“Get out of the house,” I snarled.
Lucian was shrugging into his jacket, and Nash was doing his best to pull a shirt on over his sweats. I tossed him his sneakers.
“They’re not here. I checked,” Naomi said in my ear.
“We’re gonna have words about that,” I assured her grimly. “Now get back in your fucking car, lock the fucking doors, and drive to Liza’s. Do not get out of your fucking car until your dad comes out to get you.”
“Knox, it’s the middle of the night—”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s the middle of his colonoscopy. Get in the car now. I’m hanging up and I want you to call Nash. Stay on the line with him while I call your dad.”
“Knox—”
“Don’t argue with me, Naomi. Get in the damn car.”
I heard her grumbling under her breath and then the telltale sounds of an ignition starting. “Good girl. Call Nash.”
I hung up before she could say anything else and scrolled through my contacts to Lou’s number.
“Cottage?” Nash asked. His phone lit up. Naomi’s name was on it.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll drive Nash,” Lucian said, snatching the keys off the hook by the door.
“You can’t drive a department vehicle, Luce,” Nash argued.
“Watch me.”
“Yeah, Lou?” I said when Naomi’s dad answered. “We got a problem.”
We came in hot, looking like a high-speed car chase with me in the lead, followed by Lucian and Nash, lights blazing in a Knockemout PD SUV.
My hands tightened on the wheel when I saw everyone, dogs included, out on Liza’s porch. What part of “stay the fuck inside” didn’t they understand?
I slammed on my brakes in front of Naomi’s cottage. Lucian slid in next to me.
I turned to him. “Do me a favor and get everyone inside so they’re not standing around waiting for someone to start picking them off.”
Wordlessly, Lucian nodded, and melted into the night.
“Backup’s on the way,” Nash said as we jogged up the porch steps. The screen door was hanging by one hinge, the door beyond it wide open.
“Naomi said no one’s inside.”
“And she knows that how?” Nash said, sounding almost as pissed as I felt.
“Because before she called me, she walked through the house holding a bread knife.”
“And you’re gonna have words with her about that, right?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re gonna have words.”
I had to admit, it was kind of nice to have my brother back.
“Fuck,” I said when we entered.
“Mess” was an understatement. Couch cushions were thrown on the floor. The desk drawers had all been pulled out, their contents dumped. The coat closet was open, its inventory scattered throughout the living room.
The kitchen cabinets and drawers had all been gutted. The refrigerator door hung open with half of the food dumped on the linoleum.
“Someone was pissed off and in a hurry,” Nash observed.
I started up the steps, trying to keep a lid on my rage. Twice in one night, she’d been violated, and I’d been a step behind each time. I felt…helpless, useless. What good was I if I couldn’t keep her safe?
I heard my brother on the stairs behind me, his ascent slower than my own.
Spotting Waylay’s pink comforter in the hallway, I headed into her room. It had fared worse than the first floor. Her new clothes had been ripped from the closet and dresser. The bedding was torn off, the mattress flipped and leaning against the wall. The picture frames that had hung on the walls most of my life were on the floor. Some of them broken.
“The ex or the sister?” Nash wondered out loud.
Naomi’s bedroom had been hastily tossed. The bed stripped, the closet open and emptied. The same with the dresser.
There was a mess of cosmetics on top of the dresser that I doubted Naomi had made. BITCH was scrawled across the mirror in lipstick.
I was seeing red that had nothing to do with the shade of lipstick.
“Keep your cool,” Nash advised. “You snapping and going off the rails on a temper tantrum isn’t going to help.”
We poked into every nook and cranny upstairs, making sure the place was empty. By the time we hit the first floor again, Nash was pale and sweaty, and two more cruisers had pulled in.
The surrounding woods were painted blue and red from the emergency lights.
I went out on the front porch to force fresh air into my lungs so I could choke down the rising anger.