Buttercup [H.S]

Chapter Twenty Seven

*** This is part one of a double update! ***

Harry calls the police and waits for them to show up before he allows me to leave the cab of the van.

The officers, two middle aged men in high vis jackets, do a search of the house before they come back and allow us in. They say it's clear, but by the looks on their faces I already know I'm not going to like what I find.

Harry walks in front of me as we pass my ruined front door, that looks as though it's been kicked in judging by the scuff marks and cracks around the bottom half.

Rain waiter had pooled into the hallway, and the first thing I see is red.

"Riley, maybe you shouldn't see this," Harry mutters but it's too late.

I suck in a deep breath at the sight before me.

Slut.

Whore.

Liar.

My once pink hallway is ravaged with blood red spray paint, the words throbbing like an open sore in my head as I look at the mess that's been made of my home.

I'm brought back to school, when similar words were written about me on bathroom walls.

Harry's brows are etched together with worry as he watches me taking it in. He follows me into the living room, where I have to clamp a hand over my mouth.

Everything has been turned upside down. My coffee table is broken to pieces, my tv on the ground with a large crack on the screen. Foam covered everything from where a knife - a knife that's still on the ground - has been taken to my little velvet sofa.

Every drawer, every cupboard has been emptied and thrown around. My records, all scattered and snapped to pieces.

The officers walk behind us, speaking quietly into their walkie-talkies.

My kitchen has been entirely destroyed. All of my jars of ingredients shattered and discarded everywhere. My food mixer is smashed, the arm having been snapped off altogether.

"Jesus Christ," Harry whispers sadly.

I just stare at it all in stunned silence.

"Do you know who may have done this?" One of the officers asks from behind us. I exchange a glance with Harry before looking to the officer and nodding.

It takes hours, giving the police statements about Kyle, informing them that I already have a restraining order against him. That he's likely done this in retaliation, or out of jealousy.

Another team turn up to take pictures. Harry and I are standing in my garden, I'm bundled up in his coat that I don't remember him putting around me, when one of the officers approaches us.

"We suggest you stay elsewhere until we've got Mr Hughes in custody. Do you have anyone you can stay with?" He asks. "Any friends, any family?"

My initial response is to shake my head, but Harry speaks up beside me.

"She can stay with me."

I gawp up at him, but he's looking at the officer, his jaw tense.

"No. No, Harry I'll stay with Lucy."

"She's at the exhibition," he shakes his head, casting his eye in my direction briefly. He clears his throat and looks to the police officer again. "How long do you think it'll take?"

The officer sighs. "Hopefully it'll only be for a night or two. He's left his fingerprints everywhere, so I'm imagining he's not smart enough to evade us for long."