Free Statistic by Dawn Robertson Page B

a call from the alarm company when you didn’t answer the phone for them. The police are here as well. We were worried you may have been home when the intruder came in because your car is in the parking lot.”
    My apartment? Intruder? Police? What the fuck?!
    “What? No, I am out. I am actually on a boat. But I can be back within a half hour or so.” Just as I speak the words Jackson joins me on the deck of the boat mouthing the words is everything okay at me.
    No, everything is not okay at all. I shake my head no and he waits for my phone call to end. A few minutes later I end the call with Paul telling him I will be there as soon as I’m able so I can talk with the police and see what exactly is missing since this clearly is a robbery of some type. Although, I really don’t have much anyone would actually want to steal.
    “Someone broke into my house. My landlord was worried because my car is in my parking spot and I was nowhere to be found.” I realize how bad it looks and what spawned the frantic phone calls. I am grateful for Jackson making these surprise plans with me. Because what would have happened if I was actually home when this person broke into my house? Would they have hurt me? Would they have broken in when I was there?
    Oh my God. What if I was home with Liam when it happened? Would they have hurt me in front of my son? My mind flies a mile a minute as Jackson brings the engines to life, and pulls the anchor up.
    I sit in silence, partially in shock the entire ride back to shore. Running a million different scenarios through my overactive imagination. I wonder if I should move now. How I would afford to find a new place to live. If anyone else in the community has been burglarized recently. Was I the target? Was it a random act? Did someone see me leave earlier in the day and decide I would be the perfect target?
    Shit!
    I hate thinking about all this shit!
    Jackson leaves me be. He can tell I am far too worked up to hold any kind of conversation. But the overprotective alpha male in him is starting to bubble to the surface. I can see the rage in his face. His protectiveness starting to show.
    As the boat pulls into the slip, he finally speaks. But instead of asking me what happened, or what is going on. He asks how I am doing, how I am feeling. His concern focused squarely on me.
    “Aurora, are you alright?” his arms wrap around my body and pull me close, placing a kiss on my forehead. I just nod in reply to him. I can’t even think or speak the words right now. My voice is completely lost. The victim once again.
    No matter how hard I try and break the cycle, I always find myself back in this position. I am sick of being the victim of men and their shitty choices. And now that this situation is even further out of my control, it enrages me. I am pissed that someone would fucking target me with this bullshit just as I am finally getting my shit together and getting stronger.
    “I just don’t get it.” I say quietly as we walk up the dock. “Why me?” a tear slips from my eye and Jackson grabs my hand.
    “A, there are just bad people in the world. It isn’t about them targeting you. They saw an opportunity and they took it. This isn’t personal, Aurora. Don’t take it that way.” his words encouraged me somewhat, but I have a hard time not taking it personally. I take damn near everything personally. Whether it is or not.

    Jackson’s car comes to a stop and I jump out running toward all the police cars and my apartment. The front door is broken off of the hinges like someone kicked the door in. The big foot print on the front door confirms my initial thoughts.
    “Miss, you can’t go in there! It is a crime scene.” A young, baby faced police officer stops me before I can step over the threshold into my apartment. The sanctuary I have been comfortable enough to finally call home. Never realizing my security could be stripped in an instant. This instant.
    “Officer James, it’s