Easton spins at the sound of my voice, his brows dipping low over his eyes as he squares his shoulders. “What are you talking about?” he asks, but I know he knowsexactlywhat I’m talking about from his defensive stance.
“What. Did. You.Do?” I ask, only a step away from him now.
“What you should have done,” he says, pinning me with a hard stare.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You know she’s lying, Bas. Somehow, she’s blinded you to what’s right in front of your fucking face,” he grits out.
“Grace didn’t have anything to do with what happened to my parents.” She may not have opened up to me completely, but I know enough of her past to believe her when she says she wasn’t involved. Instead, knowing what she was going through, has my fists clenching at my sides and my stomach rolling.
Easton shakes his head at me—his jaw clenched tight. “Well, we were going to find out.” He shoots a glare at the guy he’d been arguing with. The guy, who right now, I’m too wound up to think of his name, swallows visibly under the weight of East’s stare. “But it seems like her reaction to what you did to her boy speaks for itself,” Easton says, bringing his glare back to me.
Her boy?I might’ve spent longer on his response if it wasn’t for what it implied. “You brought herhere?” A growl rips from my throat at the thought of her being here. How much did she see? “Then let her fucking run out in the middle of the night,alone?” My voice rises with every word as worry floods my veins. What the hell was he thinking?Fuck.
“She wasn’t supposed to leave,” he says through clenched teeth.
Easton’s head snaps sideways as my fist connects with his jaw, and the skin on my knuckles rips open even more, but I don’t care.
“You get one shot, Sebastian,” he says darkly, flexing his jaw.
Without another word, I turn away from him before I do something I regret. I might be beyond pissed off with him, but it can’t erase twenty-five years of friendship, even though right now, I’m questioning how the hell we’re going to move past this shit. I need to get back to Grace.
How the fuck did she get from here back to the penthouse?
And who the hell was chasing her?
My phone rings just as I’m pulling into the underground parking lot. I don’t know how fast I was driving to make it back here so quickly, but I couldn’t care less.
“Is Grace okay?” I ask as I throw the car in park and jump out.
“She’s not here,” Mason says with a note of panic.
“What? Are you sure?” She has to be there. “Did you check the balcony?”
“She’s not here, Sebastian.”
No.
I don’t bother responding to Mason. Instead, I rush into the lift. It feels like hours until the doors open into the penthouse, and I don’t waste a second.
“Grace!”
“Sebastian?” I hear Mason’s voice before I see him, but when he rounds the corner into the foyer, he freezes at the sight of me. Following his gaze, I look down at myself. Blood spatters cover the front of my white shirt, and my hands are smeared in crimson. Shit, I hadn’t even thought about what I might look like. I’d just needed to get here.
With a shake of my head, I move further into the penthouse and past Mason.
“What the hell is going on, Sebastian?” Mason asks, but I don’t answer him.
“Grace!” I yell again as I search the kitchen, then the living room. Shadow appears by my side, but I can’t think of anything other than Grace right now.
“I checked everywhere. She’s not here.”
It’s not that I think Mason’s lying, but I need to check for myself.
I’m back in the main area three minutes later with no sign of Grace. Did she run? Has someone taken her? The former has my fists tightening at my side, but the latter sends panic so raw through me that it feels like it’s tearing me apart from the inside.
“I need to find her,” I say and start for the lift, except before I can move past Mason, he plants a hand on my chest, stopping me.