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CHAPTER THREE
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The second I enter my loft, I have an off feeling. Beeze greets me but it’s not his usual, “Where the fuck have you been?” greeting. He’s skittish, looking around the open concept space like he’s just been to Narnia and found his way home.
“Hey Beeze. What’s wrong, bud? I wasn’t gone that long.” Beelzebub wraps around my legs, his floofy tail curling up the full length of my lower body. I switch on a few lights and notice his dish hasn’t been touched.
“That’s not like you, Beeze. You always eat like the apocalypse is upon us. What happened?” I ask my beautiful Maine Coon the question as though he’ll suddenly rise up and talk to me but he continues to be snaked around my leg with his tail.
I grab a pocket knife from the top drawer and slowly start to move through my home. Chills run through my body, the feeling that I’m being watched is overwhelming.
“If someone’s in here, show yourself now. I’m armed and won’t hesitate to feed you to pigs.” I try to sound tough but I’m not confident that I can overpower anyone.
The only sound I’m met with is the creaking of the wooden floor boards beneath my feet. But my cat hasn’t left my side. I near my bedroom and Beeze tries to stop me, putting his twenty-five pound fluffy butt directly in my path and hissing. Something’s wrong.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and keep a tight grip on the knife in my other hand.
I call Chev but she doesn’t answer. Who the fuck else do I call at one in the morning when I’m pretty sure someone is in my home?
I hover over Tyson’s name and ultimately decide to call him. At least I know he’s awake.
“Hey, are you okay?” he immediately answers.
“I’m.. Not? I maybe am. I just feel like someone has been in my apartment and I’m really nervous.” I feel completely ridiculous.
“On my way, I’m a few minutes away. Get out and wait for me?” he doesn’t say it as a command, it’s a request full of concern. He picked Chev up here a few times with her boyfriend Jeff so at least he knows the building.
“I’m not leaving Beeze. I have a knife. I’ll leave the door unlocked, apartment 207.”
He huffs, “Fine but you’re staying on the phone with me. Stay put,” this time it comes out as if it’s a direct order. But I can’t listen. My bedroom, there’s something happening.
“I’ll stay on the phone but I’m not staying put. If you hear me scream, drive faster,” I say as I push my bedroom door open slowly. “Good fucking lord.” I barely whisper.
“What? Cass? What is it?” I hear the engine of Tyson’s truck rev and panic in his voice.
“My room.. It’s..” I trail off, taking in the sight before me.
My bedroom is destroyed. My drawers are pulled apart and tossed across the room. The photos I had taped to my dresser mirror of my friends and I are torn apart. My bedding is scattered across the room.
“Cass!” Tyson yells inside the loft.
“I’m in here,” I say more quietly than I mean to.
He follows my voice with Beeze in his arms. Traitor. He hates men.
“I think you need to consider a new housekeeper.” Tyson says flatly while stoking my cat under his chin.
“I don’t have a housekeeper. Someone broke in,” I return the same flat tone.
He sets Beeze on the stripped bed, “Does anyone have a key?”
I shake my head and start to pick things up from the floor starting with the empty dresser drawers. As I turn to set them back onto the tracks, I notice that my mirror is broken and has a message written in black marker.
One day you’ll know me the way I know you. One day you’ll see what we could be.
I shiver and call the police fully recognizing that I should have called them sooner. Tyson is an angry wall behind me, I can hear the deep breaths he’s taking to try to remain calm.
“Who would do this?” he grinds his teeth.
“I have no idea. I don’t have any enemies and I don’t give out my address to just anyone. My door was locked,” I muster the strength to explain. I stopped putting things away, the police will want to take pictures.
“The window is open. You’re not safe here,” Tyson looks ready to punch things.
“I’m not going to run away from the life I’ve worked so hard for. I won’t live in fear,” anger boils just under the surface as I consider what it would look like if I have to move.
Within ten minutes, the cops are knocking on my door. I invite them in and one immediately starts looking around. The other stays with me for questioning.
“Tell me what happened?” she has a calm, almost motherly tone.
