Page 161 of The Hookup Situation
“And he’ll lie,” I say. “He’ll have an alibi. His mother will lie for him. She always does.”
The younger officer looks sympathetic but useless. “We’ll add this to your restraining order file. It will help establish a pattern if anything else happens.”
“If anything else happens?” I laugh, but it’s hollow. “He broke into my home. What else does he need to do? Hurt me?”
They don’t answer because we all know the truth. Until he getsphysical, until there’s proof, until something worse happens, they can’t do much.
It takes them two hours to finish taking pictures, taking my statement, and finalizing everything. It’s two hours of standing in my violated space, trying not to touch anything that he might have touched, trying not to think about Craig’s hands sifting through my belongings. Every surface feels contaminated. Every object out of place feels wrong.
“We can’t stay here,” Nick says once the police leave, their cards left behind with case numbers.
“I can’t let him run me out of my own home?—”
“Jules, sweetheart.” He places his hands on my shoulders. “Please. Just for tonight. I’ll have a security system installed for you, complete with cameras, new locks, and anything else you need. But tonight, we can’t stay here. He could be lingering.”
I look around my sanctuary, my safe space, and see it through a different lens. Craig has poisoned it.
“I hate him,” I sob, the tears coming violently.
Nick pulls me into his chest, and I break.
“I hate that he can do this. That he thinks he owns me. That he won’t just leave me alone.”
“He doesn’t own you. He never did.” Nick holds me tight, one hand in my hair, the other rubbing my back. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”
“I don’t want to go to Riverside.”
“Then we’ll stay at Hollow Manor. With Zane and Autumn. Just … not here. Not tonight.”
I nod against his chest, wiping my tears on his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind.
While I pack, trying not to think about Craig’s hands sliding through my dresser drawers hours ago, Nick makes calls. First to Zane, speaking urgently, then to someone else. I only catch bits and pieces of his conversation.
“Yeah, I know it’s late in New York. Someone broke into Julie’sapartment and … we think it was her ex. Can you? Yeah, that would be perfect. Tomorrow? Even better. Thanks, man.”
“What was that about?” I ask, zipping my overnight bag. I’ve packed enough for several days, not wanting to come back here anytime soon.
“Asher. He fixes things. I just want him to be aware, just in case this explodes into something else.”
“I’m sorry. I feel?—”
“This isn’t your fault.” His voice is fierce. “You didn’t ask for any of this. I’m here with you, Jules. We’ll figure this out together.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.”
We drive to Hollow Manor in silence. One of Nick’s hands holds mine, and it’s pure comfort. His other hand grips the steering wheel with white knuckles.
“I want to find him and fuck him up,” he says as we wind up the mountain road.
“Nick—”
“I won’t. But I want to.” He glances at me, and in the dashboard light, his eyes are dark with rage. “No one should ever make you feel unsafe in your own home. No one should be able to violate your space like that.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.” He pulls into Hollow Manor’s driveway and turns to me. He reaches toward my face, and his thumb brushes my cheek. “And that’s allowed. You don’t have to be strong all the time, Jules. You don’t have to minimize this.”
