Chapter 11
DAMIANO
My phone blares with Nove’s emergency tone. I sit up and answer, immediately awake despite the darkness filling my bedroom.
“Break-in at your girl’s place, boss,” Buster says. “We’re going in.”
“Stay on comms. What’s the address?” I’ve made it a point not to know. I want her protected—I do not wish to stalk her or invade her privacy.
“334 Oak Street.”
“That’s in Old Thirty-Three—I thought she lived in an apartment. There are no apartments in Thirty-Three.”
“She moved, this morning.”
During our date last night, she said nothing to me about moving. Maybe there wasn’t a good opening, or she didn’t feel comfortable sharing. I don’t have time to wonder about this as I climb out of bed and throw on pants and a shirt.
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” I say to Buster before hanging up. I don’t want him worried about keeping me updated when he should be focused on keeping Madison safe.
I call Seth as I take the elevator down to his floor.
Even though it’s four a.m., he answers immediately. “What’s happening?”
“Someone’s breaking into Madison’s place. Grab two comms—I forgot mine.”
When the elevator chimes, he’s already stepping out of his apartment. Wordlessly, he passes me an earpiece. I put in my earpiece and open the communication app on my phone. A second later, it connects.
A woman screams. Madison. My heart stops in my chest until Fletch’s voice comes through my earpiece. “You’re safe, Ms. Greene. Wait here. We’re taking care of the intruder, and the police are on their way.”
Protocol dictates the police would’ve been called before Buster called me. They’re following our method to the letter—that’s why I put them on this job. They’re among our best.
A loud thud follows—furniture or a body has fallen.
I press against the elevator door, eager to get out. This is a horrid kind of torture. Seth and I are able to listen to everything going on, while we’re trapped in this fucking elevator taking forever to reach the garage.
As soon as the elevator stops, we rush out. My car’s closer. Through my earpiece, Madison screams again.
* * *
MADISON
There are at least three men in my house, and I don’t know who any of them are.
One of them spoke to me. He came through the door behind me and called me “Ms. Greene” like he knows me or something.
He reassured me just long enough to keep me from fleeing into the darkness of the back yard—a dangerous idea, because I don’t know my way around yet.
Two more men came from the front—where the sound of breaking glass came from. One chases the other, who rushes upstairs.
The man who came from the back hurries past me. “Stay put,” he says again.
Why should I? I don’t know what’s happening and I’m scared and maybe the best place for me would be…away from here. Just the same, I stay put. My limbs lock up and I don’t think I could move, anyway.
Loud bangs come from the floor above me. I cringe at what is unmistakably the sound of someone punching someone else. They’re fighting up there, and I don’t know who they are or why they’re doing this.
A crashing bang echoes, and I scream.
“It’s fine!” a male voice calls down the stairs.
Fine for who? What the fuck is happening? I steal a glance toward the back door. As soon as I can move again, I’ll take my chances in the great wilderness of my back yard, because this is bullshit.
Red, white, and blue lights flash through the front windows, reflecting against the walls around me. Thank god. The police are here.
The sight of the emergency lights cures me of my frozen state. Flooded with adrenaline mixing with relief, I rush to the front door and fling it open. Officers spill out of two patrol cars. An ambulance speeds up the drive behind them.
One of the officers gestures me forward.
I hurry out of the house, but something stabs my foot.
The sting is sharp and immediate. I look down—I just walked through broken glass.
I hobble the rest of the way down the porch steps, dodging the shards and walking on the side of my foot so as not to embed the glass farther in.
“There’s an intruder,” I shout to the officers and gesture behind me. “Maybe three? I don’t know what’s going on, it’s just so fast, there’s all these guys in there, and they’re fighting and—”
“Come here, you’re bleeding.” A female officer with short, blond hair strides up to me and offers me her shoulder to lean on. “The EMTs will patch you up while we figure out what’s happening inside, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
As the officer helps me limp to the ambulance, another car speeds up the drive. Two men get out of the car—two men I never expected to see. Not here, not like this.
Damiano and Seth.
Why are they here, and how do they know where I live?
* * *
SETH
Madison’s pale face, tense with pain, will haunt me for the rest of my life.
An officer takes her statement while she sits on the back of the ambulance, an emergency tech bandaging one of her feet.
I push my way toward her, ignoring the calls of a police officer to stay back.
He knows I’m not a threat, especially when Madison calls out my name.
“Seth? What are you doing here?” Her focus moves behind me. “And Damiano?”
I open my mouth, but all I can say is, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I’m fine, it’s just my foot.” She wraps her arms around herself, shaking, clearly in shock.
Taking off my jacket, I wrap it around her shoulders.
An EMT pauses next to her, one of those foil blankets in his hands. “Miss? I brought you a blanket.”
“Thank you, I’m okay,” Madison tells him before turning to Damiano and me. “Now would you please tell me what’s going on? I gave my statement, but it’s pretty fucking short because I know nothing.”
