Page 66 of Fractured Fate

“Good. I have officers in route. Now, can you tell me if anyone is there?”

“Just my friend.” She looked up as Aiden walked across toward her, his boots crunching over the broken glass on the kitchen floor until he came to a stop in front of her. “He checked to make sure no one else was here.”

If Aiden hadn’t been here, she would have fallen apart.

“Okay. Is there anything missing that you can tell?”

“I haven’t—there’s…” Her eyes moved up to Aiden’s, and she blanched. If that son of a donkey… Somehow, she found the strength in her legs to move forward and head for her bedroom.

Straight for her nightstand.

The drawer sat open, and her journal lay there with all the pages shredded. She didn’t even care if Aiden saw her battery-operated boyfriend tucked beneath the journal as he stepped up behind her in silent support.

This final violation of her personal space shifted something inside her, and she wasn’t sure how she would get over it.

The journal was big. Three-hundred full index pages, bound with a thick leather flap that buckled on the front. Burned into the leather on the center of the front cover was a celestial sun and crescent moon; her name in script was burned into the bottom corner. Her ma had given it to her as a graduation gift, and it meant the world to her.

To make it last longer, she sectioned off the pages with a ruler and only added important things, as well as a weekly summary, rather than writing nightly.

Her ma told her they could always remove the pages for safe keeping and have new ones bound inside, but she wanted to avoid too much wear and tear on the inner spine.

Now someone had ruined it, and she would either have to add new pages or let it go. It felt tainted now, and that hurt.

She resisted the urge to touch the shredded paper, knowing that touching evidence wasn’t smart.

“Nothing seems missing,” she finally said in a flat voice.

She turned then, scanning the room, pushing aside the discomfort she felt over her journal.

Her drawers were open; panties and bras spilling out of the top. She wondered if he’d stolen any. It seemed like a stalker-esque thing to do, right? What remained appeared torn and slashed.

“Officers should be there shortly. Do you need me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?”

With no one waiting to ambush her in her home, she didn’t see any reason to keep the woman occupied when she could be helping others. Besides, what more could she do than what she already had?

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you need anything, call me back. My name is Denise. You can ask for me.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte responded, already forgetting the name as she dropped to sit on the edge of her bed, pressing the button to end the call.

Aiden took the seat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his larger frame.

She pivoted her body toward him and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face against him, and cried.

“I’m so sorry this is happening,” he whispered against the top of her head. His large hand moving to rest on the back of her head while his other arm banded around her back and pulled her tightly against him. “I think it’s time to come back to Rosebrook. You can’t stay here.”

She sniffed and pulled out of his embrace, swiping at her cheeks. “I can’t do that. You don’t understand.”

“I don’t, no. I don’t understand why you want to stay here and continue to put yourself in danger.”

“Aiden,” she pleaded, her voice breaking as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. “He told me leaving changed nothing. I think… I don’t know if he meant that if I came back he’d be waiting, or if…” Taking a measured breath to steady herself, she asked, “What if he follows me back? I can’t put my family at risk.” She didn’t include the lingering fear of what she saw in the alley to her excuse.

Her spine straightened at the thought. She looked around at the mess in her apartment. What if they did this?

It didn’t seem like the logical option, considering the personal nature of the destruction. Her eyes shifted to the destroyed journal. The stalker knew about the journal already.

No. That creature didn’t do this, but he might also follow her home.