Page 108 of Power Shift

“I got a delivery the other day with a custom jersey to match theirs,” I tell her before pushing my key toward the handle.

There was no point. I nudge the door with my toe and watch with a cement block filling my stomach as it floats open, the cheap wood floors inside appearing.

“A jersey? What kind? Did you suddenly start watching sports?”

“It’s a long . . . story . . .”

My entire body seizes up when I stare down at my broken door handle.

I gulp despite my dry throat and push the door open further. Words are a foreign concept. I blink a few times and rub at my face as if I’m imagining the colossal mess in front of me and it’ll magically go back to the clean state I left it in this morning.

“Briar? Hello? Are you still there? You can’t ignore me and hope I’ll just drop the subject.”

A minute passes with the state of my home not changing.

Fear strikes deep when I take a longer look around and realize how much damage has been done. With fist-sized holes in the wall, my couch cushions slashed, and all of the food from inside my fridge dumped out, it looks like a wild animal tore through here.

I shouldn’t go any further inside. Not on my own.

But this is my home. My safe space. The looming danger of whoever did this still being here only makes me want to go inside more.

“I have to go, Mom,” I ramble, unable to hide the fear in my voice. It’s wobbly and weak, and I know she can tell.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

I hang up before her worry convinces me to ask her to come help me instead of who my instincts are demanding I call.

Still standing outside of my apartment, I fumble with shaking fingers to pull up the name of the person I know I need right now.

Every second the dial tone rings, my heart rate speeds up.

He sounds surprised when he answers. “Briar?”

“Lan—Landon? I—” My words get swallowed in a frantic inhale. “I need you.”

“Where are you?”

I grasp my throat. My skin is ice-cold. “My apartment.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“That’s not possible,” I whisper, sinking against the wall behind me.

“It is for me. What’s wrong? Are you safe?”

“I don’t know.”

A muffled curse comes before he says, “Can you get safe?”

I’m unprepared for the swell of emotion that hits me. I suck in a sharp breath and pull the phone from my ear, holding it to my chest as I gasp in breaths. It’s embarrassing, maybe even abit pathetic at how deeply his concern affects me, but I can’t help it.

This man, this emotionally unavailable alpha who seems so sure that we’re not meant to be together, is worried enough about me to drop whatever he was doing and come to my rescue without even knowing what’s wrong.

Blinking away the burn in my eyes, I slowly bring my phone back to my ear. “I think they’re gone.”

“Who?” he snaps, but there’s no bite to it.

“Whoever broke in,” I whisper.

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