Heart Broken (Game of Hearts Series Book 1)

by Sarah Alabaster

  Gaping wide-eyed in a silent scream, I was unsure if the person who had done this was still in the apartment, so I pushed my way past Bethany, locking the door behind her.

  “Someone was in my apartment!” I exclaimed without giving Bethany a chance to move.

  She took both my arms into hers to look into my eyes with concern.

  “Did you see anyone? Hear anything?”

  “What?” Confused and still tired, Bethany just kept trying to blink herself awake. “No, I didn’t hear a thing. I’ve been asleep most of the day. This cold has knocked me on my ass. I just got up when I heard you were knocking on the door.”

  “You’re kidding me! You didn’t hear anything? Nothing at all?”

  Disbelief turned into anger as I realized that the person who had done this might just get away with it. Without a witness or anyone that could tell security about strange people being around, the intruder would most likely get away scot-free.

  “You know I don’t hear a thing when I’m asleep, and this cold has clogged my ears so much I can barely hear most of the time.” Making her way into the kitchen, she grabbed at a Kleenex along the way and blew her nose so hard she popped her ears. “That’s better. Now, what’s going on Clara? You’re really scaring me.”

  “You should be scared. We both should be! Someone just trashed my place. Everything I own is either broken or shredded to smithereens.”

  “How? How could that happen here? This place is as secure as Fort Knox. No one can get in without the key, codes, or clearance.”

  Shaking her head, Bethany started the coffee pot, needing the nectar that only a strong cup of coffee could provide.

  “We need to pack our bags.”

  “Whoa! Wait a second. My place wasn’t trashed, so why do I have to pack a bag? I’m not going anywhere right now in this condition.”

  Sneezing and blowing her nose, she stumbled to the trash can to toss her used tissues, grabbing the box as she made her way back to finish the discussion and get her coffee.

  “But we…”

  What did we need to do, exactly? She was right. Her place hadn’t been tossed and destroyed. Only my place had been, and she was really in no condition to go anywhere at the moment.

  “You’re right,” I said as I began to clean up the dirty dishes in the sink. This was something Bethany was used to since I did it all the time when I was stressed or upset.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Coughing, she watched as I poured the coffee into a mug, adding just enough sugar and cream to make it milky, just the way she liked it.

  “I’d offer to put you up here, but I don’t want you to catch the plague I have.”

  Laughing despite my distress, I felt it was probably best that I figure this one out on my own.

  “Do you need me to come by and help you get your apartment back together?”

  “No, you rest. Get through the plague, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

  I walked toward the door, making my way around the used tissues that lined the floors. I left the apartment promising to keep her updated on the situation.

  Hearing the buzzer for the entrance, I then opened the door to my trashed apartment and clicked the intercom.

  “Yes?”

  “Hey, it’s me. Let me up, will you?”

  Pressing the button, I couldn’t place the voice I’d just heard, but I figured that someone trying to hurt or kill me wouldn’t ask to be buzzed into the apartment to do it, so I felt safe enough.

  “Jesus, Clara, what the hell happened? Are you okay?!”

  I stood frozen as Roger took me by the arms, shaking me furiously to get my attention.

  “Clara, what the hell?” he said, looking around the room

  “Roger?”

  “Yes! What happened in here? Are you okay?”

  The tears streamed down my cheeks as I faced him, blinking rapidly trying to regain some semblance of control.

  “We need to call the police.”

  Removing the cell phone from his pocket, he quickly contacted campus security, and then the police. Placing the phone back into his pocket, he turned to me.

  “Who did this?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Then Paul burst into the room.

  “Clara! God, are you okay?”

  “Oh, Paul!”

  Falling into his arms, I allowed myself to lose control, giving into the emotions and tears that threatened to take hold of me.

  Holding me back slightly so he could look me over, he suddenly noticed the knife positioned in the cabinet door.

  “What the fuck is that doing there?”

  “I have no idea,” I said with the smallest voice possible, yet he still heard me. Roger was far enough away that he was unable to catch what I’d said, so I continued talking low to Paul. “You think he knows about our side project, whoever he is, and this is some kind of threat?”

  “Could be.”

  “What could be?” Roger chimed in, hearing only a part of the conversation and deciding he needed to know what the hell was going on.

  “A break-in. I think it’s a break-in,” I quickly interjected, hoping he’d believe me and not ask anything more.

  “You’re lying. Why are you lying?”

  “Leave it, Roger. It’s fine.”

  “What’s going on? Tell me. I want to know.”

  Silently communicating with Paul, I finally nodded to him, and he turned to leave the room to meet with the police.

  “Someone has been following me for months now. At first I thought it was you because of the break up, but then we got back to being friends in a way, and the feeling of being watched never left.” I wanted to reassure him that I no longer thought the person stalking me was him, but as screwed up as all this was, I had no idea what to believe anymore. “I thought with the move that the building would be secure enough, but apparently I was wrong. Dead wrong.”

