeatedly until they answered in this kind of emergency. But even now, I wasn’t operating in a clear state of mind.
Just get inside, Trinity.
I reached for the keys I had to Dad’s, and…
Shit. His keys were some of the ones missing.
I knocked on the door, panic about being out in the open making me frantic.
It didn’t matter that the thought wasn’t rational.
I was an Omega. If I had a nest, that’s where I would want to be.
Only I was glad I didn’t, because having a nest and then having it destroyed was a whole different kind of pain.
Steps behind the door had me shaking in relief. But when the door opened, Logan stood there. And he looked just as surprised to see me. “Trinity?”
Cinnamon and sugar wrapped around me like the best comfort in the world. Everything in my body relaxed, recognizing the safety I’d felt with them.
Traitor.
“Umm, I’m looking for my dad. Please.”
“He and my mother forgot some things for dinner, so they ran to the store. They should be back soon.” He gestured inside, and I took the opportunity, moving straight past him to the living room.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just came to see my dad.”
“You’re pale, shaking, and fidgeting. Please don’t lie to me.”
I glanced around, seeing if any of Dad’s pack was around before I spoke.
This was the perfect time to admit I lost the piece of paper with his number on it, but those words didn’t come out of my mouth.
“It’s okay, Logan. I get that this situation is unexpectedly awkward, but you don’t have to worry about me. ”
His brow creased, and he stepped closer, hands in his pockets. “Is that what you think? That it’s awkward, so we don’t want you?”
My mouth opened and closed without sound. Yes, that is what I had thought. Most men I knew would run screaming at situation like this. And the ones that wouldn’t were already partnered. Like my friends’ packs.
Logan sat on the other end of the couch. Close, but not encroaching. “Today was the deadline. If you hadn’t texted us by the end of the day, we were going to ask either Cecil or Cade for your number tomorrow and make up a reason until we had a more... parent-appropriate story.”
I opened my mouth again to answer, but didn’t get the chance. The front door opened, and my father’s voice called, “Rin? You here? I see your car.”
I was on my feet and embracing him in less than a second, forcing him to drop the plastic bags of groceries he held. “Whoa. Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to see you.”
“Growing up hasn’t made you a better liar, honey.”
I took a shaky breath when we separated and wrapped my arms around myself. “When I got home today, my—” I grit my teeth and made a sound of frustration. Not now. My voice couldn’t disappear now. “Someone broke into my apartment.”
“WHAT?” That was Logan, now off the couch and with us again. Then I saw Theo poke his head out of the kitchen. Everyone was coming into the foyer, asking what was happening. Logan and Dad were trying to ask me questions, but all I could hear was noise. Panic crawled up my spine.
Liz stepped out from behind my father and put an arm around my shoulders. She guided me to the kitchen and sat me on one of the high stools near the breakfast bar.
“Here.” A glass of water appeared in front of me. “Would the rest of you like to pull your heads out of your asses and get in here?”
Dad reached me first. “Are you okay?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess. It’s just jarring. Scary.”
“Did they take anything?” Brooks asked.
“I didn’t go through the whole apartment once I saw everything, but yeah. They took my extra set of keys.”
Someone swore.
“You can stay here,” Dad said, “of course.”