Chapter 12 - Lennon
TWELVE
LENNON
I’m refreshing my email for the third time since I got the message that Carson is on his way to come and get me. I’ve never been the type of woman to watch the clock when it comes to a man and when he might be showing up, but here I am, watching the clock, waiting for Carson to get here.
It’s ridiculous, really. I’m a grown woman with a career and responsibilities. I shouldn’t be this excited about a man picking me up from work, and yet my heart does a stupid little dance every time I think about seeing him.
The truth is, I missed him today. Which is absurd, considering I just saw him this morning.
I’ve never been this so caught up in a man.
But the hours have felt longer without him, the office more confining, my work seeming to drag on, even though typically my favorite thing is being nosy.
I keep thinking about the way he looked at me when I left his truck this morning.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Carson
Outside.
I gather all my stuff up, not even making sure that it’s neat, and leave the office like my ass is on fire. When I step outside, Carson’s truck is idling at the curb, and he’s leaning against the driver’s side door, arms crossed over his chest, looking like every cowboy fantasy I’ve ever had.
“Hi,” I say, suddenly shy.
“Hi yourself.” He pushes off the truck, closing the distance between us in three long strides. Then his hands are on my waist, pulling me close, and his lips are on mine in a kiss that lets me know he’s missed me the same way I’ve missed him.
Carson takes control of the kiss, his tongue sweeping my mouth, collecting my taste on the tip. I dig my fingers into his shirt, pulling him toward me. Honestly, it gets out of control as we stand there on the sidewalk.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathless and smiling like an idiot.
“I missed you today,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Good.” I kiss him again, our lips making a noise when they meet. “I missed you too.”
We climb into the truck, and I can’t stop smiling as we pull into traffic. Carson’s hand finds mine on the console, our fingers lacing together, and the feeling takes away the anxiety.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Productive. I did some digging around and found a few people who are willing to talk to me. Looked into some background and saw some things we might be able to use. That’s my favorite part of trying to get dirt on people.” I glance at him. “How about you?”
“Good. Fixed some fence, had a heart-to-heart with Devlin.” He squeezes my hand. “Thought about you way more than is probably healthy. Hoped we’d be able to sleep in the same bed tonight.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. “Same.”
We’re still holding hands, smiling back and forth at each other, when he pulls up in front of my apartment building.
The sight of the place that’s been my haven since I moved out of my parents’ house doesn’t give me the feeling of comfort it once did.
It’s almost as if I don’t recognize this place right now.
I haven’t been here since I left for Dark Skies Ranch, and I’m suddenly anxious about what we might find.
“You ready?” Carson asks, reading my tension.
“As I’ll ever be.”
We take the stairs to my second-floor apartment, and I’m already fumbling for my keys when I notice the door is slightly ajar. My blood runs cold.
“Carson…”
He’s already moving, pushing me behind him in the protective way I’ve always wanted someone to do for me, even though I’m going to be right behind him. “Stay here.”
“Like hell.” I grip the back of his shirt. “We go in together.”
He shoots me an exasperated look but doesn’t argue. Slowly, carefully, he pushes the door open wider.
The sight that greets us makes my stomach not only drop but turn too.
My apartment has been destroyed. Couch cushions slashed open, their stuffing scattered across the floor. Books pulled from shelves and pages torn out. My desk drawers emptied, their contents everywhere. The kitchen cabinets hanging open, dishes smashed on the floor.
“Jesus,” Carson breathes, as he looks back at me.
I step past him, moving through the wreckage in a daze. My old laptop is gone. My file cabinet has been pried open, documents scattered. Even my bedroom hasn’t been spared. My mattress is slashed, my clothes pulled from the closet and thrown everywhere.
“We need to call the police,” Carson says, already pulling out his phone.
“No.” The word comes out sharper than I intend. “No police.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Lennon, someone broke into your apartment and trashed it. We have to—”
“We can’t.” I grip his arm, desperate for him to understand. Hell, he should understand this. Of all people, he should understand. “If we call it in, Reagan will know. He’ll have access to the report, to whatever evidence they collect. He might even be the one who ordered this.”
“You don’t know that…”
“Don’t I?” I gesture around the destroyed apartment.
“This wasn’t random, Carson. Someone was looking for something.
And the only thing I have worth looking for is information about the Reagan case.
Only they didn’t know that it’s not here.
They don’t know I wasn’t fully brought into it until very recently. ”
Understanding shows in the depths of his eyes, followed by anger. “That son of a bitch.”
I move through the apartment, picking up what I can. Clothes that haven’t been destroyed. Makeup that I haven’t used previously, and a bottle of shampoo. A few photos from my dresser that somehow survived the carnage. It’s not much, maybe enough to fill two duffel bags.
“Is that everything you need?” Carson asks, helping me zip up one of the bags.
I look around the apartment—this space that was supposed to be my sanctuary, now violated and a fucking mess. “Yeah. That’s it.”
We load the bags into his truck in silence, and I’m trying to process what this all fucking means.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot a text over to Shawn, letting him know what we walked into.
Shawn
Be careful. We don’t know what he might do.
Me
I know. I’m kind of scared.
Shawn
Are you with Carson?
Me
Yeah, he’s taking me back out to the ranch.
When Carson pulls away from the curb, his hand finding mine again, I realize something. Reagan might have destroyed my apartment, but he hasn’t destroyed me. And with Carson by my side, I’m stronger than the sheriff knows.
“We’re going to get him,” I say quietly.
Carson glances at me, his jaw set with determination. “Damn right we are.”