  “Who’s following you? How’d they get in here? How’d they get past the security door?”

  Roger ignored the accusation and apparently didn’t think any further than the threat against me.

  “All good questions, and I have no idea.”

  Tears threatening to fall again, I just looked around the tossed room, taking in all the damage to my possessions.

  “You’re not staying here,” Paul said, coming back into the room.

  “Where would I stay?”

  “With me, of course!” both men stated matter-of-factly.

  “Or me!” Bethany chimed in, coming in from the hallway, unable to make it back to bed in her condition. With her was her boyfriend Brian, who was clearly surprised by the carnage that lay before him.

  “Let’s talk with the police. They’re on their way up. Then we’ll figure out where you’re going to stay. For now, we need to let the cops do their job before we can straighten up the mess and find out what the hell is going on.”

  “I can’t just move again. Student housing barely let me move the last time. I doubt they’d be up for me moving again.”

  “I don’t give a shit! Your safety is more important. Let someone else take this place.”

  “Clara, I have to agree with Roger on this one. Your safety is much more important than student housing issues. After all, someone broke into this place, tossing everything. That doesn’t take a few minutes, you know. They were here for a while doing all this. What if you walked in on them, or him, or whoever this is? God only knows what could have happened to you.”

  Pulling me into his arms, Roger held me so tight I thought he would crush my ribs.

  “Ow.”

  “Sorry, baby, I’m just freaking out.”

  “I know, me too.”

  Once he loosened up a bit, the security of his embrace was a welcome comfort. Both Paul and Brian exchanged a look but didn’t say anything as I turned toward Bethany, hearing the downstairs buzzer go off again.

  “I’ll get it,” Paul said as he eyed Roger.


  “Campus security.”

  “Come up, door’s open.”

  As the police and campus security made their way through the apartment, they found a window opened to the fire escape as a possible point of entrance for the perpetrator. Then the officer stepped up to me and gives me a piece of paper.

  “Once a report is issued and statements are taken, the student housing director will also come by to survey the damage. They’ll also get the documentation information from the police report.”

  “I know you didn’t leave a window open or unlocked. No way. Not after the feelings you’ve been getting of someone watching you. There’s just no way.”

  Paul was adamant that I wouldn’t do something like that, telling both the cops and campus security.

  So, how had this person gotten in then?

  “Stay with me, Clara,” Roger whispered into my ear.

  “I can’t,” I whispered back.

  “Clara, please.”

  I was determined to stick around the apartment, even though I was scared to death at the thought.

  “Why? Why won’t you leave?” Roger pleaded with me. “It’s not safe.”

  “I have to clean this place up. After that, I’ll take the student housing director’s advice and get the security system installed. That should be enough.”

  Paul just kept his mouth shut, brushing away shards of glass into the shovel.

  “Are you nuts? First, you feel someone watching you. Now someone breaks in! They got past the security door of the building and making it look like they came in through the fire escape.”

  He had a point, I knew that, but still, anywhere I went, this person would probably find me. Better to stay in a place where no one else I cared about could get hurt, too.

  “Maybe I did leave the window open? I just can’t be sure.”

  “Clara, I’m sure you didn’t. No way. Not with how scared you’ve been lately.”

  Paul seemed to be demanding that I not second-guess myself.

  Bethany just shook her head.

  “You are all crazy. Tell the cops you want some added protection. It’s not safe. Even they said the butcher’s knife could be a threat.”

  “They won’t do anything, Bethany. We don’t have much proof other than Clara’s feeling of someone watching her,” Paul concluded as he finished tossing the garbage into the trash bin.

  “Then someone broke in. Yeah, I see no connection there. Sure. Tell the cops!”

  Bethany stomped off, pissed, leaving to go back to her apartment with Brain at her heels.

  “Maybe she’s right. Maybe we should say something to the police about the feeling of someone watching me. Now there’s a knife in the cabinet door. Do you think it’s a threat, Paul?”

  He just looked at me, thinking over all the events.

  “Okay, I’ll come with you. I don’t want you to do anything alone until we know what’s going on.”

  I could feel both Roger and Paul watching me as I tried to decide what to do next, and I knew the situation could quickly get out of hand, faster than any of us could possibly anticipate.

  Chapter Nine

  As expected, the police weren’t able to do much with the information they provided to the detectives, but they did note everything in the file, along with the break-in. Paul was adamant they report everything we knew, and I felt he had a point.

  “You really think they’ll look into it?”

  We were headed toward Paul’s car after we’d left the precinct four hours later.

  “Probably not, but at least it’s on file.”

  He opened the door for me before heading around the driver’s side.

  “If something else happens, then they have records to assist in piecing everything together.”

