Reggie stared at the door, then at Dylan, her breath coming faster. She shook her head.
He put a finger to his lips and pushed her aside.
Her eyes strained to see through the darkened room. Was someone still inside? She trembled. Fear, combined with low blood sugar, was a recipe for disaster.
“Stay here while I check the situation out. ” His warm, minty breath tickled her ear as he whispered, reminding her she wasn’t alone.
She nodded and backed away from the door, thankful Dylan was there.
He eased her luggage to the ground and moved to the opposite side of the door. Drawing back one booted foot, he pushed the door wider. Dylan slipped into her apartment with the stealth of a tiger.
Reggie shivered, unsure if it was from the cold, or from fear. In spite of the chill, her palms turned clammy. Putting hands in her coat pockets, she turned away from the wind. Her mind flashed back to the day she’d left for her trip.
After putting luggage in the car, she’d walked back to the door and jiggled the knob to double check. It had definitely been locked. She stomped feet trying to keep them from freezing.
Where was Dylan? Was the intruder still in her apartment? Maybe he’d been knocked unconscious or was being held at gunpoint? She should go check. Three more minutes. Much to her relief, two minutes later, Dylan appeared in the doorway, his face grim.
“It’s OK. No one’s here but—”
Before Dylan could finish, Reggie barged past him and into her apartment. Her mouth dropped open and her steps froze.
Chunks and slivers of treasured figurines lay strewn on the floor. Her beautiful white leather sofa looked like a dead Polar bear. Guts of stuffing protruded from the slashed fabric. Cushions floated like white icebergs among the living room debris.
Her beautiful apartment trashed. A spark of anger ignited in the pit of her stomach. Trent must have lost his mind. What had he been thinking to break into her apartment and do this?
“Better call the cops.” Dylan’s voice broke into her racing thoughts. He walked over to the door and peered at the lock.
Dylan was right, of course. Calling the cops made sense, but what would be the point? Accusing Trent would do nothing but aggravate the situation. The scenario played out in her mind. After dating for several months, Trent’s fingerprints littered her apartment. He’d simply deny any wrongdoing and being the upright citizen, they would believe him. “There isn’t anything they can do. I don’t even know when this happened. I’ve been gone for two we—”
“Someone trashed your place. And apparently, they had a key, or you forgot to lock the door because it doesn’t show signs of a break-in. You can’t just ignore this.”
“Yes, I can. You got me home and I appreciate it, but I would like you to go now.” Reggie blinked back tears. Her voice trembled, but she refused to cry in front of this handsome stranger. She’d handled much worse than a little apartment bashing. No need to fall apart.
“I am not leaving you like this.” Beneath the quiet voice was a hint of steel.
She glared at him, resenting the sympathy in his voice. She didn’t need his pity or his protection. “I can take care of myself. Just go or I’ll call the police and tell them you’re harassing me.”
“Great idea. And while you’re at it, you might want to tell them someone broke into your apartment.” He smiled sweetly at her.
She cracked a grim smile and took a deep breath. “Very funny.” She moved from the living room to the doorway of the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant odor. Flour and sugar covered the counters and floor. Broken eggs had oozed off the counter and dried into hard globs on the tile. Flies swarmed around the foul smelling concoction.
She eyed the broken shards of dishes scattered about. Her expensive china, chopped into hundreds of tiny pieces, gave a mosaic look to the kitchen table and counters. Was there anything left in her cupboards? The time she’d spent choosing the perfect pattern flashed in her mind. Down the drain.
Her breath quickened. She straightened and turned back to the cowboy who shadowed her every step. He watched her with compassion and concern. She took a deep breath.
Even though she’d caused the accident he’d been nothing but kind to her. No reason to yell at Dylan. He’d been a perfect gentleman. The accident seemed so important just a few moments before, but not any longer.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be yelling at you. It’s just…” Her words faltered.
“Can’t say I blame you. It’s been a rough few hours.” He smiled as he pulled out another stick of gum. He stuck the empty wrapper in his pocket.
