Page 75 of A First Sight

Relief had me leaning on the doorframe for a moment.

“I told her we’d be right over,” Carson added.

I nodded. “Of course. I’ll go get dressed.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, Carson and I were on our way to London’s apartment. When we arrived, we found a cop car parked in front of the building, and, as we entered the hallway, an officer outside London’s apartment door, holding up a hand.

“Stop. This is a crime scene.”

“This is my sister’s apartment,” Carson said. “She called me.”

“Carson.” London came through the doorway and went straight into our brother’s arms.

My stomach twisted. I’d never seen my sister rattled before, and I hated it.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said as London came to me. “I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if you’d been home last night.”

“Me either.” She tightened her arms around me for a moment and then stepped back.

As we followed her into her apartment, the sight shocked me to my core.

The place had been destroyed. Television. Laptop. The pictures on the wall were torn, the glass shattered. Dishes and glasses in pieces.

What. The. Fuck.

“It gets worse,” London said.

“What do you mean?” Carson asked.

“The bedroom.” London pointed, her finger shaking slightly.

Her bedroom was also trashed, but that only registered subconsciously. The words spray-painted on the wall held all my attention.

u can run but u can’t hide cunt

Carson cursed behind me. I couldn’t move or speak. I could barely think past a single sentence.

Dale had done this. I knew it in my gut.

Only a minute or two passed before Carson’s hand on my shoulder brought me back. When I turned, his expression was grim.

“We need to speak to the detective.”

I nodded. Wrapping my arms around myself, I went with Carson to the main room where London and the detective waited.

“Nasty, isn’t it?” London asked.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. “This is all my fault.”

“How’s that?” the detective asked.

“My ex.” I forced the words out. “Dale Leighton. He was…abusive, and I pressed charges. Then, he started making problems at work, threatening people.” I couldn’t look at London. “Last night, he cornered me at work, demanding I drop the charges. Luckily, our boss showed up.”

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Carson interrupted.

“There was no time,” I reminded him.

“Is that all?” the detective asked.

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