If only he knew. Then again, maybe he did. It was clear he looked me up. I'm sure someone could find just about anything online and even more so if the person was in the security business like Owen was.
A college student from a few doors down stepped into the hallway but didn't pay us any attention as he walked to the elevator.
"Do you mind if we take this inside?" I motioned toward my apartment. Better to be safe than sorry and I didn't need anyone else knowing my business.
Owen followed me inside and the reality of what happened hit me full force all over again. The apartment I worked meticulously to make my own was destroyed. The lamp I spent weekends rummaging through yard sales to find, lay smashed in a million pieces. The couch I fell in love with while walking past an antique furniture store was turned upside down and a knife was taken to it, leaving the beautiful fabric to litter my already disastrous floor.
"Do you have any idea who did this?" Owen pulled me out of the dark place my mind was desperately trying to crawl into. The dark recesses of my mind got me through many agonizing nights.
"I know exactly who did it, but this changes nothing. I can't pick up and move to Willow Creek. Not now."
Owen looked around at the same disaster I was seeing. Except he didn't know the crocheted blanket on the floor was handmade by my grandmother and given to me as a graduation gift. Most of the kids I went to high school with wanted money or cars to celebrate their milestone. I had been happy with the gift made from love.
"I would think now would be the perfect time since you can't stay here."
"Sure I can." I shrugged my shoulder like it was no big deal.
"Someone broke into your apartment and destroyed the place. This building isn't safe."
I didn't mean to do it, but hysteria took over. Laughter bubbled out of me so hard I had to bend over just to try and control it a little.
It didn't do any good. Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes and I was positive Owen was questioning my sanity.
Hell, I was questioning it.
When I finally got myself under control—well, somewhat—I wiped a stray tear off my cheek and looked into his oceanic-blue eyes. "Not sure how good you are at your job but no one broke in. They used a key."
Owen stomped over to the door and checked for himself. At least I can only assume that was what he was doing—he looked at the lock, the doorjamb, back at the lock, back at the doorjamb, and even stepped into the hall a few times. This went on for a good two minutes before he charged back to where I stood.
"Why the hell would someone who has a key to your apartment trash it? And how exactly do you know what happened?"
He wasn't going to quit and I didn't have it in me to keep dodging questions. At this point I might as well tell him about my crazy life. Maybe that would get him to leave me in peace and head back to Willow Creek, far away from my insane problems.
"Because it was my stepbrother. He all but told me this was his plan as he yelled at me on the phone. I thought I had time to leave before he got here but he was already outside in the hallway. Thankfully, Mrs. Robbins likes to keep her balcony door open, so I jumped from mine to hers and asked if I could hide there until things calmed down."
If I thought my explanation would scare Owen off, I was wrong. The shade of red that moved up his neck and face told a different story and I wasn't sure I was ready for the blowup.
CHAPTER THREE
Owen
She jumped from balcony to balcony. I couldn't believe that was seriously what she was telling me right now. I considered myself a laid-back kind of guy but right now my blood pressure was through the roof and I was sure my expression said as much.
"You didwhat?" There was no controlling the bite in my tone.
"The front door wasn't an option and the balconies aren't that far apart."
I headed straight for the glass door that led to the outside to see exactly what Annalee's definition of “not far apart” was.
"You consider this close?" There was at least four feet between the two wrought iron railings. Not to mention we were on the third floor, so the drop, if she had fallen, wouldn't have been pretty.
"I didn't say they wereclose. I said they weren't that far apart. Big difference."
Was she really arguing semantics with me? I wanted to shake some sense into her.
"You could've fallen and gotten seriously injured or died." It didn't appear to be sinking in.
"But I didn't. Besides, I was running on pure adrenaline at the time. I could've lifted a car."