  Clearly shaken, he had a difficult time getting all the words out.

  “I’m sorry, Clara, I’m trying to be strong here, but I’m actually just as afraid as you are. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  He grabbed my hand, holding it tight as we headed back to his place.

  Tears threatened to fall again, but somehow, I held them back.

  “I’m more concerned that this person will start doing things to the people I love. You and Bethany are at risk, too, you know.”

  “I know, and I’m watching out for myself, but I’ve started feeling it, too.” He looked at me from out of his peripheral vision. “I just didn’t want to say anything and have you worry.”

  “Paul! You should have said something. You should especially have said something to the police! Christ, we were in there for four hours! Why didn’t you say anything to them?”

  “Let’s get back to my place, baby. I’ll add my experiences to the file later, when I’m certain.”

  “Do you think Bethany has had any of these feelings?”

  “I just don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “But we should definitely ask her. If she does have these feelings, then we’ll know he’s targeting all of us.” Shaking his head as we made our way out of the car back to his place, Paul took my hand, squeezing reassurance as best as he could. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. With or without the police, we’ll figure this out.”

  “I’m not playing detective, Paul. Whoever is after me may get you instead, and then what?”

  Just nodding, he let the subject drop. This was hard enough without having to think too far ahead. The fact that Clara might not be the only target nagged at him, making him question everything he thought he knew. Things were just getting out of hand, faster than they’d both anticipated. Deciding to make the call, he removed his cell phone and dialed the last number he’d called.

  “Hello again. How can we help you, Paul?” Detective Michaels asked.

  “I wasn’t sure I should say anything, but I would like to add to the statement I made earlier with Clara today.”

  “Okay, why don’t you come back down to the precinct, and we can go back into the room and discuss this all from the beginning?”

  “We can’t tonight. We’re both exhausted, but how about tomorrow, sometime after two? I have classes in the morning.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Is there anyone else we should have join us?”

  “We’re not sure, but my friend Bethany could also have had some experiences that she hasn’t told us about yet.”

  “How about you contact her and see if she’d like to join us, too?”

  I was taking great solace in knowing that I wasn’t the only one that had been experiencing these feelings of being watched, but at the same time, I felt dread as the people I cared about most were going through the exact same thing. I was relieved and scared to death knowing that those I cared about were in danger.

  After we disconnected with the detective and called it a night, Paul wouldn’t let me leave his sight, so we headed off to bed, worried sick someone was watching, yet knowing there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it but wait.

  ***

  Bethany ended up coming to the station and recounting the few times she also felt as though someone was watching her. Though the prolific way I was being stalked went beyond anything the two of them were experiencing, my heart still went out to them, and I worried that it was all my fault. This person was probably after them because of the simple fact that they were friends with me. There was nothing I could do about that, so I debated the idea of leaving behind everyone I knew to become a loner. But I had to admit this idea was ludicrous. I would much rather have been with people I knew than alone.

  Squashing that idea as insanity, and back in the present moment, I found Paul sitting across from me with a serious expression I just couldn’t place.

  When Bethany came out of the interview room with the detective, he dismissed us with his assurance that he’d look into the matter. At the same time, I knew he regarded it as being one mainly based on feelings that had no apparent bearing on the break-in—which took priority at the moment.

  As I parted c
ompany with Bethany, we confirmed our plans to meet for our usual Friday night girls night. I realized that I would probably prefer to be alone that night, reflecting on how I could get my life back on track. Sitting at the station, I was reeling thinking about what this person had taken from me.

  Resigned at my revelation, I followed Paul as we headed back to the car.

  “Ready to go home?”

  “You know, I’m thinking of fixing my place up.”

  “Great idea. I’ll stay over and help.”

  “Actually, I was thinking about being alone tonight.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  Throwing his hands against the steering wheel, unable to control his exasperation at my idea, he angrily turned to face me.

  Great, another person in my life with anger issues.

  “Oh, shit! Roger!”

  “What the fuck, Clara?”

  “What? No! I mean, we need to talk with Roger, too, and see if he’s had any issues of feeling as though someone is watching him.”

  “Why would Roger have a stalker, too? Are you screwing him as well?”

  Shocked, I slapped him hard across the face.

  “That’s it!” he shouted. “I’ve had it with all of this shit! Go fucking find Roger. I’m sure he can’t wait to protect you, since he still has feelings for you!”

  “I can’t believe you said that! Fuck you, Paul!”

  Taking deep breaths, we looked at each other in sadness.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Clara. I need a break. I’ve tried to be supportive. I’ve tried to take on the protective boyfriend role, but I just can’t deal with all this anymore. It’s too much.”

  “Fine! I don’t need you. Get the fuck away from me. I can take care of myself.”

  Dying inside, I turned to leave, unsure if I’d ever see Paul again, but knowing our relationship was over nonetheless.