Resisting a police search. That's a serious offense. This isn't a search. Marcus growled through gritted teeth. This is harassment.
The officers finally stepped back, leaving Marcus against the wall. His jaw was tight with controlled fury as Griggs triumphantly yanked open the display case. The glass door crashed to the floor, sending shards everywhere. Medals and photographs scattered across the carpet. Griggs kicked them aside carelessly as he pretended to search the case.
Angela's distinguished service medal skidded under the couch. "Oops," Griggs said with a mocking smile. Angela's hands shook as she kept filming, documenting every moment of senseless destruction. The house she'd worked so hard to make into a home was being systematically torn apart. In the kitchen, officers dumped out every cabinet and drawer.
Food containers burst open on the floor, mixing with broken dishes. They pulled out appliances and flipped over furniture, claiming to search for hidden compartments. The bedroom was even worse. The mattress was slashed open, clothes were scattered everywhere, and personal items were carelessly broken. Angela's jewelry box, a gift from her grandmother, was dumped out and stomped on.
"Finding any illegal weapons? " Marcus asked coldly as Holt supervised the destruction. "Evening's not over," Hol replied. "But making a mess sure takes time, doesn't it? " For over an hour, the officers continued their search. They broke doors off hinges, punched holes in walls, claiming to look for hidden spaces, and destroyed anything that looked meaningful to Angela and Marcus. "Finally, Hol signaled his officers to finish up.
"Looks like your anonymous tip didn't pan out tonight," he said, surveying the devastation with satisfaction. "But we'll be watching this house very carefully from now on. Get out, Marcus ordered quietly. What was that? Griggs stepped forward aggressively.
He said get out, Angela repeated, still recording. You've done enough damage. The officers filed out, leaving the front door hanging crookedly on broken hinges. Their police lights continued to flash outside, broadcasting the raid to the whole neighborhood. Hol paused in the doorway.
Better clean this place up. Never know when we might need to search again. He smiled coldly. Shame about all the damage, but that's what happens when suspects resist. After the police finally drove away, Angela sank down in the destroyed living room.
Broken glass crunched under her feet. The house she'd worked so hard to make beautiful, was in ruins. Her military honors, symbols of her service and sacrifice, lay scattered and damaged on the floor. "He's going to get away with everything," she whispered, looking at the destruction around them. "The evidence, the investigation.
None of it matters. " "Holse showing us he can do whatever he wants. " Marcus knelt beside her scattered medals, carefully gathering the symbols of her service. The distinguished service medal was scratched from being kicked under the couch. The display case lay in pieces just like their sense of security in their own home. Angela's phone was still recording as tears finally slid down her cheeks. Everything they'd built, everything they'd tried to protect felt shattered beyond repair.
In just one night, Holt had demonstrated exactly how much power he held and how helpless they were to stop him. Sunlight streamed through the broken blinds as Angela and Marcus surveyed their destroyed home in the harsh morning light. The damage looked even worse than it had during the midnight raid. Shattered glass sparkled across the floor like cruel confetti. Slashed furniture stuffing drifted in the air every time they moved.