I clench my hand around my phone, determined. I have no intention of allowing him to do it again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Allison
As soon as Kyle is gone, I grab my phone and dial the by-now familiar number of the police. I tap my foot on the ground, drawing my robe tighter around myself as it rings.
“Pick up, pick up,” I murmur, pacing backward and forward.
Finally, the line clicks and I pause mid-step, my heart pounding.
“Philadelphia police station, how may I direct your call?” a woman says.
“Hi, I’d like to report a break-in,” I say.
“And where did this break-in occur?”
I rattle off my address. My hands are shaking. The flowers are sitting on the table, mocking me.
“It’s my apartment,” I add. “I think I made a complaint the other day about spray paint…?”
“Yes, thank you,” the woman says. “Please hold the line, I’ll have someone speak to you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
The phone clicks and then music plays. Not wanting to just stand and wait, I head into my bedroom and start collecting some clothes. I know they’ll send someone over to look, and I don’t want to only be wearing a robe when they arrive. I think about trying to have a quick shower, but, with my door broken, there’s no way I want to risk it. What if Jesse happens to turn up?
He would be stupid to do that in broad daylight, but I’ve never claimed that Jesse is smart.
He was smart enough to break into your apartment without you noticing. The thought creeps in and sticks, making me shudder. I still don’t understand how he broke the door quietly enough that neither Kyle nor I heard him. He must have been slow and careful, two words I’ve never associated with him.
“Hello?”
“Hello!” I yelp, pulling up the leg of my pants and trying to keep hold of my phone. “Sorry, thank you for speaking with me.”
“No worries, Miss…?”
“Miller,” I supply. “Allison Miller.”
“Yes, yes,” the man on the other end clears his throat. “I’m Officer Bryant. Now, I’ve noticed that you’ve made a previous complaint at this address about graffiti?”
“That’s right,” I say, putting my phone on speaker and tugging my shirt on. I feel better as soon as I’m dressed.
“You proposed that the culprit was Jesse Willis, your ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” I say. “But there wasn’t any evidence.”
“Yes, yes, I see that.” The officer was silent for a moment. “May I know the nature of this complaint?”
“He broke into my apartment,” I say instantly. “The idiot left me a box of flowers with a card.”
“He signed it?” Bryant asks, startled.
“Well… no, but I recognize his handwriting,” I say awkwardly.
“Hm,” the officer says, and I wince. I know saying that I recognize Jesse’s handwriting isn’t conclusive evidence. “Well, we’ll come around and have a look, and see if we can collect any evidence. Were you the only one home last night?”
If I tell them that Kyle was here, they’ll want to question him. Then he’ll know that I lied to him.