I start to go in search of him but stop when I see him standing outside on the deck, still on his phone. Knowing if he went outside that he wanted privacy, I go to the kitchen to get some water then grab my phone out of my bag. I sit at the island and respond to the texts I have from Jamie and Samantha then play one of my word games, wishing I had my computer so I could check on my schedule for the week.
When the sliding glass door opens a few minutes later, I turn to watch him come back inside and can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t happy. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer at first; instead, he closes the distance between us and takes my hand, resting it on his chest. “I’m sorry, baby, but that was the building manager. There was a problem, and they need me to come in to deal with it.”
“What kind of problem?” I ask, not liking the amount of tension I can see in his frame.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He drops a quick kiss to my forehead then orders, “Let’s get dressed and lock up here.”
“Okay,” I agree, trying not to be disappointed that he doesn’t want to talk to me about what’s going on.
It doesn’t take us long to get packed up and into his Benz, and as he drives us into the city, the silence is heavy. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but I’m wondering why it feels like he’s keeping something from me.
When we reach our building, he drives into the underground parking lot, and then we get out and go to the private elevator. He waves his watch over the sensor and his floor lights up. Annoyed and just wanting to be in my space, I press the button for my floor.
“You’re staying with me tonight,” he informs me, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“You’re going to be gone, so I want to sleep in my bed.”
“I won’t be gone all night. I want you in my bed when I get home,” he says, glancing at his watch.
“No,” I refuse, and he growls, the sound putting me on edge.
“Dakota.”
“Braxton, if you want, you can come to my place when you’re done doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
“You’re staying at my place.”
“I’m not.” I shake my head. “I want to take a shower in my shower with my stuff and put on my clothes, and then go to bed in my bed,” I tell him, and just then the elevator doors open for my floor. He steps in front of me to block my way, but I duck under his arm and walk quickly down the hall. When I turn the corner, my step falters when I see a police officer standing outside my apartment door.
“What’s going on?” I ask, walking toward the cop.
“Dakota.” Braxton grasps my upper arm and spins me around to face him.
I study him, trying to understand why he looks so freaked. “What happened?”
“The apartment below you called the building manager tonight to tell them there was water leaking into their apartment. They went into your place to check where the water was coming from and found your place had been vandalized.”
“What?” My heart drops into my stomach, and I look over my shoulder at the officer who’s watching us.
“Please just let me deal with this,” Braxton pleads, and I focus back on him.
“It’s my apartment and my stuff. I want to see.” I pull from his grasp and head down the hall with him right behind me. When I reach the officer, he looks at the man at my back for approval, which pisses me off, but then he steps out of the way.
I walk into my place and can’t even believe what I’m seeing. The entire space is destroyed, the floor covered with water, the couch cushions cut open, fuzz and foam littering the floor, my clothes ripped and strewn across the room and filling the sink, the photos and things from the box I got from Troy tossed across the wet ground like garbage. I barely even register the other people in the room and the quiet sound of conversation. My mind is consumed with the destruction surrounding me.
I take a step up to my bed and feel sick when I see my underwear and bras placed on the bed in matching sets, the only items that seem to be laid out with care.
“Baby.” Braxton takes my hand, and I look up into his worried eyes.
“Who did this?”
His expression grows dark, and his hold on my hand gets tight. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
My eyes scan my place, knowing that if anyone has the ability to find out who did this, he does.
“Mr. Adams.” A man I don’t recognize approaches us. “The police have a few questions,” he says, looking at Braxton, and then his gaze comes to me. “I’m sorry, Ms. Newton.”
“Thank you.”
“Tell them I’ll be a few minutes, Jimmy. I want to take Dakota upstairs and get her settled in my place,” Braxton tells him, and he nods before turning and walking away.
I turn to face Braxton, and his eyes come to me. “I’m not leaving.”
“Dakota.”
“Braxton.” I use his same frustrated tone. “I’m not leaving. This is my home. I want to talk to the cops.”
“You need to tell her.”
At that comment, my spine stiffens. I turn and watch Hanna come toward us.
“Tell me what?” I glance between her and Braxton, trying to understand the silent conversation they’re so obviously having. “Tell me what?” I repeat when neither of them speaks.
Braxton lets out an annoyed breath then looks down at me. “The first time you were on air, the call center got a call from a man who made some unusual comments, and per protocol, they made a note and passed it along. It’s not unusual for that kind of thing to happen from time to time in this industry, but each time you were on air, we were notified that the man would call back, and he seemed to be escalating.” He turns me to face him and takes my other hand. “On Thursday, a package addressed to you was intercepted.”
“And?” I whisper, unsure if I want to know.
“The items inside were disturbing, and the package was passed along to the police.”
“You think whoever sent that package did this?” I ask.
He glances around my destroyed apartment. “I don’t know, but with the calls and the package, it seems to fit.”
“You never told me.”
His eyes come to me, and I know the instant his warm gaze meets mine that he didn’t tell me, because he didn’t want me to worry. Like Jamie, he wants to protect me. The puzzle pieces begin to fall into place—all the times he’s tried to convince me to move to the marketing department, his overbearing protectiveness. It’s all been because he wanted me off air; he wanted to tuck me away in hopes that it would keep me safe.
God, this crazy, crazy man.
I hold his gaze and whisper, “Let’s go talk to the cops.”
Without a word, he leads me across the room to one of the officers, and then for the next hour, I try to make sense of what is happening.
But quickly, I realize I might never understand, yet it’s time I trust the man who has stolen my heart.
Chapter 13
Dakota
I SIT ON the floor in the living room in the dark and look out at the city below me, watching my breath fog up the glass as my forehead rests against it. I should be exhausted after the day I’ve had, but I can’t sleep, which is why I carefully untangled myself from Braxton’s hold and escaped to his living room to think. No matter what I do, I can’t make sense of what happened to my apartment, and I can’t even comprehend someone being so infatuated with me that they would go to such an extreme to get my attention.