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Jinn

I mumbled into Lyric’s chest. “I feel different.”

“How?”

“Like I'm new. Like I'm free. Like I'm finally safe.”

My alpha hugged me tightly.

We slept some more, woke hard again in the middle of the night and made love again. It seemed to be our natural state for now. No complaints from me.

I woke with the sun in my eyes.

Lyric was up and pacing before the window, phone to his ear. He spoke too softly for me to make out the words.

I sat up, the sheet pooling at my groin. I was half hard which was unbelievable after the night we'd had.

Finally, Lyric took the phone from his ear and faced me.

“You're awake.”

“Any word about Colt?”

He shook his head. “Nothing yet."

I bowed my head. “They haven't caught him.”

“No.” He came to sit beside me. “But they will. Count on it. And you're safe here. With me.”

“I know. But I just wish he wasn't on the loose.”

“How about some breakfast?”

It sounded great. I needed protein after all we'd been through.

“Great. I'll have it delivered. I’d take you out to eat to celebrate our… bond. But you have nothing to wear.”

Our bond. It sounded so final. But I didn't have any problem with that because Lyric was the most wonderful alpha ever.

“All my clothes are at home.”

“I'll take you out later and we can gather your stuff you might need. Because you'll be staying here where it's safe. For as long as you want.”

“Thank you. I still can't believe...”

“Me, either. But Lyrican says not to question, not to keep thinking too much. It's his mantra.”

“Jinnan feels the same. But... are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Still thinking too much. Questioning.”

Lyric leaned in and took me into his arms in a tight embrace. “Not about you. Never about you.”

“About yourself?”

He smiled at me and kissed me. “I'm always questioning myself.” He laughed.

“You shouldn't.” I stroked my palm down his cheek. “You're perfect.”

I used my new phone to call my landlord and ask him to meet us in the afternoon and to let us into my apartment. I’d lost everything when Colt had kidnapped me. Phone. Wallet. I.D. Keys.

Then I called in to work to let them know what was going on with me and that I wasn’t sure when I’d be back.

I was afraid to go anywhere with Colt still on the loose.

To go out, I changed into the only clothes I had, the hospital scrubs.

As we drove up to my building, I saw the empty space where my car should be. I realized it was still at work.

“At least I still have my car. It’s at my place of work. And the spare keys are in a kitchen drawer. Can we go get it after this?”

“Sure. We’ll take it to my house for now,” Lyric said.

We parked at the apartment and went up the walkway. The landlord was waiting. I didn’t like the look on his face.

As we got to the door, he shook his head. “I found the door like this when I got here.”

I glanced past him. It was ajar.

“It’s a mess inside,” he said.

“What?” If anything, I was tidy. It wasn’t a big place, so it was easy to keep clean.

I hurried forward on my crutches and pushed the door wide open. If not for my crutches, I would have fallen to my knees.

Inside, I could see the living room and open kitchen. Furniture had been moved and tipped on its sides. Knick-knacks and pillows were thrown to the floor. There was broken glass on the carpet and my TV screen was cracked.

Slowly, I stumbled in. The place had been destroyed.

Lyric put his hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“You’ll need to make a police report. Do you have renter’s insurance?” The landlord was talking too fast.

“Colt did this.”

Without looking back at the other two men, I limped to my bedroom and gasped.

The mattress was off the bedframe. Blankets and clothes were scattered everywhere. They’d been torn and some sort of dark liquid poured all over them. It smelled like tar.

Nothing was left untouched. Nothing was salvageable.

After that, I remembered very little. The cops came and talked to me and took a report, my second in as many days. Their words went in one ear and out the other.

Afterward, Lyric led me out to the parking lot.

“I found your spare car keys where you said they were.”

I nodded. “At least I have that.”

As Lyric pulled into the parking lot of the building where I worked, I directed him to my car. A flutter of panic went through me. This was where Colt had grabbed me. My car was still there. I thought the police might impound it as evidence, but it looked untouched.

We drove up to my car and my breath shot out of me. More shock and pain. I’d spoken too soon about having my car back. I jumped out and circled it, breath held. Every tire was flat. The sides were keyed and something sticky, like the tar in my apartment bedroom, had been rubbed onto the door handles.

I let out a low keen.

“We’ll have it towed and fixed.” Lyric stood behind me, hand on my shoulder again, warm and supportive. “My mechanic is very reliable and fast.”

Lyric led me back to his car. It was a good thing he was there. I could barely see.

When I was seated, I put my hands to my face and started to silently cry.

Lyric got in the driver’s seat and sat quietly, his hand on my arm, as I let my emotions flow.

After my body stopped heaving for breath, he petted my hair away from his face and handed me tissues. He kissed the side of my wet, hot face.

“I promise we’ll fix everything. It will be okay.”

“Who does something like this?” I wiped my tears.

“Someone who is very broken,” he replied.