Page 38 of Outlaws' Single Mom
“No problem, but you’re not going on your own. We’re coming with, just in case, clear?”
Like I could even imagine going back without them at this point. My life is a slow moving avalanche, and they are the ones with the shovels. There’s no way I’ll get out from under the weight of everything that’s happening without some serious lifting power. Luckily, they seem built for it. They’ve gone so quickly from the terrifying men who found my son, to being the only people I can truly rely on. I have to wonder if I’m making a mistake putting so much of my trust in them, but I don’t think so. There’s a brutal honesty to them that I’ve never felt from anyone else.
And I’m finding that incredibly difficult to resist.
21
LASH
Dakota unlocks her front door,while me and Stiff keep an eye out. Jackal’s back at the club keeping an eye on Logan since he isn’t comfortable with anyone else yet. Her door looks like someone tried to pry it open with a crowbar and it pisses me off to see the proof that someone came for her. An older woman opens the door on the landing before hers, giving us dirty looks.
“Hi, Mrs. Vasquez.” Dakota waves at her.
She holds the glare a little longer before her eyes dart to Dakota and her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but instead slams the door shut. The heavy click of the bolt being thrown sounds a moment later, leaving us looking after her.
“What the fuck did she think we were up to?” Stiff sounds insulted. “We’re just standing here.”
“In her defense, someone tried to break into my apartment last night, the police came, and I just showed up again with a couple of gang members. I give it an hour before I’m the talk of the community chat.” Dakota laughs, but it sounds tired. “I don’t really blame her I guess.”
“It’s a motorcycle club, not a gang,” Stiff rolls his eyes. “She’s not gonna call the police or anything, is she?”
Dakota shrugs. “Probably not. People here tend to mind their own business, for better or worse. It’s a tossup if she’d be more annoyed about you guys hanging around, or the cops being here twice in a week. Either way, it’s more attention than anyone wants.” She pushes her door open, revealing an apartment in total chaos.
“I thought you said they interrupted the break-in.”
“They did!” Dakota stares at the disaster in total shock.
I push her behind me immediately in case there’s someone still in there. “Keep back, just in case. We’llcheck it out.” I slip my iron out of my belt before moving in. Stiff does the same behind me.
The whole fucking place is trashed. Books pulled out, cushions ripped off the couch, everything in the kitchen on the floor, all the cabinet doors open with broken plates and cups everywhere. The fridge is open, the temperature alarm beeping weakly, like it’s been going for a while and now it’s just going through the motions, since no one’s listening to it anyway. Fuck, even the TV’s busted. This wasn’t a robbery, it’s straight up vandalism.
Both of the bedroom doors are closed. I don’t hear anything behind them, but if we do catch someone in the act, that’s where they’re likely to be. Stiff and I nod at each other, then nudge our respective doors open at the same time. We take cover behind the frames, just in case there’s someone in there who’s trigger happy.
Nothing.
Her bedroom’s been turned over, but it’s not as much of a disaster as the kitchen and living room. Drawers are pulled out, her closet’s a wreck and the mattress is pulled half off the box spring. “Clear! Not pretty, you?”
“Same, but this is Logan’s room, so honestly not sure this is just how a four-year-old’s room looks or not.”
My chuckle is dark and dry. I shove the mattress back into place to get a look at the nightstand. Oh, we’re definitely bringing that with us home. I’m surprised the intruder didn’t do something with Dakota’s vibrator, but I have no problem pocketing it for later.
We give the bathroom a quick check before declaring the place safe, then wave in Dakota. “Whoever it was is long gone.”
The expression of shock and anger on her face makes me wanna rip someone’s head off. She wanders through the apartment, looking at the carnage. “Why would anyone do this?”
“Searching for something?” Stiff closes the front door before he starts picking up shit.
“It could’ve been whoever the cops ran off. If they came back and saw you were gone. Is anything missing?”
“I don’t even know where to start,” she says in a hopeless voice.
“If they stole anything, I bet it’s just to cover their tracks.” I look around the room. “This is either someone who was seriously pissed off, or wanting to scare you. It’s too much random destruction. Why bother smashing plates or leaving the fridge open?”
“The cop that keeps showing up? Officer Dillard? He said he thought it must be connected to some sort of criminal network. He implied that it was you, but that’s obviously not right.”
“No shit.”
“Could it be the people Georgia worked for? You said her landlord was involved in something.”