I shutter, “Well, I went on a date. Was gone a few hours and when I got back home I discovered my cat was super stressed out and my bedroom had been trashed. That’s pretty much it, aside from the ominous note whoever this was left on my bedroom mirror.”
She nods and writes my statement on a small notepad. “Any idea who would do something like this? Have you received any threats lately or odd messages?”
I think through all of my encounters. Ben was weird today but he doesn’t know my address.
We don’t even live in the same state and I can’t imagine he’d do something like this.
He’s my friend, right? “I can’t imagine anyone doing this to me.
I have a small circle of friends, no enemies that I’m aware of.
And I don’t give out my home address to people that I don’t know very well. ”
She writes more as her partner emerges from my bedroom, “Quite the mess in there. No signs of fingerprints left behind, someone knows what they’re doing.
I’ve photographed everything and will pass it on to a detective who will follow up within the next day or so.
For now, keep your doors and windows locked.
Call us if anything suspicious occurs, even the slightest thing. ”
The police are gone in about an hour and give me permission to clean up my bedroom. Tyson helps me get everything back in order, commenting on my lacy panties every now and then until I insist that I be responsible for the undies.
“I’m missing some,” I say louder than I mean to.
“Naughty knickers? Really?” he flashes a cheesy grin.
“No, I’m serious. If you didn’t pocket them than whoever broke in here did. I live a fairly minimal life, I know exactly what I own and donate or trash anything I don’t use anymore,” my forehead feels clammy, this is so fucked up.
“I’m going to stay here tonight. My buddy is with Java anyways. I’ll crash on the couch for a few hours, make sure you’re okay. And I won’t take no for an answer,” Tyson looks so serious that I don’t even think to object.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you being here. I have to work in the morning so I should get some sleep,” it’s well past three in the morning. I haven’t stayed up this long in almost ten years.
He chuckles, “I think they’ll understand if you call in sick. Tonight was wild.”
“And that feels like I’m letting this asshole win. I won’t stop my life or change it because someone wants to scare me. This will blow over. Or I’ll have to get stabby,” I pretend that I’m tough just for a minute.
Tyson walks over to me and pulls me into his arms, “You get stabby, I’ll get punchy, we’ll make a great team.”
I melt into his strong arms, feeling more at home than I have for years and enjoying the gentle strokes he places up and down my back.
“I’ll change the bedding then you get some sleep, yeah?” he kisses my forehead and moves away from me, leaving a cold spot against my chest.
“I’ll go make up the pull out couch for you. Thank you for helping me,” I turn to leave my room but Tyson grabs my arm and looks at me with an expression I’m not used to.
“I’ll always help you, okay? Even if this romantic shit doesn’t work out, I’ll always be a phone call away,” I blush again and nod, unsure of what to say.
The pullout is easy enough to set up aside from fighting around Beeze to put sheets on it.
He always thinks we’re playing the parachute game anytime I have to make a bed.
I maneuver around him until the blankets are smooth and grab an extra comforter from my hall closet.
Just as I finish up, Tyson walks out of my bedroom looking utterly exhausted.
“Bed’s all set for you. No creeps in the closest. I think we’re set to sleep for a few hours,” I can hear the fatigue in his voice.
“Yours is set, too. Sorry if Beeze tries to sleep on your head. This was our bed for a long time and he always sleeps in it if I have to pull it out for a guest,” I pat my cat on the bum and fluff his puffy tail a little which earns me a look of love and adoration from my long time furry companion.
“No worries. I don’t mind cats. Especially this one, he seems like a good little dude,” Tyson scratches under my cat’s chin and smiles at the look Beeze gives him.
“Alright. Well, goodnight. Thanks again. I wouldn’t have felt nearly as safe without you here,” I hug him and walk to my bedroom, leaving the door open to keep an ear on any unexpected noises.
I plug my phone in, making sure notifications are turned to silent to prevent anything from waking me from the few hours of sleep I’ll get.
Usually I just sleep in underwear but that doesn’t feel right tonight.
I pick out a pair of leggings and a tank top before pouring myself into bed and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The last thought I have before I’m fully out is a simple request for a better day tomorrow.