Frankie's point of view:
"I think we have everything, Miss Fields." Constable Jefferys says, tucking away the black notepad in his inner jacket. "I must stress however how much we recommend you don't stay within the premises tonight. At least not until the forensic report is back and especially until the door is repaired. Is there anywhere you can go, someone you can stay with?"
"She can stay with me." Jason replies quickly.
Constable Jefferys nods and smiles at me sympathetically. "The forensic team will be in touch as soon as they know anything. We'll be in touch, Miss Fields."
The crunches of broken glass squeak beneath Jason's feet as he walks the officer to the broken door. Still numb, I pull tighter on Jason's suit jacket that he wrapped around my shoulders and stand just as still as I had been the past hour.
My entire home was ruined. Every picture, broken. The couch, ripped. The kitchen, smashed. My bedroom, upside down. My safe haven was completely and utterly destroyed. Officers had arrived in minutes, forensic team quick to follow to swab the broken lock and opened cupboard doors. With the officers, and Jason's, help we discovered that nothing was missing. My jewellery box was emptied over my dresser but everything was still there, my clothes threw and ripped into shreds on the bedroom floor, but nothing stole.
It was a hatred crime - not a burglary.
They didn't want to steal my possessions, they wanted to ruin them.
"Frankie?"
Jason reappeared, his bow tie missing and his top two buttons of his shirt undone. The wrinkles crease across his forehead and his eyes swam with worry and concern. I open my mouth to speak, but the words jam in my throat.
"Do you want to grab a few things?" He asks softly, cautiously tiptoeing over the hazards on the floor. "You can stay at mine until the report comes back and until the locks get fixed."
"I-I don't want to intru-"
"Don't even finish that." He interrupts. "Go on, grab a few things and lets get out of here. Graham's waiting."
I slip of his jacket, handing it back to him before creeping down the hallway. My skin crawled with every step, uncomfortable goosebumps covering me from head-to-toe. I wasn't safe here any more. This wasn't my home.
Stuffing a handful of clothes that weren't torn into a old gym bag, I lower myself to the bottom drawer and hunt for the wooden box that was hidden beneath clothes. I almost cried in relief as my fingers graze the sharp corners. Packing it inside my bag, I lug it over my shoulder and meet Jason back in the living room.
"I thought you would want this." He says quietly. He twiddled with something between his fingers and hands me it cautiously. The photo frame that it sat in was smashed into smithereens but the perfect picture was still intact. My parents, myself and my sister.
"Thank you." I shakily whisper. "I think I-I have everything."
He slips the bag from my shoulder and tosses it over his own, then holds a welcoming hand out. "Come on."
With my trembling hand clenching his, he leads me back downstairs and out into the car. As Graham drives away from my apartment block, the nausea pulses in my throat as realisation becomes clear. Someone was out to get me - but why?
"There's a officer going to wait at your apartment until the locks get changed in the morning." Jason tells me, stuffing his cell back into his trouser pocket. "I still don't feel safe enough for you to go back there."
"I don't have a choice."
"You do." He replies quickly. Clearing his throat and fluttering his eyes away from my confused gaze, he reaches to scratch the back of his flushed neck. "Christmas is in a week - then you're going home to spend the holidays with your family but until then I'd - I'd like it if you were to stay with me. I mean, well, my house is big enough to stay at separate ends if you would like and at least then it would give the officers a while longer to catch the culprit in case they go back to your apartment."
I could taste my own pulse. A overwhelming feeling coursing through my veins and heating me to the core. My brain scrambled for words, waving the red flags in desperation for some common sense to be resorted instead of this giddy, giggling school girl that had brainwashed me.
"I'm sorry." He sighs. "I shouldn't have said anything. Listen, if you want to go back home early I'll book you time off. You'll still get paid, we'll postpone the designs for the Chalets' and get them sorted in the new year and-"
"I'll stay." I blurt quickly without any process. "Only if it's no bother."
"None at all." He assures with a gentle smile. He doesn't push for any more conversation, so the comfortable silence lingered until we reached the gated community almost twenty-five minutes away from the hustle of the city.
His house was beautiful. Stone exterior and wide windows, a balcony at the front being held up by pillars and overlooking incredible grounds. It was much like his parents house - minus the fountain out front.
Graham stops, holding the door wide for Jason who turns and holds out a hand for me with a small and gentle smile at my hesitation. I step onto the concrete of his driveway, glancing to the huge house before turning back to Graham.
