She didn't trust him enough to move in with him.
Damn her. He had no intention of walking away from her now and she should know it. At this rate, he would be the one moving in with her, and though he liked her apartment fine, something screamed out at him that she liked his a hell of a lot better.
"You know you're being stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn," he told her as the elevator made its ascent.
"I'm certain that's what you believe, Chase," she told him calmly.
Her tone had remained calm through every argument he had presented her with.
"Kia, if you don't stop using that patronizing little tone with me, we're going to have problems here," he told her, staring down at her, wishing he could be angry with her.
A part of him was amazed at how easily she had dealt with first his male outrage, and then his brooding silence through breakfast, and finally his arguments on the drive to her apartment.
"I haven't begun patronizing you yet," she pointed out, a hint of a smile curving her lips. "I can begin early if you like. I was waiting until you began pouting for that one."
"I do not pout."
"Of course you don't, Chase." Now that was patronizing.
He grunted at the amusement in her gaze. "It's going to be damned inconvenient moving my stuff into your place," he informed her.
"You haven't received an invitation," she pointed out.
"I haven't received a refusal either," he growled. "And if I think I'm going to hear one, you may not be able to speak for a very long time, Kia."
"You'll gag me?" Her brow arched.
"The idea has its merits, but I thought more along the lines of something more pleasurable."
The elevator doors slid open. Chase kept his hand at her back, tensing as they started down the hall.
Something was off. He could feel it. He stared around the narrow hallway, the closed doors leading to her corner apartment.
The security cameras followed their progress, and for a moment, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what bothered him. It took precious seconds before his hand tightened on her hip and he pulled her to a stop just before reaching her door.
"Stop." The command was low, his tone intense enough that even he nearly winced.
Kia flinched and stared up at him before glancing around the hallway.
"Kia, your door is open."
Chase stared at the display on the security pad by her door. It was active, and appeared normal. He saw the slightest crack at the joint. The door hadn't closed firmly.
"It should be closed." Her voice was whisper soft, filled with trepidation, as he moved her back quickly. "I always check the door, Chase."
He knew that. Kia was a grown woman, well aware of the dangers of leaving doors open, of not watching out for herself.
He continued to pull her back until they reached a turn in the hall that led to the other side of the building. With the protection of the wall between them and her apartment door he jerked his cell phone from his hip and hit the speed dial.
"Hey, bro, I'm leaving Ian's. Where are you?" Chase heard something in his brother's voice, some knowledge, a sense of the bond they had once shared as boys.
"Kia's apartment. Door's open, security's been jacked. I'm calling Detective Allen but I need you here."
"It's going to take me at least twenty," Cameron informed him briskly, obviously moving at a fast pace. "Are you secure?"
"As possible," he grunted. "I want to watch the door, but the only cover we have is the bend in the hall. I doubt that whoever got in is still there, but I want this covered, and I want Allen checking for prints."
Carl Allen, a detective who had also been given membership into the club years before, was the only one Chase trusted at this point. After the fiasco that summer, Moriah's death and Carl's efforts to cover the fact that Chase had fired the death-dealing bullet, Chase knew he could trust him to cover this as well.
"Get him there." A car door slammed at Cameron's end. "Ian's with me, and I'm putting a call in to Khalid. They share ownership of the building and can make certain everything goes smooth for Allen as well as Kia if there's any trouble. Stay in place, we'll be right there."
"Twenty isn't 'right there', brother," Chase grunted. "Allen will be here in less. I'll let his men enter before assessing the damage. Get your ass here, though. I don't know yet what we're looking at."
He cut the call off, then hit Detective Allen's number.
"Allen here." The detective answered on the first ring.
"It's Falladay. I need you at Kia Rutherford's apartment." He gave the detective the name and address of the building. "Bring some men with you. Someone's tampered with the security and left her door open."