Page 4 of Lavender and Lightning

“He knew my name. And my nest… what did he do…” Lydia says, her words cracking with unshed tears.

“I know, love. But you’re safe. I’ve got you,” I reply, kissing the top of her head.

And that was the worst of this entire situation. Because this wasn’t a random home invasion attempt. It was morning, when people would normally be getting ready for work, still at home. And he called out not only her name, but her designation. Heknewwho lived here and wanted to get to her specifically. That could only mean one thing: Seth or Darren is involved, maybe even both.

A knock at the front door draws my attention back to the moment, and Lydia nearly jumps out of her skin behind me.

“This is Officer Nyueng. Is there anyone home?”

Lee Nyueng. The officer who was the first person on the scene of Lydia’s accident, and the first person we spoke with at the hospital. After he stopped accusing Lydia of being drunk or high, I found that I sort of liked the beta. He had a bad case of gallows humor, but was otherwise just a cop trying to protect his city, which I could respect.

“Just a minute, Lee,” I call back.

I look down at Lydia, who has her face buried in my shoulder, taking deep inhales of my scent. I whisper soothing words as I extract myself from her embrace, then remove the improvised barricade from under the handle. She sticks close to me as I open the door, and I have to turn back and stop her before exiting.

“Wait here for just a minute, okay? I’m going to go see what’s happening,” I say, ducking down so I can catch her gaze.

My gaze roves over her pale cheeks, now almost translucent, with tear tracks carved into the creamy skin. I reach up and cup her jaw, using my thumb to wipe some of them away and bringing her attention to my face. Her body still trembles against mine, her breath catching as she tries to keep from falling apart. She nods slightly, though I don’t like how her lower lip quakes as she tries to put on a brave face. I lean down and give her a soft kiss before pressing my forehead to hers.

Turning to face the main living area of Lydia’s apartment, my stomach rolls as my eyes land on the door. Or rather, what’s left of it. The frame is battered, the molding on the inside loose or missing from how hard the intruder was pounding and shaking the door. Its handle is barely hanging on, the knob at an unnatural angle. The bottom corner is cracked, with chunks missing and the entire thing bent in. When I reach the door, my heart skips as my eyes trace the spiderweb of damage in the wood and plaster around the deadbolt. It hangs by one of the three hinges, mostly supported by the wall. I have to close my eyes for a moment to avoid looking at Lydia’s bed. I don’t know if I could control myself if I see what he may have done. So I force my eyes to the hallway outside the apartment doorway. As I do, I find Officer Nyueng standing on the threshold, hands clutching the neck of his tactical vest as he looks up and down the hallway. There’s chatter over his radio, but it’s too fast for me to understand.

“Mr. Cooper, lovely morning we’re having,” he says with a heavy, sarcastic sigh.

I snort derisively, rolling my eyes. “Where’s the asshole?”

Lee lets out another sigh, but this one sets my teeth on edge. “Ran. Officers tried to pursue, but he must have had a vehicle nearby.”

“So he’s still out t’ere?” I snap, red creeping into the edges of my vision.

“We’re going to get the forensic team here; see what evidence we can pick up. But for now, I’d like to get y’all’s statements, if you don’t mind.”

I hear the words, but my mind refuses to acknowledge anything except a screeching, wailing inner alarm. Lydia is still in danger. The intruder who turned the solid oak door into kindling in an attempt to reach her, who violated her most sacred space, is still on the loose. I have to get her away from here, to someplace I know she’s safe. And I don’t have a moment to spare.

“I’m going to have our lawyer set up a time for you to take our statement,” I say at last, turning to walk toward Lydia’s clothes storage.

But as I try to take a step, Lee’s hand snaps out and closes on my wrist with almost bruising force. I look down at where he’s holding and then back up to his face, jaw slightly slack and eyes wide. I’m too stunned to speak, which Lee capitalizes on.

“I know that it’s not ideal, but I’m afraid I have to insist,” he says, tone stern and serious.

It takes me another moment to recover, and I have to push down my first instinct to break his hold and retaliate. While it may satisfy the primal urge in my brain to remove an obstacle standing in my way of getting my omega to safety, punching a cop would do more harm than good. I do shake off his hand and take a step back. He matches, still keeping a respectful distance, but clearly taking my retreat as an invitation. I take a slow breath, clenching and relaxing my fists at my sides.

“Will you at least give me a moment? Lydia was… indisposed when this happened, and she’s not decent,” I say through my gritted teeth.

Lee stops unabashedly scanning Lydia’s apartment and gives me a small nod of permission. He turns around and starts talking into his radio. Moving over to the metal bar and four-cube storage that serves as Lydia’s closet, I pick out a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, as well as a zip-up hoodie that I recognize as one of Mateo’s. It should be big enough to close, even with her arm strapped into the sling.

I nudge the bathroom door open with my foot, letting the creaking hinges announce me rather than knocking. She doesn’t answer, and I find Lydia sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her arms tucked tight to her stomach. She’s staring at the wall with a vacant expression, her face still too pale. I crouch down to squat in her line of sight when she doesn’t acknowledge me.

“How much did you hear?” I ask softly, placing my hands on her knees.

“Enough. He’s still out there,” she replies, voice a dry rasp.

I sigh, but nod all the same. I want to take us to the pack house, where I know we’ll be safe to regroup and figure out what to do next, but there’s nothing to do while the police have us tied down.

“Lee is here, and we have to give statements,” I relay, reaching for the clothes I’d brought in.

“What about court?” she asks breathlessly.

I look back up at her, and the stricken look in her emerald eyes cuts me to my core. I’d nearly forgotten about that, but my stomach sinks like a stone. There was no way we’d be able to make it out of here in time. And even if we could, I don’t want Lydia out in public right now, not when that psycho is still on the loose.

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