Page 17 of Unlocked

Her gaze locked on the bed, and Archer saw the moment it hit her. Not fear exactly, she'd already burned through that, but the quiet, disoriented shock of seeing something private violated. Something of hers torn apart by someone who had wanted her to know exactly what they were capable of.

"This…" Her voice faltered. She cleared her throat. "This is extreme."

He nodded once, even though she hadn't asked him a question.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. She crossed the room slowly and stopped at the edge of the bed. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the ruined mattress, at the slashes that had gone too deep to be anything but malicious.

Archer watched her swallow hard.

He could tell at a glance they hadn't taken anything of value. Jewelry still glinted on the dresser. Electronics sat untouched. This wasn't about theft. It was about exposure. Control. Letting her know someone had been here. Letting her imagine what else they could have done. Her bedroom should have been a refuge. Instead, it looked like a battlefield stripped after the fighting was done.

Something tightened in his chest. Cold and precise. Not explosive. Useful. The kind of anger that sharpened focus rather than clouding it. He prided himself on neutrality. His job was to run the Society, not to become emotionally invested in its members. But this required a response, and not a warm one. Tatum was a board member. What had been done here was calculated and cruel, and it demanded a cold, calculated answer. The kind Archer was very good at providing.

"This wasn't random," he said evenly. "This is a message. They want you to know they've been here. They want you to be afraid."

She nodded, a small jerky movement, like she already knew that and hated it.

Archer scanned the room again, committing every detail to memory, but his attention kept returning to Tatum, to the way she stood stiffly, as if she believed that if she relaxed even a fraction, she might shatter.

Whoever had done this hadn't just torn apart a room. They'd tried to break the person who lived in it. And as Archer watched her standing there, surrounded by the wreckage, one thing became very clear.

They'd underestimated her.

And in doing so, they'd made a serious mistake.

He touched her arm. "I think you should put together an overnight bag. We'll take you to the Society's head office. There are apartments there for board member use, and I've already asked that one be prepared for you."

"I should stay and clean up," Tatum murmured.

"I've arranged for people to do that. You cannot be here alone until we understand exactly what is going on."

Tatum turned and looked at him directly. "We?"

"You're in danger. As a board member, you have more privileges than regular members. I can⁠—"

"As a board member, I know you're not responsible for my safety outside of Society premises," she said. "I can't ask for special treatment."

Archer did his best not to snap a command back at her. She'd just called him out for trying to help her, and what made it worse was that she was correct. He let a beat pass. "You're right. However, in circumstances like these, I have some latitude. I'm simply suggesting you stay at the Society as a convenience. You know you'll be safe there."

He kept his voice cool and his expression neutral, but some part of him wanted to tell her to stop being stubborn. Everything about this screamed danger. She needed to be somewhere secure, and he needed her there now.

"As for having this place dealt with, that was an afterthought. “I have a forensics team coming to go over everything properly. Unless you'd prefer to involve the police…" He let his voice trail off and waited.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then shook her head. "No police." A beat passed, and her shoulders dropped. "And I'll take you up on the offer of somewhere to stay. The rest, the cleaning and forensics, I think…"

Ryker appeared in the doorway. "Archer?"

Archer gave Tatum a brief nod and followed Ryker out into the hallway, down toward the living area. "What is it?"

"This is going to sound unusual, but we think the intruder came in through the sliding glass doors on the balcony."

Archer looked at his head of security. Then he turned to Rush, who was crouched at the base of the balcony doors, examining the frame.

"Are you certain?" Archer asked.

Rush nodded. "He came in this way. The front door hasn't been touched."

"I can confirm the hallway cameras didn't pick up anything," Ryker added, "and they weren't tampered with. Someone got off on the wrong floor around the time Ms. Wellington heard the first thump and reached out. Cameras show her clearly. A Mrs. Robinivich from the floor above. She was walking her dog. Apparently, she gets off on the wrong floor regularly."