Page 35 of Stolen Sun

“Yes.”

I wait for him to tell me more, but he doesn’t.

My phone chimes, notifying me that my security system has been disabled again, and I tell Declan.

“That’s my guys.”

“Why do you have ‘guys’?”

“I keep security to watch my warehouse, office, and trucks,” he explains.

“Oh,” I say, realizing I just overstepped. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business why you have security. I’m just on edge right now.”

“I’ll handle it,” he promises, closing the subject.

We spend the next several minutes in silence. My thoughts are running in circles, and my questions have me jumping to conclusions. I’m hoping this is all just a coincidence, and my security system just happened to glitch out. Either way, I’m calling Grant tomorrow.

Declan’s phone rings, and he pressesANSWERon his dash screen.

“What did you find?” His voice is thick with restraint.

“Whoever it was turned the place upside down looking for something. Not a robbery. The jewelry box wasn’t touched, and no electronics seem to be missing. The alarm system doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with, so they either knew the code or hacked it. We’ll wait here to go through the video surveillance with you,” the man says, and Declan ends the call without a word.

I shiver at the thought of someone knowing my security code and searching through my house.

“What the hell do they want?”I wrap my arms around myself.

“Noel, I’m going to take care of it,” Declan says through clenched teeth.

He parks in front of my house on the street because his car hauler is still attached. In a hurry, I grab my bag and reach for the door handle. Declan grabs my arm before I can open the door, forcing me to look at him.

“I won't let anything happen to you,” he says and pulls a gun out of the glove box before getting out of the truck.

I was not prepared for what was waiting for me on the other side of my front door. My house is destroyed. Pictures from the walls are scattered on the floor. Couches and chairs are turned over—the cushions ripped.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe out.

Declan grabs my hands from my face and pulls me into him.

“Show me where the tapes are,” he says, forcing me to focus on him instead of the chaos around us.

I stare at him for a moment, shaking my head in disbelief and trying to get myself under control.

“Noel, the security cameras. Where are the tapes?” He asks forcefully, trying to get me past the shock.

Taking a deep breath, I bring Declan and one of his security guys into the master bedroom closet. Everything is a mess. My bedroom even has holes in the walls.

Suddenly, I’m very thankful that the older gentleman who installed my cameras recommended putting the recording hub in my safe. I press my thumb into the scanner until I hear the lock release and swing the door open.

Declan removes the USB drives from the hub and passes them to the man whose name I still don’t know. Then he looks over at me and says, “Pack a bag.”

Confused, I look between the man and Declan. The man nods at Declan and leaves us alone in my ransacked closet.

When his footsteps fade beyond earshot, Declan says, “You’re staying with me tonight.”

He looks around the closet and walks past me while I stand completely still and useless. When he stands in front of me again, he hands me an overnight bag.

“I’ll be right outside the door.”

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