Page 60 of Rules of Engagement

"Who says he wasn't already doing that?"

"This is so depressing." I stepped out of the car and walked towards the house, searching every house window, and every parked car, scanning for assailants. Not a single person was around. Was that suspicious? I could only wonder as I tugged my keys from my jacket pocket and took the few steps up to the door with Maddox on my heels. I heard the familiar draw of his weapon, a slight rustle of fabric. I unlocked the door, closed my eyes for a moment and stepped inside.

The house felt totally unlived in. Quiet, still, and cold. It seemed like all the joy had been knocked clean out of it. A decision came to me then, a horrible, unpalatable one. If Solomon didn't make it, I would never live in this house again. It wasn't because of the legal perspective or him owning it solely. No. I couldn't think of living in the space we once shared, not without him in it. It would leave such an enormous hole in my heart, it would be unbearable.

Maddox touched my arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," I squeaked. I pressed my stinging eyes with my palms and blinked away the tears. I reached for the keypad and turned off the alarm. "I need to get my things from upstairs."

"Let me do a walk-through first," said Maddox. "Stay behind me."

I did as he instructed, walking softly while he checked every room downstairs, before heading upstairs, and clearing every room as carefully as he would any suspect scene. Not once did he remark on anything in the house and I wondered if he saw the furniture, or the art, or any of the evidence of my living with Solomon here. Perhaps everything was like background noise to his task.

"Clear," he said, stepping from my bedroom onto the landing. "I figured you’d want to get your stuff from the closet so I'll wait here."

"Thanks." I stepped around him, hurrying off to my closet. I knew exactly what I wanted to get and it took me only a few minutes to grab the things I needed and deposit them in a heap near the door. I moved to Solomon's side of the closet, nearly freezing as I assessed the racks of clothing, which were all similar in style and muted in their hues.

I saw numerous shelves of t-shirts and a drawer of socks, jersey pajama pants that he wore around the house, preferring to go bare-chested. A stack of jeans, and not one rip between them. Shoes and boots that he couldn't step into. A tuxedo in a zipped-up cover. The navy V-neck sweater in soft cotton that I really liked. Hangers holding dress shirts. I reached for a white shirt, feeling sure I must have worn it once around the house. The sleeves were too long, and the tails hung below my thighs. Solomon once told me it was his favorite shirt.

The hamper was in the corner, a black t-shirt hanging over the side. I had a vague recollection of Solomon pulling it off, balling it up, and throwing it over my head, laughing when he made the shot. I hadn’t noticed it before. Now, I reached for it and held it up to my nose, breathing in his scent several times, in and out.

I didn't know what Solomon needed.

I couldn't do anything to help him.

I grabbed his hangers, dashing them to the floor, growing furious at their neat perfection. When the rod was bare, I punched the wall. The tuxedo hung at the end of the rod, virtually mocking me. I stretched upwards. Just as I managed to reach it, I lost my footing and slipped, falling bodily against the wall. I spread my arms and pushed myself off it but as I did so, the unmistakable sound of a click! reached my ears. I froze, wondering what the hell I'd just broken and would it be possible to replace the dry wall and redecorate everything before Solomon woke up?

If Solomon ever woke up.

I couldn't see any cracks in the wall but I spotted a long, vertical opening where there shouldn't have been one. A few inches behind it was another wall, with the kind of pegboard people use to hang garage tools on. Only there was no need for Solomon to store tools inside there, not in his closet! There was a garage at the rear of the house for that. I curled my hand around the edge and pulled on it. The false wall slid easily and some little lights clicked on, illuminating the secret compartment.

It was a tool wall of sorts, except the tools were handguns, rifles, and semi-automatics. Below, slim shelves held various boxes of ammunition. And was that a rack of hand grenades?

Our closet held an arsenal of weapons!

I staggered back, whirling around. What else was in here? I pulled the shelves, and drawers, checking for concealed buttons and secret areas on all sides.

Tears sprang into my eyes, and I darted from the closet, looking around. What else was in here? What else could Solomon have hidden?

What secrets had Solomon kept from me even though we were planning our wedding?

"Lexi?" Maddox appeared in the doorway.

I pushed past him, running to the bedroom that Solomon recently converted to an office. I pushed and punched the walls and tore through the closet, moving onto the guest bedrooms, the linen closet, and the family bathroom.

"Lexi?" Maddox followed me.

I pushed past Maddox again, determined to discover everything possible that was hidden, but he caught me and pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms around me as I wailed and struggled. "Lexi," he whispered, holding me until all I could do was cry before I collapsed against him.

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