Chapter Twenty-One
Emery
The next few days go by uneventfully.
Shadow still sleeps in my room every night, and when the nightmares wake me up, he’s already sitting by my side, waiting—head resting on the bed. I’ve come to appreciate the comfort it gives me to wake from the terror plaguing my mind and find him there with a reassurance I’m not still trapped there.
Sebastian continues to come home early every night, and I can’t figure out why. I might have thought it was to keep an eye on me, except he spends most of his time in his office, and I barely see him.
There haven’t been any more encounters like the other night when hefed me. My skin flushes every time I think about it, almost more than the memory of the kiss does.
Part of me is glad Sebastian is keeping his distance. Besides our two heated moments, he’s shown no interest in me.Not like that.Like he could possibly want something more. Like he could wantme. And as much as it hurts, it allowed me to come to terms with what this really is.
My way out.
I knew what the deal we made included, but I’ve been so clouded by the fact I was here with Sebastian I lost sight of what that truly meant. I was his insurance policy for finding his parents’ killer, that’s it, and I needed to start thinking of him as my ticket to freedom. But it turns out trying to suppress feelings you’ve held for nearly four years is a lot harder than I thought it would be.
Especially when you’re trapped in the same penthouse.
Sebastian’s mixed messages are only making things worse.
It physically hurts being so close to the person you, for all intents and purposes, love.
The only thing I know for sure is, even though I may love him, it’s the obsession that’s kept me here all this time—prevented me from moving on and starting my life somewhere else. Somewhere safe.
It is an obsession professionals would call unhealthy, except it’s anything but. I’m not sure I’d be here without it. And not in this penthouse—hispenthouse—but here, on this Earth. Even if my body had still lived, it would be an empty shell of the girl I cling to so tightly.
Despite my heart and head warring against each other, I’ve at least managed to stick to my plan. My journal is still tucked neatly away at the top of the wardrobe in my room, and I haven’t looked at any photos since that day.
Though, it’s hard not being able to use my camera.
I also didn’t think to take the photo of my parents out of my journal before I stashed it. It hurts not seeing their faces every day, and even though it would be so easy to get it, I don’t quite trust myself enough not to pick up right where I left off.
Shadow barks as the lift sounds, breaking me from my thoughts, and takes off to greet Mason for his morning break.
It’s just before ten, but I’m used to the times Mason comes up now, so I don’t panic when the doors open mid-morning and again in the early afternoon. I’m guessing he would have usually come up again before finishing his shift, but since Sebastian has been coming home early, there’s been no need. I trust Mason a little more each day, and I hope my instincts aren’t steering me in the wrong direction.
Standing up from my usual spot on the couch, I meet Mason in the foyer.
My ankle is feeling a little better. It’s still sore to move certain ways, and standing for extended periods can be painful, but I’m at least walking with less of a limp.
“Morning, Mason,” I say as I reach them.
“Good morning, Grace. How have you been?” Mason crouches down to welcome Shadow.
“Not bad. Just going for the record of most renovation shows watched.”
He lets out a laugh. “Are you sure you don’t have one of those movie subscriptions or something on that thing?” He gestures to the television and straightens back to his full height, which, if I had to guess, would be similar to Sebastian’s, maybe a smidge shorter.
It wouldn’t be as bad if it didn’t feel like I was watching the same episodes every other day. Sometimes even within the same day.
“I have no idea. I don’t think Sebastian watches television.” My forehead creases. In fact, I don’t think he does much of anything unless it’s work. Even today, he’s at the office, and it’s Saturday. The man never stops.
“Hmm. I’ll have a look later. See if we can’t set you up with something more entertaining. I have a subscription to one of those streaming services—can’t say I use it often, though.”
I nod absently. “How’s work today?”
“Pretty quiet. Nothing to complain about,” he says, scratching the German Shepherd’s head.