Vic bumped into his back as Sadie headed for the bushes to relieve herself. “Matty—”
“God damnit,” Matt cursed.
The passenger side window of his Jaguar had been shattered. Shards of broken glass stuck up like jagged teeth from the car door and littered the sidewalk. The side view mirror hung at an awkward angle, and the hood was bumpy and pocked as if something hard had struck it. Matt’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the damage, and he glanced around, sure someone was watching his reaction. Who’d done this? And why?
Lost for words, Matt swore again. “They fucked up my car.” Beneath his bare feet, the concrete steps were cold as bone. He came a little farther out and held the door for Vic. Waving a hand at his vehicle, he asked no one in particular, “Who the hell did this? That’s my car, Vic. They fucked up my car.”