UP IN FLAMES

“Hell no. I’m already itching to get back to her, so I’m sure as hell not going to spend half the night away just in case she gets sicker.”

“Then you should be home.”

Paul glanced at him. “Like I said, she threatened to kick my ass. You know how she gets.”

Alaric laughed. Emily was a tiny thing, but he wouldn’t put it past her to make good on her threat. “You should pick her up some ginger ale and crackers.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Alaric flipped him off as he kicked his leg off the coffee table and leaned back. His thoughts wandered to the phone call he’d made to Vanessa earlier and a small grin pulled at his lips. He’d flustered the unflusterable and didn’t that fill him with a ridiculous amount of smugness? He really shouldn’t be messing with her, considering the situation she was in, but he just couldn’t help himself.

His own phone sat like a stone on the arm of the sofa. He hadn’t expected Vanessa to call him, even if she’d said that she would. It wasn’t like her, but damn if he wasn’t seconds away from turning into Paul. He wanted her, and he knew she wasn’t going to make it easy, but he needed to proceed with caution. He had a feeling that the more he pushed, the more she’d push back. And while her snappy mouth and fierce personality were a huge part of her allure, he didn’t want her to close him out before he even got in. But maybe…maybe he’d swing by her hotel later, accidentally, of course.

A knock on his front door interrupted his thoughts. He started to move, but Paul got up, sliding his phone into his pocket. “I’ll see who it is.”

“Have at it.” Alaric leaned back as Paul disappeared from the room. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but it could be one of the other guys who worked for him. But when Paul returned, rocking one hell of a “what the fuck” expression, he knew it couldn’t be one of them.

“You have a guest.” said Paul.

“No shit,” Alaric replied drily. “Where is said guest?”

Paul eyed him strangely. “Where I left her-inside the foyer.”

Her? Alaric dropped his feet to the floor in surprise. Before Paul even continued, he already had a suspicion of who it could be.

“Do I even want to know why Christopher Wesley’s wife is here?” Paul demanded in a low voice.

“Ex,” Alaric muttered, putting his beer down on the coffee table.

Paul made a face. “Like that matters. What the hell…?”

Whatever else his partner was saying was lost to him. Alaric left him standing in the living room as he made his way through the dining room. Curiosity was riding him hard. Vanessa had sought him out? Not even calling him, but coming to his house? Fuck yeah. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought. His curiosity turned to apprehension the moment he laid eyes on her.

Vanessa stood with her back plastered to his front door, holding a black purse to her chest in the same manner she’d held the file folder. Tiny strands of hair wisped around a face that was way too pale. She was in another boxy, lackluster suit that seemed to swallow her whole. Her eyes were impossibly wide, the look about them wounded and scared.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.

She flinched and croaked out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Sorry for what?” He made sure his voice was softer this time as he approached her. “What happened?”

Her lower lip trembled as she swallowed hard. “I went home after work to get a few things and discovered that someone had broken into my apartment.”

“Shit,” he muttered, thrusting a hand through his hair. He should have tailed her ass this evening. The muscles in the back of his neck tensed. “But you’re okay?”

She gave a quick jerk of her chin, but her face was still too pale. “I should’ve called, but-”

“No. It’s okay. Did you call the police?”

When she nodded, he cursed again. “Did they just take a report?”

“Yes. I told them about the notes and my car, but there’s really nothing they could do at the moment and I couldn’t-”

“Go back to the hotel?”

She blinked. “How…how did you…? Of course,” she said numbly. “You’ve been watching me.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you. There’s a difference.”

Several moments passed as she seemed to let that sink in. “I didn’t know what to do.” She drew in a deep breath that shuddered through her frame. “I don’t have anyone else…” She trailed off, clamping her lips tightly together and shaking her head.

“Fuck, Vanessa. I told you not to stay in your apartment. You could’ve been home when-”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to…”

Admit that there wasn’t anyone she could go to. Shaking his head, he looked away for a second. Truth was, she could’ve just been honest, but she was too damn stubborn for that. “Are you sure you’re okay? No one was there when you showed up?”

She shook her head. Apprehension flipped to anger in less than a second. Partly due to the fact that someone had been in her apartment again and also partly toward himself. He should’ve fucking tailed her tonight.

Vanessa drew in a shallow breath, drawing his stare. “Everything was destroyed, Alaric-my couch, curtains, furniture, and clothes. Food was pulled out of the fridge, emptied all over the floors and my bed.” She broke off suddenly, her eyes blinking furiously. “Everything. Looked like someone took a knife to it. I have rental insurance, but to do all that?”

At the sight of her valiantly holding back tears, something unhinged in his chest. Vanessa was strong and stubborn, but through the course of his career, he’d seen people break over less things. Having her husband killed, her home broken into repeatedly and having her personal items destroyed was enough to put anyone in shock, especially someone like Vanessa, who would try to control the path of a tornado.

Something like this sent a clear message: the perpetrator was the only one in control. It also said that the person had moved beyond harmless threats.