Taming Pierce

28

☆
R E E C E
28 | a home without her

My hands tremble when I graze my palm over the wood of the door which has been torn off its hinges. It hangs from one corner, the wood creaking as the edge brushes the floor at the merest touch. I press on it, letting the dread of whatever happened wash over me.

The lungs within me fight for air, my racing heartbeats echoing like hollows in my chest. My ears are blocked, my eyes burning, and searching inside.

There is no sign of Tatia.

I try to tell myself that this was just a break-in attempt and that she is okay. However, she won't pick up my calls. There is no way for me to confirm what happened unless she comes back or someone tells me that she is okay.

She has to be okay.

"We couldn't see anything," my head security, Jimmy, informs in a monotonous voice behind me. "The security cameras were turned off by a glitch. We thought it was a bug in the system."

His words don't have meaning to me anymore. Everything feels empty, sounds empty.

"Where was the security?" I ask, forcing the question through a clogged throat.

"They were doing their duty. No one suspicious entered. The last one to come here was Mr. Hanson with a few of your clients."

A frown creases on my forehead. I turn to the sharp-looking man who has his hands behind him, looking straight at me. His words sound sincere but my mental state is in such a fragile situation that I can't stop doubting.

"What clients?"

"Five men were accompanying him."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I press into the broken door, feeling the dull throb in the back of my head.

"Go check whatever you can scramble from the footage," I instruct Paul, realizing how bereft I sound as if my heart already knows that nothing can be done now. "See if anything was caught. I want them sent to me."

"Yes, sir."

Once the echo of Paul's retreating steps greets my ears, I let my hands fall, taking slow steps toward the hallway. I stomp like a broken shell of a man, the phone in my hand a heavy weight that waits for her call desperately.

Where are you?

Why won't you call me back?

My foot trips over the vase that has crashed on the floor somehow. Nothing else appears moved but there is the salient trail of dirt, surely from shoes that entered without permission. They track a path to the sitting room and further. I hold onto the wall, finding my balance to stop a massive fall.

"Fuck!" I curse out, the back of my eyes stinging with the need to cry.

"Reece...calm down."

I blink up, my gaze finding Hanson who stands in the center of the sitting room with Shiver in his arms. He is dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, still wearing his shoes which makes me scrunch my nose in disgust. The dirt track must be from his shoes then.

The moment the puppy sees me, he springs out of Hanson's arms, running at me briskly. His paws touch my shoes as he barks in chaotic sounds that leave him in a series of haphazard noises.

"You..." I step toward Hanson, reminded of the security's words. "What are you doing here? Where's Tatia? Was she with you? Tell me she's safe. Come on, speak! Where is she?"

Hanson's face is fallen, an unspeakable graveness in his eyes keeping it lowered. His hands slide into his pockets, fisting themselves.

"She's gone," he says.