Page 66 of Madden

“Well, the window is broken, but it can be replaced. They got into the house, though, and into your studio.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. Please tell me they didn’t destroy anything.”

“The drums are a loss, and the two guitars are destroyed. There’s a massive hole in the wall, but other than that, everything else can be fixed.”

Other than that… like they didn’t come in and ruin the one room in the house I give a shit about.

I start to pace along the patio. Brielle steps in front of me and wraps her arms around my waist to soothe me.

“Hey, hey,” she mutters, trying to get through to me.

My mind races, and my body is alive with adrenaline. I wish I knew who it was so I could find them.

I tighten my arms around her, burying my face into her neck.

“I’m sorry this happened tonight,” I whisper into her ear.

She shakes her head. “No, don’t do that. This isn’t your fault. I would’ve wanted to be here with you through this anyway.”

“I’ll take care of filing the police report and will figure out covering the window, all right?” Abel reassures me. “I’ll let you know if I need you for anything.”

The equipment, the window, all the damages—it can all be replaced. It’s going to cost thousands of dollars, but it’s more so what it represents and the principle of it all.

Brielle slips her hand in mine and nods toward the door. “C’mon, let’s get inside.”

She leads me into the kitchen, where she insists on finding something to cook for dinner for the two of us.

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the counter, watching her browse through the cupboards and fridge to see what we have to work with.

“Do you have any idea who it could be?” she whispers.

“Not a single clue.”

I’m so frustrated. I don’t have the energy to go see the damage. I’ll do it eventually, but just knowing they went into our studio where we practice and keep all our band equipment pisses me off.

I’m trying not to let my temper get the best of me with Brielle here, but this would be the time I’d sit behind my drums and let out some steam.

Thankfully, I have another set in my music room. It’s a smaller space, away from our recording studio. This feels personal, though, knowing they damaged not only my drums but Tysin’s and Trey’s guitars too.

Brielle crosses the kitchen and loosens my arms, stepping between my legs, and I lean into her body, soaking in the warmth of her skin against mine.

She smells like flowers and the scent of sea salt lingers in her hair.

I kiss her neck and trail my lips up to her ear. “I’m glad you’re here with me right now because I think I would’ve handled this differently if you hadn’t been.”

She leans back. “Handle it how?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Sometimes I want to shut down when shit gets to me, but with you here, I don’t want to be that way. I’m trying not to push you away.”

She folds her hand against my cheek, pulling me down to kiss her.

“Promise me you won’t when I leave tomorrow either,” she whispers.

“I promise,” I murmur, kissing her again. “The last thing I want is to push you away.”

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