Grey Waters

26: Greyson

I swear to god I'll kill the fucker that did this. Broke into her apartment, made her cry, and let her cat—that's kind of a fucking bitch—out.

When the doors open on her floor, I rush out and run down the hallway to her door that's wide open, and clearly damaged. She's not in the hall or the doorway and my mind goes to the worst case scenario.

"Kennedy?" I run into the apartment ignoring the mess around me and look for a head of sold blonde curls.

I can't even think about some sick fucking bastard going through all of her stuff without feeling rage like I've never felt. All the drawers are open and all her books that were probably sitting around in piles are ripped apart and thrown around.

"Greyson?" I whirl around at the sound of Kennedy's broken voice and if I thought I couldn't be angrier, the sight of her, tears running down her cheeks and eyes swollen, proves me wrong.

I don't even try to squash down the urge to protect her, instead I close the gap between her and pull her into my arms, breathing in her citrusy sweet smell. The second her head hits my chest a shudder goes through her, and she chokes on a sob.

"Why would someone do this?" She says between hiccups.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

"I can't find Coco." Her voice breaks on the past word, and my heart does a little too.

"I know, we'll find him."

I try to pull her away from me, but her grip on the back of my shirt tightens, and I can't seem to make myself let go of her either. My chest is so tight as I listen to her crying in my arms that I'm concerned I may be having a heart attack. I tighten my arms around her shoulder and waist and rub my hands in circles, not really knowing how to comfort her.

"Sweetheart, I need you to pack some clothes, okay?" She burrows her head into my neck and I blink away the moisture that's been building in my eyes. "Pack enough for a few days and anything you don't want left here. Does Coco have a crate?" I feel her nod against my neck and ignore how her skin feels on mine.

"What if we can't find him?" She whispers it, like if she says to quiet enough it won't happen and my heart hurts a little more.

"We will. Now can you go pack for me? I'm gonna make a few calls and then I'll take you done to the truck and look for Coco, sound good?"

She nods again, and raises her head from my neck. I watch her as she look around her apartment, fresh tears well in her eyes and her bottom lip quivers.

"Why did this have to happen? And I just hung that mirror!" She breaks done in sobs, falling against the cushionless sofa and I don't know what to do. How do I make her stop crying? I hate seeing her like this.

Instinct takes over and I kneel in front of her, reaching my hands up to cup her beautiful face.

"I know, baby, I know. It's okay, we'll find Coco and we'll find who did this. You hear me? We'll find em." I'll find them.

She laughs humourlessly and shakes her head, blonde hair falling in her face. "How are we going to find them? We won't. Police don't do anything about this stuff. And my apartments ruined now. I'm going to have to move, I can't stay here know-knowing someone's been in here." Silent tears run down her cheeks and my thumbs move of their own accord, wiping them away.

"Then we'll find you a new apartment." Until then, she's not leaving my sight. All the weird shit that's happened to her since I met her runs through my head, and I feel some of my earlier panic resurface. What if someone is following her? What if she's being targeted and it's not all chalked up to coincidence?