She managed a smile. “Still, I don’t need to take it out on—”
Reggie swayed, feeling the familiar weakness coming. Her head began to spin. She took a step towards the sofa, but lost her balance and crumpled to the floor in the middle of a pile of fiberfill.
“Are you OK?” Dylan knelt beside her.
“Need sugar.” She mumbled.
He found a bottle of apple juice in the fridge and popped the top, then lifted it to her lips. After several sips, she grasped it with shaking hands.
Her mind cleared as the sugar worked its magic. Horrified and embarrassed to let this stranger see her weak and vulnerable, she pushed Dylan’s hand from her shoulder. “I’m OK, now. I’m fine.”
“Diabetic?”
Nodding, Reggie stared around the room. From her spot on the living room floor, it looked even worse. She gave in to the tears. This was too much. A lost contract, a car accident, and now this.
Trent had known just what to do to hurt her. She loved this place. Her first real home. And now he’d ruined it for her. Her tears subsided.
“Ready to call the police?” Dylan’s voice was quiet.
“You don’t understand. It would only make things worse. I just…I just…” She shook her head. She closed her eyes and put both hands to her head. Squeezing back tears, she massaged her temples. It will be OK. You’ve survived worse things than this, and You’ll survive this.
Dylan interrupted her internal pep talk. “I’ve got an idea. You obviously need to eat something, and you aren’t going to be doing any cooking here anytime soon. Let’s go find some grub. I could eat a horse.”
She wanted to tell him to just go away, that she could take care of herself. But the truth was she didn’t think she could. Her logical mind told her to make him leave, but she didn’t want to be alone.
Things would be better after she ate. A little sustenance would give her the stamina to face this disaster. She nodded. “Let me change clothes and check my sugar level and I’ll be right back.”
Dylan held out both hands. She placed her hands in his and he pulled her up. Remembering earlier when his arms had held her after the accident, she fought the urge to lean against him. It would feel so nice to have his arms around her.
She stepped back and let go of him. “Does the bedroom look…” She took a deep breath. “look this bad?”
He nodded. “Worse.”
Reggie steeled herself as she walked to the bedroom.
****
Dylan watched Reggie walk into her bedroom, her back ramrod straight. She was one tough lady. Tough, beautiful, and sexy. Feisty, but he liked feisty.
He couldn’t just leave Reggie here to deal with this mess alone. She hadn’t called anyone at the accident scene to come pick her up. So, maybe she didn’t have a boyfriend, if he was blessed.
His gaze roved around the trashed room.
Probably an angry ex-boyfriend by the looks of her apartment. The person had a key.
Just like Daniella. The familiar pain slashed through his heart, as it always did when he thought of his little sister. He should have known she needed him. He hadn’t helped Daniella, but he could help Reggie.
He inspected the room more carefully. The walls were pristine white and the woodwork was a dark cherry or mahogany. A breakfast bar separated the living room from the kitchen and dining area. It was feminine, but not too girly-girly.
The only knickknacks were those little statue things. They must’ve been on the set of shelves in a corner of the living room. A white leather sofa and two matching chairs were the center point of the room. He didn’t see a TV, but he did see a beautiful mahogany cabinet he guessed held one.
He sat on the arm of the chair to wait. He fished around in his pocket for a stick of gum, but found none. Why would Reggie refuse to call the cops? A lawyer should know what to do, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.
He wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. Something about her touched him. She’d been a pistol after the accident, but cried like a baby over broken figurines and spilled milk. There was more to Reggie than the tough exterior she showed the world.
He had to find out what happened and who was responsible. Reggie needed his help whether she would admit it or not. And Dylan never backed away from a challenge.
Maybe God orchestrated this whole thing. Could this be one of those divine appointments his preacher always talked about?
He smiled. A divine appointment with Reggie. Maybe, a divine date could be arranged if he played his cards right. Of course, right now, what she really needed was a friend and that he could do, if she let him.
Reggie walked back in the room. She’d changed into a pair of designer jeans and a silky green blouse. Her shiny black hair draped loosely on her shoulders. Her ridiculous heels were replaced with comfortable-looking loafers.
Dylan whistled. “You look great.”
Reggie gave a weak smile. “Liar.”