All Cried Out (All Falls Down Book 2)

by Ayden K. Morgen

  My phone cuts off and then almost immediately begins ringing again.

  "Shit," I mumble, unwinding myself from around Savannah and jackknifing up and out of the bed. Weaving my way across the room, I barely manage to avoid colliding with that damn trunk again.

  "Watch your eyes, baby." I give her time to throw her arm over her face before I turn on the light. I have to blink against the haze, trying to clear my field of vision, before making my way out into the hallway and then on into the living room. My phone is beside Savannah's on the coffee table, still ringing. Hers vibrates its way across the tabletop.

  "What in the hell is going on?" I mutter to myself, hitting the light switch and grabbing my phone. My stomach sinks when I see Lewis's name flashing across the screen. "Yeah?" I say, putting the phone to my ear. I snag Savannah's from the table just as it stops ringing.

  "How fast can you make it to your apartment?" Lewis asks, not wasting time with greetings or bullshit small talk.

  "What happened?" I'm not sure I want to know. It's two in the morning, and he isn't blowing up my phone for the hell of it. Savannah's isn't ringing for shits and giggles, either. As if on cue, hers starts to vibrate again.

  "Shit, hold on." I swap phones, putting hers to my ear. "Savannah Martin's phone."

  "This is Beverley with All Secure Ameri-"

  "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I groan, cutting her off before she can finish her spiel. It's not one I need to hear anyway. Toby McKee has struck again.

  Defeat runs like a current through me.

  "Ah, excuse me, sir?" the security company representative says, taken off guard by my outburst.

  "Shit, sorry." I blow out a frustrated breath, trying to rally the energy to deal with this. It's not her fault she's the one stuck calling me, but I'm exhausted all the way into my bones. Not that it really matters. McKee certainly doesn't give a shit if I'm tired. "Has our alarm gone off?"

  "Yes, sir. We've been trying to reach you for the last hour. Law enforcement is already on scene. It appears there's been a break-in," Beverly says, her voice sympathetic.

  "I'll be there shortly." I toss Savannah's phone onto the couch and put mine back to my ear. "How bad is it?" I ask Lewis, striding toward the bedroom to get dressed.

  Savannah sits up in the bed, eyeing me warily. I hold up a finger to her, indicating I need a minute before I tell her what's going on. I want the facts before I tell her anything. I don't want to scare her, and this is guaranteed to do exactly that. The son of a bitch was in our apartment. God only knows what the hell he did to it.

  "I don't know if anything is missing, but it's not pretty," Lewis says. "He trashed your place. How fast can you get here?"

  "Son of a bitch." I close my eyes, taking deep breaths so I don't put my fist through the wall. I'm so fucking sick of McKee. Little by little, he's invading every aspect of Savannah's life, taking everything that brings her comfort … the car that granted her freedom, the home that provided safety and security. Everything that's important to her, not because of what it is, but because of what it represents. One by one, he's stripping them from her, leaving her vulnerable and cornered all over again. He knows exactly how to hurt her the most without putting a hand on her.

  "Please tell me you guys caught him this time."

  "Afraid not. He was gone before our guys got here."

  A string of expletives pour from my lips.

  "Jared? What's going on?" Savannah asks me, her voice timid, anxious.

  "I'll be there in fifteen minutes," I tell Lewis, tossing my phone and turning to my girl. Her eyes are wide and full of worry. She grips the blankets tightly in her hands, staring at me. I settle onto the bed beside her, holding my arms out for her. It takes her all of two seconds to scramble onto my lap, straddling me.

  "What's wrong?" she asks again, running her hands through my hair.

  "McKee broke into our apartment, beautiful girl," I murmur to her.

  My arms tighten around her waist when she blanches, her face paling visibly. She stares at me, tears shining in her eyes, and I find myself hating McKee all over again. He's not going to be satisfied until he's destroyed her life as thoroughly as I razed his to the ground. Until this moment, I've never regretted what I did to him. I'm not even sure I regret it now, but I can't help but feel like this is my fault in a way. Had I left him alone, would he be here now, tormenting my girl? Or would he still be in Italy, with thousands of miles and an ocean between him and Savannah?

