Summers' Heat

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Makayla's stomach rumbles as she sighs and remains seated on her couch. Around her, her house is full of uniformed cops. Aria returns and hands her a cup of tea. She's not shaken up but the other woman had insisted and since it gives her something to do, Makayla agrees. 

She hadn't seen much, just her bedroom trashed, before Aria had dragged her away and called the cops. Without Makayla having to recommend it, Aria had asked for both Sargent Morena and Lieutenant Rojas to come to the scene. 

Now, they're just waiting for them. 

Makayla hopes when Mateo arrives, she can get some answers and hopefully assess the damage. The insurance will pay for anything stolen or anything large broken but she really just hopes nothing irreplaceable is damaged.


When Mateo does turn up, she rises to her feet as he takes her in his arms.
"Dios mio, chica. When I said I'll see you later, this isn't what I meant," he mutters to her, cupping her cheek as he releases her.
"I didn't exactly plan for this, Mateo," she points out with a smile despite the circumstances.
"Can I go see the damage now?"


His expression shuts down as he lets his hand drop and steps back.
"That's not a good idea."
"Why?" she asks then accuses, "you already went up there didn't you?"
"Yes, and that's why I'm telling you, you don't need to see that. Let CSI finish and then we'll get you packed and take you somewhere safe."


Uh. And leave her out of it? She doesn't think so. 

Cocking her hip, she crosses her hands and clicks her tongue against her teeth.

 
"I want to see it, Mateo. I might be able to help."
His tone is gentle but there's a steel core to it indicating he's willing to be just as stubborn as her.
"Not happening chica. You don't need to see that."
"If he just trashed my bedroom then what's the big deal?"


He opens his mouth to respond when Sargent Andrea Morena enters the room. Both Aria and Makayla watches as she tugs Mateo away for a moment and whispers something to him. They're too far away and too quiet for Makayla to hear what they're saying but whatever it is causes Mateo's body to tense and his expression to go stone cold.
So, it's important. Whatever it is, is big which means no way is Makayla being side-lined.


Taking an executive decision for herself, Makayla turns on her heels and darts between the uniformed officers up the stairs. Aria follows her but says nothing and for her quietness, Makayla feels a touch warmer towards her.
Unfortunately, by the time she reaches the top of the stairs, Mateo has realised her escape and charges behind her. He captures her arm and spins her around to face him before she has a chance to enter her own bedroom.

"Makayla, what did I say?"
"I told you, I need to be kept in the loop. Either tell me or show me. This is my house Mateo, I deserve to know."

His rich chocolate eyes bore into her, assessing for chinks in her armour to give him an in. Finding none, he sighs regretfully.
"Fine," he begrudgingly says, "you can look. But no touching, not until CSI is finished."

"Agreed," quickly replies Makayla.

Aria on one side and Mateo on the other, Makayla feels like she's being led down the gallows when they escort her into her own bedroom.


Her gazes goes around first to all the clothes thrown over her floor. The CSI people are dusting various surfaces, particularly her bedside drawer. It's where her empty cup had sat from last night, very similar to the one that's now downstairs still full of tea. The one up here though is smashed to pieces on her floor. Damn, now she's down one in her set of 4. None of that is that bad though, she moves her gaze up onto her bed and freezes. Her blood runs cold as fear clenches her muscles tight.
Oh.
That's why Mateo hadn't wanted her to see the room.


Her sheets are all torn up, her mattress and pillows slashed but it's what the man left that has Makayla's heart thundering. Her panties. Her panties lie is the middle of the bed.
Not just a pair from her drawers either. It's the pair she wore yesterday so this guy went and got them from her laundry basket. As if that's not sick enough, they're crumpled and coated in what she thinks is icing at first glance. At second glance she realises that it's definitely not icing.