23. Fourteen
Fourteen
Brea
I held Taryn’s hand as we sat in the uncomfortable aluminum chairs and she gave her account of the attack to the detective.
The guys had wanted to come in, Caine most of all, but the officers didn’t let more than one person into the interview room with her.
Didn’t want to agitate the witness with too many pheromones and angry people in the confined space.
She’d been somewhat better waking up this morning. I’d felt her in our bond again, which was enough to send me to the moon. Still, she was pale, and quiet, and not at all her usual self.
Now, the more details I heard about the previous day, the more I wanted to disembowel the asshole who’d hurt her. Fuck, if Caine had arrived five minutes later…hell, even one minute later…everything would’ve been so much worse.
Detective Vikki Banerjee sat across from us, short black hair in a sleek bob just past her chin and a sharp look in her brown eyes.
I both hated and appreciated her as she pried detail after minuscule detail from Taryn.
It was important they got as much info as they could, but I hated how small Taryn felt in the bond, how she seemed to fold into herself the longer we spent in that room.
The detective scribbled on her notepad.
How tall was the attacker? How much did the attacker weigh?
Could you detect a scent? Where did he first make physical contact?
Take me through the altercation. Can you draw a map of your apartment and show me how the attack moved through the room?
Do you know how the attacker entered the apartment?
Taryn’s eyes got glassy then, and she nodded. “The window,” she whispered before angrily swiping a tear off her cheek. “I forgot to lock the goddamn window.”
I pulled her into a hug and ran my fingers through her hair, ready to comfort her. Detective Banerjee beat me to it.
“The window not being locked doesn’t make what he did your fault,” she said with understanding in her voice. “Whether he broke the window or slid it open doesn’t make it any less horrific or illegal.”
Taryn nodded as she sat up again, shoulders still hunched but ready to continue on.
My fucking brave omega.
The detective tapped a plastic bag through which we could see the paper Brooks found in the apartment. Photos of Taryn, her schedule, other notes about her habits and appearance. Enough to make my skin absolutely crawl off my skeleton.
“The gentlemen last night mentioned a name possibly connected to this, Heath Torrington?” the detective said.
“Yes,” I nodded, happy to take the reins for a moment so Taryn could catch her metaphorical breath. “My ex-fiance. He harassed and assaulted Taryn several weeks ago. There should be a report filed.”
Vikki nodded and pulled another file forward. “Yes, I looked through that, and it should be enough to get a warrant for Mr. Torrington’s financial, phone, and email records. I’ve dispatched some officers to his home in Pockston to interview him.”
“And what do we do in the meantime?” I asked, my voice taking on a harsh edge. “Can’t you, I don’t know, hold him? Do something to make sure this can’t happen again?”
Damn her, she actually looked sympathetic to my anger. “Trust me, I understand the instinct to push forward now and ask questions later,” she said. “The last thing any of us want is to let a bad actor slip through our fingers because we acted rashly and broke the rules.”
I scoffed, shoving up out of my chair to pace the small room. I hated that it meant letting go of Taryn, but my alpha wanted to snarl and fight until she got her way and was having a hell of a time taking no for an answer.
The timing, mere weeks after Heath’s sudden reappearance, was too suspicious to be coincidence.
Maybe if the attack had been one of opportunity.
A wrong place, wrong time deal. But it had been deliberate, not opportune.
And who else would’ve targeted Taryn specifically?
It had to be Heath. But while the cops were dicking around with warrants and court orders, he was still free to try again.
“Mr. Torrington will be under close police surveillance until we have further information,” Detective Banerjee continued. “If he is behind this, and if he tries anything at all, we’ll catch it.”
“Well, your restraining order has apparently done fuck-all so far, but sure, I feel entirely secure putting my mate’s safety in your hands.”
“Brea…”
“What’s the statute of limitations on his previous assault? Can we press charges and get him locked up for that?”
Taryn turned in her chair. “Brea, seriously, stop.”
“No!” I snapped. I hated that I snapped, but snap I did. “We know who did this! Heath hired a…a… hitman to attack an omega, and the police are sitting in his parlor right now drinking tea and asking him questions. It’s absurd!”
The detective stood and approached me, but it didn’t feel aggressive. It felt… placating wasn’t the right word. Like that, but somewhat kinder, more patient. She was smart enough not to reach out and touch my shoulder, but I half expected her to.
“The moment we connect the assailant to him, we can bring him in. But making a misstep right now means no matter what we find later, he’ll walk.”
My alpha still simmered below the surface, a low continuous growl in her throat, but she sat. Maybe she could sense the sincerity in the officer’s voice, or saw the raw determination in her eyes.
I released a heavy sigh, sinking back into my chair and folding in half, running my fingers through my hair. My eyes closed, and I breathed deeply a few more times as I forced myself to calm down. Taryn’s hand landed gently on my back, rubbing soothing circles.
Goddamn, I was meant to be comforting her , protecting her, soothing her. I sat up with a final sigh and leaned my forehead against hers. “Sorry, Teacup,” I murmured. “Forgive me?”
The corner of her mouth twitched upward at the name, and she tucked a strand of wavy red behind my ear. “Always, Alpha.”
The guys drove us back home, led us back up to their apartment.
There was no doubt in any of our minds, apparently, that we’d be crashing there for the foreseeable future.
As we filed in, and Taryn curled on the couch between Brooks and Lin—the beta laying a blanket over her shoulders, the alpha stroking her hair as she settled on his shoulder—and Caine wordlessly handed me a bottle of soda and settled into the armchair with one of his own, my worry leaked from me.
None of us knew what we were supposed to be for each other, but we all knew one thing. Nothing, and no one, would touch Taryn again. Not without going through each and every single one of us.