“Now’s not the time, Mason,” I say, losing more control by the second.
“Now is the time, Sebastian. You have no idea where she is, and driving around the city aimlessly isn’t going to help anyone. I never questioned you as to why Grace showed up here one day. Clearly, there’s something between the two of you,” he says, and Easton visibly tenses at the words, but Mason continues, “And frankly, it was none of my business, but after everything that has happened tonight, you’re going to tell me.”
“You’re right. It’s none of your fucking business,” Easton snaps.
“I’m making it my business,” Mason says, pinning him with a hard stare. “You can start by telling me whose blood you were drenched in and why your hands are ripped to shreds.” He brings his gaze back to me.
Silence fills the air around us as I think of what to say. How can I be sure I can trust Mason? He’s worked here for as long as I’ve lived in the building, and we’re close enough that I trust him to come into my penthouse and help with Shadow, but this is different. Not to mention fucking illegal. Fuck, what other option do I have? “The man who killed my parents.”
I don’t say anything else and let the words sink in. I’ve never gone into much detail about their deaths, so I don’t know how much he knows.
Mason nods slowly. “Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
He’s silent as he processes the information. “Is anyone going to be able to tie you to it?”
“They’re never going to find a body to connect anythingwith,” Easton cuts in.
Mason nods again, and his lack of words sets me on edge. I just told him I killed someone, and all he’s concerned about is if I can be tied to the murder. Maybe he understands more than I thought he would. “What does this have to do with Grace?”
“She helped us find him,” I say, and his brows furrow. “But she wasn’t meant to be there tonight.” I shoot a glare to Easton, but he does one right back. I don’t mention the stalking or our deal or the fact that as soon as our deal was up, she would leave. Although that thought stirs something.Would she have gone there?
“Shit, how much did she see?” Mason asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, and it’s the truth. Easton doesn’t offer anything up because he has no fucking idea either. If he did, I doubt he would have let her leave in the first place. “There is somewhere she might have gone, though,” I say, and whilst the thought is alarming, it’s better than fucking nothing.