“Fuck,” Nolan said.
“Um, sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but what the actual fuck is happening right now?”
“Vic and one of his men were here,” Nolan said.
My blood ran cold. “Hereat my apartment?”
Nolan nodded.
“They left less than five minutes ago,” Rafe said.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How do you know that?”
“Because we’ve had the building under surveillance,” he said, stalking past me toward the entrance to my building.
“You’vewhat?”
“Sorry, I know it was a violation of your privacy,” Jude said, removing his gun from inside his camo jacket.
“Sorry?” My voice had taken on an edge of hysteria.
“It was for your safety.” Nolan already had his weapon drawn. “Stay here.”
“I’m not staying here,” I said, following them into the building’s vestibule. “What if they come back?”
I had a lot of questions — a lot to say — but now clearly wasn’t the time.
“Stay behind me,” Nolan said.
A month ago, the shadows in the foyer and along the staircase hadn’t bothered me. Back then the biggest threat to my safety had been an eviction notice. But I’d been more than a little edgy since the chase through the woods and my return to the apartment, and it definitely wasn’t better now that I knew Vic had been here.
I moved quietly up the stairs behind the Bastards, surprised by how quickly they ascended, how quietly they moved on the creaky floorboards. Rafe went first, rounding the corner at the halfway point to the second floor, pausing for a split second with his gun raised before continuing upward, Nolan and Jude behind him, like a deadly flock of geese flying in formation.
We reached the second-floor landing and my heart raced when I saw that the door to my apartment was open a crack.
I’d definitely locked it when I’d left for my shift at the restaurant.
The Bastards locked eyes and I had the feeling that they were communicating, that a world of information was passing between them even though they hadn’t said a word.
Nolan looked at me and mouthed the words,Stay here.
I didn’t have time to argue. Rafe kicked the door open and stepped smoothly into my living room, followed by Nolan and Jude. I half expected to hear gunfire from inside, but Nolan returned less than five minutes later.
He slipped his gun into a holster under his parka. “All clear, but?— ”
I didn’t give him time to finish before I pushed past him into my apartment. I got all of three feet before I stopped cold.
The place had been tossed top to bottom.
Deep slashes had been torn through my secondhand sofa, the stuffing emerging like a shock of white hair. The framed pictures I’d found in local thrift stores had been ripped off the wall and thrown on the floor, and my TV — an older model I’d gotten for twenty bucks because a neighbor was moving out of state — was shattered.
My stomach turned and I fought a wave of nausea, then took a step toward the hall.
“You don’t want to do that,” Jude said, blocking my way.
I shoved past him and headed for the bedroom, trying to stay calm, trying to breathe through the pounding of my heart.
It wasn’t good for me, I knew. I’d refilled my meds after my stay at the Bastards’ house, but I’d put my heart through too much stress over the last week.