Page 72 of Monster

“What’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“I need you to brace yourself for what you’re about to see, okay? And just know my men have already checked this place out, so we’ll be safe inside. Okay?”

“Dominic. What are you talking…” I cleared my throat.

Slowly, he pushed the door open and ushered us inside. The place was dark, and there was a distinct musty scent from being empty for a few days.

I couldn’t see anything in the dark, but something felt different, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it.

It was probably the energy Dominic gave out that clued me in. Though he was quiet, something about him made me think of a bomb near detonation.

Dominic didn’t give me a choice when he reached over to the side and turned on the light.

I flinched, my brain taking a moment to understand what I was seeing.

My breath caught.

What the fuck?

I stared at him, and he returned my stare with unemotional blue eyes. There was no pity in them, which was good, because I thought that might just be the thing to throw me off.

“W-what happened to my place?”

“This apartment was broken into the night I rescued you and Braxton.”

The wordrescuewas up for debate, especially when it came to me with him, but that was the least of my concerns right now.

Everything, and I mean everything, in my place was ruined.

They didn’t spare a single item, including the couch I had saved up for and painstakingly picked out for my place. The fabric on the cushions was torn—or slashed with a knife—and the cotton spilled out and over the floor.

Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked them away, clearing my vision.

My lips trembled as my gaze roamed about, from the thrown-open cabinets to the smashed ceramic dishes on the floor to the—

I let out a small cry and ran over to my keyboard.

I was vaguely aware of Dominic following me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care at this point.

The keyboard was—

I closed my eyes.

It was broken.

It didn’t matter that I couldn’t play as well as I used to. It didn’t even matter that I rarely touched it anymore. It was the only thing I’d brought from Nevada with me to California, and now it was on the floor, destroyed.

The cords were cut, most of the keys were detached, and there was a crack down the middle, as if someone had stomped on it.

“I’m sorry, wildcat,” Dominic said softly.

I shook my head but didn’t know what I was saying no to.

To his pity? Or that I was fucking lucky Dominic decided to take me because I would have come home to this—or, worse, come home to whoever did this, waiting for me and wanting to know where Braxton was.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, leading me out the door.

I didn’t fight him.

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