"Thank you Graham and I'm sorry for the trouble." I apologises.
"No trouble, Miss Fields. I'm glad your safe." The first words he had ever spoke to me and the surprised look on my face at his English accent made him chuckle. Gathering the front of my stained dress, I follow Jason up the steps to the beautiful crafted doors.
"I haven't been here in a while." He speaks, lowering my bag to the bottom of the single staircase that curls to the upper floor. "I usually stay at my apartment back in the city. It's easier - smaller. This is just to big for one person."
I nod, trailing my fingers over my upper arms. "You didn't need to bring me here. I could've checked in at a hotel, rented somewhere else."
"I never had a reason to come here." He tells me, glancing around at his surroundings almost like it was a foreign place. "So, uh - living room is that way. Kitchen, this way. Do you want me to show you to your room?"
I nod and slowly trudge behind him. The white hallways were bare and cold, causing our synced footsteps to echo. We stop before the end door, and he pushes open the door to his left.
"The sheets are new. Nobody has stayed here before." He tells me, eyeing the ridiculously huge queen-sized bed. "Bathroom is in there, closet in there. I'm literally on the other side of the stairs, third door down, if you need me."
He stands quietly, just as quiet as me, before clearing his throat and ruffling a hand through his hair. Rubbing his thumb over his lower lip, he glances too me and grabs my gaze. It was like a hole was being burnt through me, his eyes were like flames and I was being thrown into that fiery ring. The intense feeling of need was tormenting. The urge to grab him by the collar, curling into his chest was irresistible.
"Goodnight, Frankie."
Still in a state of shock, I remain tight lipped and watch as he slips from view, clicking the door quietly shut behind him. I let out a breath I didn't realising I had been holding, feeling the sudden exhaustion jolt into me at full force. The bathroom was three times the size of mines, and the Jacuzzi bath brought a sense of happiness to my broken soul.
Soaking in the bath until my skin was wrinkled like a prune, I pull on my dad's biker jumper and a pair of cotton shorts as my stomach curls with hunger. Having a mental debate, I tiptoe back down the long and dark hallway, and back down the stairs.
"Shit." I hear Jason's familiar gravely voice hiss. Peaking around the open archway, I find him hover over the sink with hand held under the rush of cold water. He had also stripped from his formal attire and into something much more comfortable.
Why was grey sweatpants enough to raise a heart rate to a abnormal level?
"Are you okay?"
He flinches at my quiet voice echoing through the large and spacious kitchen, immediately spinning on his heels. He releases his held breath, reaching for the kitchen towel to his left. "God you scared me. I'm fine, just a small burn. Nothing like your one."
I glance at the fading scar decorating my wrist and giggle inwardly. Who knew a curling iron was so dangerous? I watch as he slices through two crunchy sandwiches, setting the plate on the counter and pushing it towards me.
"Grilled cheese sandwiches." He blushes. "Sorry it's not much - I need to go to the store."
My cheeks flame furiously as I pull myself atop of the stool at the breakfast bar. "Thank you. I'm sorry I ruined our McDonalds."
He chuckles, wiping his mouth as he takes a bite. "We'll make up for it."
We sit quietly, not a sound being made apart from our hungry crunching on the toasted bread. I could feel his eyes upon me, and could feel my breathing quicken when my eyes rest upon his. His blazing eyes were still warm with emotion but he still give nothing away.
"How are you?" He asks. "Like, really. How are you?"
I shrug my shoulders, brushing the crumbs from the tips of my fingers. "I'm not really sure."
"They'll catch whoever done it, Frankie." He assures me, his palms spread across the counter as he leans forward. The bulge around his upper arms made his navy blue t-shirt stretch and almost made my jaw fall. I shake my head, clearing my throat and smiling forcefully. "I promise. I have the best team on the case. They'll get them."
I sigh, tucking my balled up fists beneath my chin. "It was a targeted crime, Jason. Targeted, meaning someone had all intentions of destroying my belongings and making me feel scared and vulnerable. Someone knew I wasn't going to be home tonight. They knew my apartment was empty which means they've been watching me. They've been watching me."
His jaw clenches so hard his teeth grind together but he remains silent and lost in thought.
"I just don't know who could do such a thing."
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A limbo chapter for upcoming dramaaaaaaaaa.
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