  I set the dominoes in motion, and this is the result. He's getting exactly what he wanted. I can see the terror in Savannah's eyes. Feel her heartache as she shakes on my lap, her mind fighting to accept the fact that the security she found in our apartment is long gone. Because of him. Because, once again, he's wriggled his way into her life, tearing it carelessly apart. But she's not alone this time. She's not locked in that apartment in Italy, cowering from the son of a bitch. And he doesn't get to take her back there now.

  "Hey," I whisper, cupping her face between my hands so she meets my gaze. "He doesn't win this time, baby. You're safe and you're mine, and no matter what he does, he won't take that away from us."

  "Okay," she mumbles, her voice small, wooden.

  I'm not sure if she believes me or if she's agreeing just to make me happy. As much as I want to stay and talk her through this, I can't. Once again, I have to run off, leaving her alone. This is not how I imagined things going after I handed Lexi off to Evans. I was supposed to be here with my girl, not running all over San Francisco trying to find her bastard of an ex. I press my lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before I lift us both to our feet. "I'm going to have Evans meet us outside. I don't want you over here alone."

  Savannah stands there for a moment before making her way to the dresser to put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I follow suit, jerking on a pair of jeans and a button down before sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of shoes. When I'm done, Savannah's just standing there, lost in thought.

  "I'm going to call Drake while you finish getting ready, beautiful girl," I murmur.

  "Okay."

  I step out into the hallway with my cell, giving her a few minutes to herself. As much as I don't want to let her out of my sight, I don't want to crowd her either. She keeps telling me she can deal, and I'm trying to let her, but fucking hell. I hate it. I hate everything about this.

  "Yeah?" Evans picks up on the second ring, sounding like he's wide awake.

  "Can you meet me outside in five?"

  "Yeah, what's up?" He's instantly on alert, all business.

  "McKee broke into our apartment. I need to head over there, and I don't want Savannah over here alone until I get back."

  Drake curses, and then his voice grows muffled like he's talking to someone else. I hear Lexi gasp before he comes back on the line. At least they seem to have made up.

  "I'll meet her outside," he says.

  "Thanks, man." I slide my phone back into my pocket and close my eyes, leaning back against the wall. All I want to do is crawl back into the bed with my girl and sleep for the next two weeks. I swear to God, as soon as this shit is over and McKee is no longer a problem, I'm taking her away. Somewhere warm, where it's just the two of us.

  "I'm ready," she says in a monotone.

  I crack my eyes open to see her standing in front of me. She looks as exhausted as I feel, her eyes shadowed and sad. I reach out and tug her toward me, wrapping my arms around her. She sighs quietly, burrowing into my chest.

  "I love you," I murmur, my lips against her forehead.

  "I love you, too." She lets me hold her for a long moment before slowly pulling back. "We should go."

  She's right, we should, but damn, I don't want to deal with this right now.

  When I arrive at our complex, police cruisers are parked all over the place, red and blue lights cutting through the darkness in random intervals. Neighbors stand on their balconies in pajamas, gawking at the activity. I see a ne
ws van on the far side of the lot, and have no clue if any others followed me here. I don't even want to know.

  I park haphazardly and climb from the Jaguar. Lewis meets me at the bottom of the stairs leading to the apartment. He looks like he's had less sleep than I have. Dark circles rim his gray eyes. His hair is a mess, and his normally pristine button-down is wrinkled. He's subdued, somber. It instantly gets my hackles up.

  "Just tell me," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.

  "He came in through a window," Lewis says after a moment. "There's shit everywhere." He sighs and then gives me a sharp look. "If you'll stay out of the way for our crime scene guys, I'll take you up, but I will kick your ass back out if I have to."

  I shoot him a dirty look. "Have I gotten in the way yet?"

  He just looks at me blandly for a moment and then turns and starts up the stairs. I follow behind him, pissed because of his comment and curious about what brought it on. He's been decent thus far. For him to be giving out warnings, it has to be bad. I'm not sure I want to see the damage.

