Page 53 of Protecting Her Secrets

In her kitchen, the cupboards and drawers are empty. Everything that can be shattered has been thrown to the ground, and everything else—like her silverware—is bent or broken. Her spices and baking supplies are dumped all over the counters and floor, and her fridge is open, the meager contents no doubt spoiled. There’s nothing to be salvaged, not even a single spoon.

“I’m calling this in,” Wilder says, pulling his phone out.

He steps outside while I proceed down a short hallway. Straight ahead is a bathroom, and after flipping on a light, a wave of defeat washes over me. Not only are the contents of every single beauty item she owns destroyed, but “You can’t hide, bitch” is tagged in the same red paint across her shower curtain.

I did this. I forced her to agree to leave him before I’d thought out a plan. She warned me how nasty he was, and I didn’t listen. All I could think about was getting her back. It was selfish and childish.

“Fuck!” I curse, picking up a makeup compact and chucking it to the ground. Why didn’t I think this through? We shouldn’t have let on that she was leaving until her stuff was secure.

The last thing I want to do is see what they did to her bedroom, but since this is my fault, I deserve to see whatever comes next. My boots crunch on glass as I walk into the only remaining room. What I find has me closing my eyes and taking a few calming breaths.

“Jesus,” Wilder drawls out, pushing past me. “I think Ridge was right when he said you’re fucking fucked.”

“Not helpful.” I open my eyes to find my best friend holding up half a pink lacy bra.

“Nice.”

“This isn’t funny,” I say, ripping it from his hand and throwing it back on the ground. It’s safe to assume every lastitem of clothing she owns has been shredded, so I won’t waste my time sifting through the piles of fabric.

“That’s fucking disturbing.” Wilder points to the puddle of white, viscous fluid puddled in the middle of her comforter.

“Think it’s real?” I ask.

“Doubt it. They wouldn’t leave DNA behind.”

“I think that’s a safe bet.”

We hear the cops call out from the front door and Wilder gives my shoulder a shake. “It’ll be okay. All this shit can be repurchased. What’s important is that your wife is safe.”

My wife. He’s right. She is mine. Mine to love and protect. I haven’t done a good job at either over the last fifteen years. I knew her dad was a sexist asshole, that he wanted to marry her off to someone in the club, and I knew she wouldn’t have left me if there wasn’t a good reason, but I didn’t bother seeking her out and talking to her about it. My feelings were hurt, so I tucked tail and ran.

Well, not anymore. I don’t care what it takes; that woman won’t know a day of danger or fear from now on, and that extends to the baby she’s growing.My baby. Any asshole who would do something like this to the woman he’s planning to marry doesn’t deserve access to his child. Me and my conscience will sleep like a baby knowing the two most important people in my life are protected.

“Thanks for coming with me,even if it was a wasted trip,” I say, hopping out of Wilder’s truck.

“No problem. Sorry about everything and don’t worry. Everyone in the department knows about the situation. If they pull into town, we’ll know long before they can get to her.”

“Thanks.”

I walk across the police station parking lot where we met up this morning and hop into my truck. Wilder insisted we take his, since mine is old as mud and just as reliable. Pulling out my phone, I text Skylar and let her know I’ll be there to pick her up soon. She texted me multiple times today asking how it was going, and I was intentionally vague. I felt guilty, but it didn’t feel like anything I should tell her over the phone.

Once my engine’s warmed up, I head straight to Ridge’s place. We’re getting back a lot later than I planned, but it took over two hours to report the break-in and vandalism. While we waited for them to catalog the apartment and take pictures, a few of Bakersfield’s finest questioned Skylar’s neighbors, and it was no surprise that none of them heard a thing. My guess is the club keeps the neighborhood on a tight leash because it would’ve been impossible for someone not to hear what was going on.

After the cops left, we had to meet with the apartment’s management and break Skylar’s lease. Surprisingly, they didn’t charge a fee for the damage or for moving out early. Apparently, they wanted her gone as much as she wanted to be gone because they were worried about escalation.

As I pull up Ridge’s driveway, I look up to find him sitting on the couch with Skylar across the coffee table from him, sitting on the floor. They each have a set of cards in their hands and smiles on their faces. I shouldn’t be surprised Skylar charmed the elusive Ridge, but he’s a hard nut to crack.

I don’t bother knocking, since I know they saw me park. A smile creeps up on me when I hear Skylar’s raucous laughter and Ridge’s pissed-off curses.

“Your woman cheats, Walker,” Ridge calls out.

“I do not. Your friend just sucks at gin rummy.” Skylar tosses the cards onto the coffee table and jumps to her feet, hurrying over to greet me. “I missed you, babe.”

Babe. Fuck, I like that.

“Missed you too.” I open my arms, and she’s right there, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Ready to go?”

“Just let me grab my coat.”

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