Evan worked late into the night on the bids for the projects Lacey had found. Finally pleased with what he’d accomplished, he stood, stretched the kinks out of his joints and headed home. Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, he stumbled through his apartment door, flicked on the lights and froze. “What the hell?”
Adrenaline spiking, he was suddenly wide awake and alert as he looked in shock at the destruction of his home. The couch cushions were ripped open, the stuffing tossed around the room. The chairs were broken into pieces, the contents of the refrigerator dumped and smeared on the floor. And across one wall was spray-painted in large red letters, “Die, Faggot!” He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and spun around into a crouch, ready to defend himself. But it was only the curtai
