“What the—”
There is no time to react. Reflex has my jaw dropping open in shock, even while both of them start turning our apartment upside down. Couch cushions are thrown on the floor. Desks are flipped, searched, and not put back to the way we had it pre-search. Curtains are torn down. Bedroom doors are kicked in, and our rooms are searched. They’re like twin tornados, flitting here and there as they go through our personal possessions.
Just watching them is pissing me off, making my blood boil. “We don’t have drugs here, idiots!”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Doppelganger Bieber calls out, snapping his gum in that nasty cavern of his.
My eyes stray to Jenna. Her gaze meets mine. I can feel the tears burning the back of my throat, and clearly see hers gathering along the surface of her eyes. We’re both pissed. Confused. Hurt. Not really sure what we’re feeling more of in this exact moment, but we do know we don’t deserve this.
“Well, looks like nothing’s here,” cop one, Talon, states, frowning hard as he peers all around him in confusion.
Our apartment is a mess, plain and simple. It’ll take us hours to clean this up, and if Jenna is anything like me, she’ll need everything organized before she can try to get any sleep.
Fuck my life.
Doppelganger Bieber snorts at Talon’s words, and when my gaze swings toward him, that’s when I see it. He’s not upset that he’s here, and nothing came out of them ripping our apartment apart. An apartment we just finished setting up before dinner tonight.
No. He’s freaking enjoying himself, the grin practically eats up his entire face as he stands there looking between Jenna’s and my crestfallen expression.
He chortles, then rolls his eyes. “Of course, nothing here, Tal. Let’s go.”
Jenna and I remain frozen while they slip out of the apartment just as loudly as they entered. Neither of us says anything for quite some time, choosing to stand—she against the kitchen counter and I near the television stand up against the wall that connects to her room—and stare at everything they wrecked in their quest to find something they knew wasn’t here, to begin with.
My heart falls into the pit of my stomach, pondering over how extensive this is going to be to clean up. The hours we will need to dedicate to straightening the flipped furniture, desks, tables, and movies. The hours we will have to go without sleep to clean up … and for what? What reasoning did they have to come in here?
Something doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’m gonna check something out,” I speak softly, then walk toward our apartment door and thrust it open, sticking my body halfway out the door.
Both security watchmen are still talking and laughing … as they make their way out of our apartment complex. I can’t see them, but I listen until their voices are barely a whisper above the humid breeze circulating through the loggia.
Stepping back, I slam the door and lock it, staring at the chipping paint right below the peephole. “They just left.”
Jenna snorts, then mutters something under her breath that I can’t quite hear. Turning toward her, I take her in, seeing the aggression fighting for power in her tiny body. She’s much different on the outside, but she’s the same Jenna Doyle on the inside, and she’s pissed.
“What?” I question.
My cell phone chirps at the same time she opens her mouth. While I need to find out what she said, it could be Maverick getting ahold of me, and I don’t want to miss it. His night terrors are terrible sometimes, and even though I’m two hours away, I refuse to let him go through it alone.
Stepping over quilts, sofa cushions, desks, and a few decorations, I finally make it to my room. The light is already blazing brightly, so I make my way toward where my phone was before the raid.
I feel her presence before she says anything.
“Don’t you think it’s funny how he said, ‘of course, nothing’s here’?”
I shrug a shoulder, uncaring what she has to think because it’s now four in the morning.
Another chirp sounds out, and I toss my pillow out of the way to see it laying there on the floor face down. “I dunno, Jen. Stranger things have happened.”
“Like what, Lo?” I can practically feel a stint of Detective Jenna Doyle trying to pop out like a blemish on oily skin. Was wondering how long it’d take her to chime in on the whole thing. Jenna isn’t known for being silent. “Just hear me out …”
And there it is.
“Jenna, please, not right now,” I release around a tired sigh as I blindly fiddle with my phone. Maverick will be so upset if I miss him. While he should be asleep right now, beggars can’t be choosers.
“Two meatheads come to our apartment, right? Flip the entire place upside down, then leave without a word. They were searching for drugs, yet we’re the only apartment they examined. Coincidence? I think not. Please, tell me you’re not this naïve.”
I turn toward her, deadpanning, “What are you babbling about?”
“This. Was. Planned.” She nods once like she has it all figured out.
No one would be pathetic enough to do this. A really immature person would … ding!
Huffing, I look down at my screen, expecting to see a tiny picture message from Maverick. He tends to draw pictures when he can’t sleep and steals his Poppy’s phone to send them to me through SMS.
When I see what it is, a sliver of dread climbs my spine. A number not in my directory is still flashing across my screen before minimizing to the top. It’s local; that much I can tell by the area code. But I’m unfamiliar with it.
“What is it?” Jenna asks, and it doesn’t register that she’s moved until she’s taking my phone out of my hand and clicking on the message at the top.
Cuss words aplenty fall from her lips as she, too, seems to connect the dots. We both know exactly who this is because no one would be dumb enough to broadcast his involvement in the “fake” raid.
1-(404)-279-4576: It’s only going to get worse.
1-(404)-279-4576: Leave while you still can.
1-(404)-279-4576: Cry uncle, baby, and make sure you’re kneeling when you do.
If he thinks I’m going to tuck tail and run, he better get those tissues handy, because I’m about to kick him where it hurts. No one will make me do anything I don’t want to. Maverick’s and my future is more important than some silly boy playing high school games.
Being a single mom has made me stronger than anyone I know. The moment we picked up and moved to Gammy’s, I quit school, got my GED, and started working. I knew that if we were going to survive while here at GOU, we needed a little nest egg. So, I worked and saved. Anything I didn’t need to spend was put into a savings account.
Months went by, and with my family’s help, I had everything I needed for Maverick. The only thing I had to do was make sure I kept up with his necessities. I went back to work three weeks post-birth. Thankfully, the little old lady at the library allowed me to carry Maverick around while I was restacking shelves and doing other secretarial things.
I made it without Hunter, and I will continue to keep doing me long after he’s gone. I wouldn’t have worked myself to the bone, breastfeeding the same time I restocked shelves at the local library, taking the risk of people seeing some sixteen-year-old in a state of undress. Hunter has never had to give anything up in his life. He’s had a silver spoon tucked in his mouth ever since he was born.