23

21.9K 925 110
                                    

LEILA

I can't catch a fucking break, can I?

I stand by the entrance of my apartment, floored. The lights have been turned on and I can see everything. I just don't recognize much anymore. The cushions of the couch are tossed on the floor, my television is missing, and even my lamp—my fucking table lamp is gone.

I've been violated. Robbed.

I shouldn't be surprised. This neighborhood isn't the safest, and it has been betting hit every other week. It was only a matter of time before it was my turn.

I must have left the door open when I tossed Grace around and got arrested, and my neighbors either didn't care or didn't want to get involved. So they didn't close my door or call the cops on the thieves. The fact of the matter is that I'm screwed, and exhausted.

This was supposed to be a date night, but Hector made sure to scare Joseph off. That door has closed. The wrong door has closed tonight. I'm supposed to be laughing and flirting at my date right now. Forgetting my problems.

I walk deeper into the apartment, not recognizing my bedroom which has been tossed. The few luxury belongings I owned, like a set of golden hoop earrings, have been snatched.

I kick my shoes off, walking blindly past Hector to sit on the edge of my bed. I cover my face with my palms and sigh. I won't cry. Can't cry with my ex-boss here.

Fuck Grace. For a moment, I felt bad that she was left behind in the cell, but she brought this onto us by crossing a solid boundary coming to my doorstep.

"Are you alright?" Comes Hector's low voice.

I'm not. I wish I had a helmet I could put on and escape into The Machine.

"Yes," I sigh. "Thank you. I'll call the police. You should get going. It's late."

He shakes his head, surprising me. "I can't possibly leave you alone now."

"I—I'll be fine. The thieves are gone." Although I doubt I'll get any sleep these upcoming days, fearing they'll pop out of my closet.

"You need to stay at my home for a couple of days."

"What!" I shout. "Are you crazy? Move in with you? I can barely stand in a room with you after all the shit we've gone through."

He crosses his arms over his giant chest, unaffected by my insult. If anything, more determination burns in his eyes.

"I need to protect you, Leila," he says so certainly. Like it's scripture. An eleventh commandment he must honor.

I stand up. "You're not a police officer. Newsflash, the only police officer I was romantically involved with was pushed out of my life by you."

He scoffs. "That little man was not going to do much for you."

"You guys are the same height!"

"He didn't fight for you. Just walked away like an imbecile."

I throw my hands up. "Enough. Point is, we're not moving into the same space."

"Well then I guess I'm staying here, but you'll need to let me buy a bigger couch. I don't think I can lay on the one you currently have."

I rub my temples. A headache is pulsing. "No. You will continue with your life, and I will do the same with mine."

My voice is calm, although what I want to do is scream.

He's crazy for proposing this. And I'm crazier for feeling butterflies in my tummy at the thought of it.

He reaches for a hand and caresses the back of my palm with a thumb. "You won't be at peace here, and neither will I knowing the thieves may be lurking around, searching for more to steal."

Caught by the Boss ✔️Where stories live. Discover now