Finding Eden (A Sign of Love Novel)(80)

When we all got to the top of the stairs, one of the policemen said suddenly, "Stand back," and drew his gun. Adrenaline burst through my system and Calder's arm shot out in front of me, pushing me back, before he positioned his body in front of mine.
The police officers hurried past us and one of them nudged Calder's door open with his foot. It was then that I understood. Calder's door was slightly ajar. My heart sank. I knew we had closed it and that Calder had locked it when we had left a couple days before.
I peeked around Calder as the door swung open and gasped, horrified, when I saw the destruction.
Calder let out a choked groan as the police officers went in, their guns drawn. Calder grabbed my hand and moved me to the side of the door as we heard the officers inside the apartment searching it. After about five minutes, they came out. "I'm really sorry," one of the officers said. "Prepare yourself. It's bad in there."
Calder held on to my hand as we both entered the apartment. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying. All the kitchen cabinets had been torn from the walls, and the beautiful flooring was gouged and looked like a jackhammer had been taken to it. The counter was smashed and all the light fixtures had been torn down. Oh God, oh no. Why? Calder had done all the work on this place himself. I looked up at him and he looked shocked, his expression blank, but his jaw hard and set.
I dragged my eyes from him and read the words written in black paint all across what had been clean, white walls: SATAN WORSHIPPERS, ACADIA DEVILS DIE, and EVIL LIVES HERE.
I choked out a horrified sob. My eyes flew to Calder's and before his eyes met mine, I saw something that looked like shame on his face as he read the words. Hector had called him evil, too. Satan's spawn. Somewhere inside, did he believe that was true? Oh, Calder.
Calder pulled me through the destruction that was the open-space living and kitchen area down the hall to his studio. I cried out again when I saw what had been done. Every painting was smashed and destroyed—completely obliterated. I looked around, bile rising up my throat. The same graffiti was all over the walls of his studio, too, but when I looked at Calder, he wasn't looking at that. His eyes were moving over all his ruined work. Devastation hit me in the gut. "Calder," I whispered, "I'm so sorry." My voice broke on the last word.
Calder stared straight ahead for a minute, clenching and unclenching his fists, and then he looked down at me and pulled me in to his chest. We stood there for a few minutes, simply breathing together, tears coursing down my cheeks.
"It's okay," Calder said soothingly, running his hand over my hair. "Those paintings were my longing for you, Eden. I have the real you now. I don't need them."
I shook my head against him. "But it was your work. Your beautiful, beautiful work."
He was quiet for a minute. "I can make more. And now I have you right in front of me so every detail will be right and perfect." His words were calming, but the lack of emotion in his voice scared me.
I turned my face into his T-shirt and cried a little more as he held me. "I'm sorry. I should be holding you right now."
Calder breathed out, smiling a small, sad smile down at me as I gazed up at him. "You are."
I sniffled out a small, sad laugh when I realized that indeed I was–and tightly.
We walked to his bedroom and I looked around unbelievingly at more graffiti and the clothes that were cut and flung all over the room. And in the middle of it all, the sheets had been stripped off our Bed of Healing and the mattress was slashed everywhere. I felt as if it was me that had been slashed right down the middle. I felt violated and sick. Calder's hand gripped mine until it was almost painful. His whole body was tense as we turned and walked out of the room and back to where the two officers were waiting. "There's nothing here to pack," Calder said as we walked past them.