“There are two men in your house that we sent to protect you,” Damiano says. “They were guarding this place when they saw someone break in. They went inside to stop the intruder.”
As he speaks, officers emerge from the front door of Madison’s house, Buster and Fletch with them, along with a guy wearing all black. The guy in all black has a large cut and bruise on his forehead, and his lip his split. Blood trails over the sparse whiskers on his chin.
“Do you know that man?” I ask Madison.
She shakes her head while staring intently at the guy. He doesn’t even look over at her.
Damiano takes one of her hands. “Is it true you just moved into this place? Has it been empty for a while?”
“My cousin was living here, but he moved out a few days ago.”
The blond officer who had been taking Madison’s statement nods. “Could be the perp was staking out the house and thought it uninhabited. All the lights were off when he broke in?”
“Yeah.” Madison can’t seem to stop shaking.
I want to bundle her against me, share my body heat. I have to settle with standing very close. Kyle would want her supported right now—I’m doing this for him.
Fletch and Buster are giving their own statements to officers, but now that Madison has been evaluated and the intruder is in custody, the energy in the driveway goes down.
“Can she return to the house?” Damiano asks the blond officer.
“Yes.” She nods toward the door. “Be careful of the glass, and you’ll probably want to board up the broken window, to prevent more unwanted guests.”
Before I can lead Madison inside, Damiano stops me. “One of us needs to go to the station with Buster and Fletch.”
Unspoken are the words, And one of us needs to stay with Madison.
The idea of leaving her side physically pains me. I don’t know why; I can’t explain it. Perhaps it’s a residual feeling of wanting to honor my brother’s wishes. He would want her protected and helped. I’d be disrespecting him if I left her alone.
“I’ll stay here.” I flick a glance to Madison. “If that’s all right with you, Madison.”
“Yes…I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
Her formal words put distance between us, but I obliterate that distance when we reach her front porch and I lift her easily into my arms to carry her past the broken glass. She sucks in a surprised breath, but doesn’t say a word until I set her down.
“You didn’t have to do that.” She looks down, away from me. “And you don’t have to stay.”
“I know I don’t. Where’s your room? Can you walk there?”
“Yeah. I can walk.” She starts toward the stairs. “There are other rooms up here, too, but none of the beds are made.”
“How did you afford this place?” I blurt. “Not that it’s any of my business, but it seems impossible on a server’s wages.”
“Well.” She gives me a playful grin. “I’m no longer a server. I just came into an inheritance, and thus begins my new life of leisure.”
She might be giving me a lighthearted answer, but I can see a flash of pain in her pretty green eyes.
“I’m sorry. Who died?”
“My great-aunt. We hadn’t spoken in years.”
“And?” I prompt.
“And I don’t deserve to be sad about it.
But I am sad. I missed a lot of time with her, and if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own petty issues, I might have thought to reach out.
” She gives a self-deprecating laugh. “I know how fast things can change, how people can suddenly be gone. But I still never thought to do anything about connecting with her.”
I know what she’s talking about. One day Kyle was with us. The next day, gone.
I put my hand on her shoulder, feel her soft warmth beneath the jacket I folded her in earlier. “You still deserve to be sad about it. Whatever you’re feeling…you know grief is complicated.”
“You know it, too.”
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Yeah. Anyway. Before we go upstairs, we should probably put some cardboard over the broken window.”
The intruder broke a large pane next to the door handle so he could let himself inside. I’ll also recommend Madison get a new door, something more secure.
We patch up the door and sweep the glass shards away. Madison works quietly. When she walks, she favors her injured foot, but she doesn’t complain.
I check my phone. It’s five-thirty. “Let’s get some sleep.”
“Right.” She starts hobbling up the stairs.
I follow behind, arms out to catch her if she falls. I’d rather just pick her up and carry her, but I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t allow it.
She points to an open door. “You can sleep in that room. I think we can find some bedding in this closet over here—”
“I’ll sleep in your room.” At her shocked expression, I shake my head. “On the floor, Madison. You just had a home invasion and your front door isn’t secure. I’ll sleep close, for safety.”
She stares into my eyes. It feels like she’s stripping away all the bullshit to find my soul. “For safety.”
She shows me into the master bedroom and peels the comforter from the bed, handing it to me along with a couple of pillows. “You really don’t have to sleep in here. The bedroom down the hall is fine, Seth.”
I throw the comforter on the floor near her bed and drop the pillows after it.
“Well.” She laughs awkwardly and takes off my jacket. She gets into her bed, pulling a sheet and blanket up to her chin. “I guess that’s that. Goodnight. Or, good morning, I guess.”
“Goodnight, Madison.” I lie down and pull the comforter half over me. At home, I’d be sleeping in my boxer briefs, but I’m not doing that here. Madison’s freaked out enough as it is—I don’t need her questioning my motives.
But at some point, before it’s fully light, I half-wake up to the feeling of her snuggling against me. Before I can do anything about it, my brain tugs me back to sleep.