  "What the fuck is he doing here?" the cop with the attitude, Whitfield, demands when we make it to the top of the stairs. He's got his feet planted, glaring over Lewis's shoulder at me.

  "Don't start," I warn him, holding up a hand. Now is not the time to push me. I will break his jaw if he doesn't knock off the bullshit. I'm pissed. I'm tired. And my girl is with Evans and Lexi, probably crying.

  "Whitfield, move out of the fucking way," Lewis barks, not screwing around.

  Whitfield's gaze moves from me to Lewis and then back again. His scowl deepens, but he moves out of the way, holding his hands up as if to surrender.

  Lewis brushes past him, and I do the same.

  "Fucking useless Fed," Whitfield grunts under his breath.

  "Anyone ever tell you to shut the fuck up?" I shoot right back at him, swinging around to face him. My hands clench into fists, and I have to fight not to take a swing. I don't know what his problem is, but this is twice, and I'm sick of it.

  "You wanna try it?" he asks, getting right up in my face.

  "Whitfield," Lewis snaps, grabbing my arm before I can take a swing at the bastard. "Not the time, man. Corbit, cool it unless you want this shit on the news in the morning."

  Shit.

  I freeze instantly, breathing hard as adrenaline fires through me.

  Whitfield glares at me for a long moment and then turns around and stomps off without another word. The other patrol officers standing around watch him go, not saying anything.

  "What is his problem?" I ask Lewis, shaking my head.

  Lewis eyes me for a moment and then releases my arm. "His cousin worked for Talbot International. He was killed in Africa."

  "You're kidding me," I groan, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. Maybe his cousin's death isn't directly my fault, but Whitfield blames me for it. And I can't fault him for that, not when I blame me, too. Half of the Talbot employees who died in Africa did so after I took the case. Had I been able to draw Paulson out earlier, they might still be alive. "Fuck. No wonder he hates me."

  Lewis's silence is deafening. Not once in the last few days has he said anything about the Talbot case. He hasn't asked any questions or demanded any answers. He's kept his cards close to his chest. Glancing around at the officers spread out across the complex, I can't help but wonder how many of them feel the same as Whitfield does: that I'm the reason eleven people died in Africa.

  "Let's get this over with," Lewis says, recalling my attention.

  I clear my throat and nod for him to go ahead. The officers standing at the front door to the apartment move out of the way without a word, allowing us in. Everyone inside falls quiet when Lewis and I step through the door. I freeze as soon as I'm over the threshold, my eyes drawn to the disaster within.

  It's not the same place Savannah and I left two days ago. It looks as if a tornado struck the apartment. Furniture is overturned and broken, scattered all over the place. Glass is shattered across the floor, photographs and art tossed carelessly. McKee's hatred has been spewed across the walls, fresh red paint still dripping from the once pristine white.

  The words hastily scrawled there make me sick to my stomach.

  I'd rather see you dead than with another man, little girl.

  I take two quick breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. The smell of the paint mixes with the metallic taste of blood where I've bitten my tongue, and sends bile scratching up my throat. Slamming my eyes closed, I fight for control, trying desperately not to lose my shit in a room full of cops all focused on me.

  "It's from a Beatles song," Lewis murmurs from my right. "Run For Your Life. He's changed the lyrics up a little, made the threat more immediate."

  "I know the song," I rasp, grateful that he's talking, giving me something to concentrate on. The topic sucks, but it's better than silence and the shit running through my head right now. Christ, I want to scream just to release the pressure building in my chest. I feel like someone's set an anvil on my chest and tossed me into the Bay.

  "Our first officer arrived on scene twenty-four minutes after the alarm call came in."

  "Twenty-four minutes?" I crack my eyes open, turning to glare at Lewis. "Why the hell did it take twenty-four minutes to get someone here?"

  "We were a little tied up with other shit when the call came in," he says, folding his arms over his chest. "There was a structure fire half a mile from here, and an aggravated robbery six blocks from there."

  "Jesus Christ," I mutter, shaking my head. "McKee?"

