Page 64 of Somewhere in the Sunset

“An ex-partner who lived here previously,” I say, and pull out my notepad and pen. “Gracie, you agree things have been hostile with him recently, yes?”

“He wouldn’t .?.?.” she says, rapidly shaking her head as though she can’t bear even the mere insinuation of it. “I know him, Weston. He wouldnever.”

I sigh, because it’s so obvious to me yet not to her. Who else with a key to this apartment would have enough of a vendetta to trash the place? Things have been growing increasingly hostile between Gracie and Luca lately. He hates that I’m in the picture, and he especially loathes the fact Gracie deleted their social media accounts. Maybe this is how he shows his anger.

I point my pen at the security camera in the hall. “Your building has cameras. We’ll go check them out with the building manager. Are both your names on the lease?”

“Yes.”

I groan. It’s not impossible to charge for property damage when it’s the suspect’s own fucking property they’ve damaged, but it makes things complicated. Gracie wells up with tears now, and I stop scribbling notes and reach out to touch her hand. Bill narrows his eyes at the gesture.

“Listen. There’s thousands of dollars’ worth of damage in there,” I tell her gently. “If we find out it’s Luca, he can be charged with felony vandalism. But it’s your property too, so if you don’t want us to file charges, then we won’t.”

“He wouldn’t .?.?.” Gracie repeats, and I think she may be experiencing a delayed onset of shock. “We’ve been arguing more lately, but he wouldn’t destroy our home .?.?.”

“It’s not his home anymore, though, is it?” I remind her. Maybe that’s another element. Maybe Luca’s decided he doesn’t want Gracie to be the one who gets to keep their luxury apartment anymore. “We’ll get this sorted, Gracie. We’ll check the cameras and I’ll write a report.”

“What do I do now?” she asks, her voice timid. She’s so vulnerable right now, I can’t possibly expect her to step foot in that trashed apartment alone.

I run my fingers from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder as I move in close to her. Lowering my voice, I tell her, “Stay with me tonight. There’s a spare key under the mat. Go there now and I’ll be home when I finish this shift in an hour. We can order takeout. Will you be okay until then?”

Gracie nods, but she’s still shaky. I wish I didn’t have to get back to work. She needs me right now, but the best I can do is give her somewhere to stay that’s safe. It’s also a damn good job Luca has left the scene, because I’d love to throw a set of cuffs around his scrawny wrists. Their breakup has been so toxic. Charlotte and I had a clean break, and at first, that was unbearable to me. There was never even a sliver of hope of us getting back together, which hurt like a bitch, but I realize now that keeping clear of each other was the mature way to handle things. We’ve respected each other this entire time and I still genuinely care for her. That’s why I sent her those flowers. It’s a nice, civil position to be in.

Gracie and Luca, however .?.?. They remained in the picture for one another, and now look at them. Luca has completely spiraled. Are criminal charges really worth it for a woman you wanted space from? As much as I hate to think it, Luca clearly still loves Gracie deep down. How couldn’t he?

Gracie locks up her apartment, leaving the mess behind to deal with later, and I realize she’ll have to walk to my place. The sooner this girl buys a car, the better.

“Actually, Bill,” I say, “I think we should give Gracie a ride to a safe location.”

“I agree,” Bill says, even though we both know it’s not necessary. If it was the middle of the night, then sure, we would never let a distraught woman walk alone in the dark. It’s daylight. She’ll be perfectly safe, but Bill can very clearly see that I care about her.

The three of us head down in the elevator and hunt down the building manager. We gather around a computer screen in the management office and examine the security footage from the camera in the fourth-floor hallway. Gracie claims she was only out for two hours, so it’s easy to narrow down the timeframe we need to check, and it’s of absolutely zero surprise to me when we witness Luca entering the apartment. Gracie, on the other hand, withers away into a state of betrayal, hurt, confusion, disbelief. She sobs on my shoulder as Bill requests a copy of the footage and I write out my notes, but it’s a waste of time. In the end, she decides to leave it as a civil matter.

She continues to cry in the back of the cruiser as we drive by my apartment building to drop her off. There’s now only thirty minutes left of my shift, so she takes comfort in knowing I’ll be there with her again very soon. She thanks Bill and me profusely as she climbs out of the car. I don’t move a muscle until she’s safely inside my building.

“Close friend?” Bill says, watching me from the passenger seat with a knowing smirk. “You could just say girlfriend. It’s easier.”

I ignore his teasing and grip the steering wheel tightly as I start to drive. “That ex of hers is a real piece of work .?.?. I’d havelovedbeing the one to arrest him if he was still around.”

“Careful,” Bill warns. “You’re working onnotletting your emotions get involved, remember? In this job, Weston, always go with your head over your heart. Never make split-second decisions based on emotions. That’s how you get yourself fired.”

GRACIE

I don’t recognize the person Luca has become.

He’s not the same Luca I loved. The one my mother adored. The one I wanted to raise kids with.

It’s impossible to deny the cold hard facts when they’re on video. Luca let himself into the apartment we shared together, the one that holds so many memories, and spent ten minutes inside destroying whatever he could get his hands on. I’ve had no contact with him since he barged into the apartment on Tuesday in a fit of rage over our social media accounts being wiped from existence, so what the hell could have possibly triggered this? Has his anger been manifesting all week and he needed a release? Was this his payback? Was it the roses from Weston that did it? At first glance into my apartment upon my arrival home, they were one of the first things I saw. The gorgeous red roses Weston had delivered were scattered ruthlessly across the floor, torn from their box. That hurts more than the fist-sized hole in the TV.

I hear a set of keys jangling and I sit up, holding my breath. It’s almost seven-thirty now, and I’ve spent the past hour curled up in Weston’s bed. I haven’t even turned on his TV. I’ve been alone in the silence, giving myself time to process Luca’s behavior now that the initial shock has worn off. I’ve texted Elena and Maddie to let them know what’s happened and that I’m staying at Weston’s tonight. I call my mom too, and she’s just as aghast as I am, but feels better knowing that I’m not still at the apartment. No one says anything, but it’s clear it crosses each of our minds, the haunting question: What if Luca comes back? What if he hurtsme?

The door opens.

“Weston,” I say, exhaling the breath I’ve been holding. I throw back his comforter and run to meet him at the door, overcome with relief that I’m no longer alone. If anyone can protect me, it’s him. I wrap my arms around his waist and smoosh my face into his chest.

He holds me close and strokes my hair. “Are you okay? Are you okay, Gracie? I’m sorry I’m late. I had reports to finish up at the station, but I’m here now. You’re safe here with me.”

“I’m okay,” I whisper, but he squeezes me tighter as if I wasn’t.

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