Page 68 of Molly

“Mr Anderson, I’ve downloaded the security footage. Does this woman look familiar to you?” Ben, the on-call security guard, asks as he walks down the hallway towards me. He hands me his tablet, careful to step around the glass on the floor. I nod and press play on the video, recognising the woman immediately. I watch it the whole way through, cringing every time she rips a frame off the wall and throws it to the ground. Surprisingly, she doesn't go into the rooms, just tears apart the front. I replay the footage and press pause as she grabs the baseball bat we keep behind the counter and goes for the coffee table. I hold the tablet out, passing it to Beckett. He takes it, and his face pales instantly.

“You want to tell me why your ex-fiancé trashed our shop, Beck?”

He looks up at me, his eyes barely focusing. “I'm so sorry, Ry.”

I nod. “Why would she do that?”

He hands me back the tablet and wades through the broken glass before taking a seat on the couch. “I.... we... she's been messaging me a lot. Says she wants to get back together. We had an argument when she came here. Penny... she was here. I went after her when she took off. I thought Paige left before I did... maybe she was in the parking lot? I don't remember locking the front door.”

“That makes sense, considering there was no sign of forced entry. We noticed the damage when doing a perimeter check. The alarm didn't alert us to anything,” Ben says.

I nod again. “Right. Well. We'll handle the rest then.”

“Do you want me to call the police?” Ben asks.

I look at Beckett, silently asking how he wants to handle this. He shakes his head and lowers it into his hands.

“Nah, leave it with us. Thanks, mate,” I reply, grabbing the tablet off the couch, handing it back to him.

Ben nods, packs up and heads for the exit, leaving Beckett and me alone. I sit down next to him with a groan and pat him on the back.

“Well, the good news is, she didn't trash our equipment, just out here.”

He stands quickly and almost loses his balance. I try to help him, but he pushes my arm away. “Don't. Just don't,” he mumbles.

“Beck...”

He shakes his head and heads for the door. He pauses before he opens it. “I’ll come in first thing. Call everyone we’ve got booked in for tomorrow and reschedule them. I'll clean this shit up, too. It's my mess.”

“Talk to me, man. What the fuck’s going on?” I ask.

He hunches his shoulders. “I can't. Not tonight.” I watch him walk down the street through the glass and decide to leave him, for now.

Knowing Beckett isn’t going to be in any state to reschedule clients tomorrow morning, I pull up our appointment book on my phone. Thankfully, we only have five clients scheduled, so I shoot them each an email explaining the situation, apologising for the inconvenience and asking them to call us to re-book whenever they’re ready.

???

By the time I’ve finished the emails, swept up the glass and bagged most of the torn-up paper, I realise it's almost 4:00AM. I walk over to the front door, make sure that it shuts and locks with no issues, and then drop down on the couch.

Fuck, I should message Molly.

I lay down, throw my legs over the edge, and pull my phone out of my pocket. Shit. She's sent me five messages.

ME: Hey, baby. Sorry, been a fucking night. Going to have a power nap on the couch and finish cleaning up in the morning. Will fill you in tomorrow. I love you.

I lock my phone and drop it to my chest. I close my eyes and fall asleep within seconds.

38

MOLLY

“He never messaged you back? Seriously?” Evie asks, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Nope. Woke up at 7:00AM and tried to call him again, no answer.”

“Did you stop by his place on your way in? Maybe he just went home after. Maybe his phone died? Maybe... oh fuck, I don't know. Just don't jump to conclusions, girl.”

I nod, knowing she’s probably right. My anger overtook my worry about two hours ago, though, so I'm not in a logical mood. “I didn't have time. Pen rocked up late this morning. She looked fucking terrible, by the way. What time did she get home?”

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