“Then you call,” he growls. “Isaac’s coming up until I can get there. And since when do you leave the office this early?”
“No, East.”
“Yes,Bas. It’s notsafe. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“I can handle it.”
The image of her smiling at me like I hung the damn moon slams back into me.
“I don’t think she wants to hurt me,” I say.
A humourless laugh fills my ear. “It doesn’t matter what you think. I’m not taking that risk.”
“It’s not your risk to take. It’s mine, Easton.”
Does she confuse me?Yes.
Do I trust her?Absolutely not.
Do I really think she would hurt me?
No. I don’t think so.
I sit on the edge of the bed and rest my elbow on my knee, letting my head fall into my palm, my fingers spreading into my hair. “Do you trust me?” I ask him.
“I don’t trust her.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you trustme?”
Easton is silent again.
After a moment, he sighs before saying, “Yes, I trust you.”
Some of the tension I’d been holding deflates. “Do what you need to, East. Have ten guys outside if you want, but I can’t deal with anyone else in my space right now.”
“But—”
“No, listen. I’m telling you I can handle it. Trust me?”
Again, he doesn’t answer right away.
“Fine,” he grits out, and I can tell it’s the complete opposite of what he wants to say. “But if she so much as looks at you wrong, you call me immediately.”
“Deal.”
“I don’t like this,” he says.
“You don’t have to.”
We’re both quiet for a moment.
“What did you find today?” I ask, but I’m already resigned to knowing it wasn’t anything useful. He would have called or come back to the office if he’d found something.
“Fuck all. The address was a bust, he hadn’t lived there in five years, but I have Aiden searching for a recent address. Something we can fucking use.” Easton says, and I still feel deflated even though I was expecting it. After exchanging a few more words, we end the call.
Before heading into my bathroom, I take off my suit jacket and throw it on the bed. Rolling up the sleeves of my shirt, I splash some cold water on my face and run my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame the mess. Having run my hands through my hair so much today, it doesn’t do a whole lot to fix it, and I decide to leave it alone before venturing back to the main area of the penthouse.
Grace looks up from her seat on the barstool when I enter the kitchen but quickly averts her eyes. The blush from earlier is still visible.