  Lewis nods. "We think he started the fire, and then robbed the lady to keep us occupied elsewhere in the district, giving himself time to do his thing here. Neighbors say they saw him running across the back of the parking lot seven minutes before we got on scene."

  "He did this in seventeen minutes?" I look around the apartment again, taking it all in. It looks like a bomb exploded. Everything is smashed or shattered, totally ruined. The few items that might have been salvaged are covered in paint. It's a mess.

  "Yeah." Lewis falls quiet, following my gaze around the room. "One of your neighbors chased him half a block before he took off in his rental. By the time we got a unit there, he was long gone."

  I shake my head, not sure what to say to that. He planned this out, made damn sure San Francisco was occupied so he'd have time to get away. I'm so pissed I have to step out of the apartment. Slamming my hands down on the railing, I drag fresh air into my lungs. Blood rushes through my veins in a dull roar. The wind is chilly coming in off the Bay, but I'm burning up.

  Another news crew has joined the first on the far side of the parking lot. More neighbors gather along the balconies, watching the circus play out all over the parking lot and complex. Someone has strung crime scene tape across this side of the lot, blocking it off. It's a nightmare. A living, breathing nightmare. And the son of a bitch who orchestrated it is still out there, threatening to kill my girl.

  Seven minutes and we could have had the bastard.

  "We will find him," Lewis says as if reading my mind.

  I roll my eyes in his direction, my heart in a vise. I can't ask him if we'll stop McKee before he comes for Savannah again. If I say the words, I'm going to lose my mind. I pray instead.

  Please God, don't let this motherfucker take her from me.

  "How bad is it?" Evans asks an hour later as I'm pacing back and forth right outside Lewis's office like a caged animal. I'm dying to get out of here and do something, anything but stare at the shitty off-white walls while he makes another phone call.

  "Real fucking bad," I mutter into the phone, stopping long enough to shake my head. "Don't let her out of your sight, Evans. Keep her and the girls in the house with the doors locked and the alarm on. No one comes in or out. No one even steps foot on the property until I get home." There's no way I can let her go to her classes now. Not after this.

  "Lexi already let Savannah know we're staying home with h
er and the girls until this blows over. I got them, man," he assures me. "They're safe here."

  I want to argue with him, tell him he didn't see the words scrawled across our walls in blood red paint, but I don't. I'm not calm enough to repeat those words now. And I don't know if Savannah is listening. She doesn't need to hear what McKee left behind this time, and she definitely doesn't need to see it.

  "Ask Lexi to get a cleaning crew on stand-by. As soon as San Francisco is done with the apartment, I want them in there. Tell her that they're authorized to do whatever they have to do to get it cleaned up, but I want it done immediately."

  "Got it," Evans says. "Anything else?"

  "Yeah." I stop, take a breath, and ask the question I've been afraid to ask. "How's she doing?"

  "Better than you," Evans murmurs. "She's asleep on the couch right now. I was going to carry her to her old room, but Lexi told me to leave her. She and Katrina are watching over her."

  I exhale, relieved that she's not sitting up, agonizing over this. Knowing she's sleeping makes being away from her right now easier, and God only knows when I'll get the opportunity to head back to the mansion to check on her. The list of shit Lewis and I need to do today grows by the minute. Finding McKee is at the very top. I want him in handcuffs or a body bag so badly it's almost frightening.

  "How are Lex and Kit holding up?" I ask, knowing this is hell on them, too. How much is one family supposed to endure before someone breaks?

  "They're good, man. We're all good."

  I think he's trying to ease my mind, but it doesn't help. Not really. I rake a hand through my hair, tugging on the strands. The sharp sting left behind gives me something else to focus on, something tangible.

  Lewis steps out of his office, holding his hand over the phone at his ear. "McKee was spotted half an hour ago in Corte Madera."

  Fucking finally! Excitement fires through me, adrenaline taking over for the second time in a matter of hours. "Tell Savannah that I'll be there as soon as I can," I tell Evans before shoving my phone into my pocket and striding toward Lewis.