I mean, fucking obviously, I didn’t.
“And we’re in lockdown…” Fallon prompted.
“I was at Matteo’s venue today, working on the grass. Milo invited me in for a drink. And I saw this,” I said, reaching into my pocket to produce the police sketch.
At his blank look, I sighed.
“Didn’t know Gracie did a police sketch.”
“I didn’t know either,” Fallon admitted, looking over at Gracie.
“I… I didn’t think it mattered. Everyone thought it was about the Grassis. I… um… Detective Vaughn asked me to come in. I did it the next morning. I didn’t know I should have told you guys.”
“No one is blaming you,” I said, shaking my head.
“Of course not,” her old man said, giving her knee a pat.
“Anyway… this is Cameron. Back from the fucking dead. And none of this has to do with the Grassis. It’s all me.”
“But why was Gracie targeted?”
“I dunno if she was. Not for the shooting. Think maybe I was the target. But then maybe he saw me protecting Gracie. Then drew some conclusions…”
“Did you see who attacked you tonight?” Fallon asked, looking at Gracie.
“I didn’t… I didn’t really get a good look.”
“But it’s not a stretch to assume it’s Cameron,” I said.
“We’ll get the security footage from the building,” Fallon said, looking over at Brooks, who immediately reached for his phone. “I want to know if he is operating alone, or if he is still running your old crew. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.”
I had nothing to add to that.
“Whatever it takes,” I agreed.
“And it goes without saying, I want your ass staying inside for the foreseeable future. At least until we are done gathering intel.”
“I can do that,” I agreed.
“And Gracie—” Fallon started.
“I want to stay here,” Gracie said, her voice a strange, tight chirp.
To that, Fallon’s brows scrunched.
“Everyone else is at Hailstorm.”
“I know. I just… I’d rather be here. I have, uh, a lot of work to do. And the Wi-Fi sucks there. Because of, um, you know, all the hacking…”
I couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else could see what a terrible liar she was. Or if they were just accepting what she said at face value because there didn’t seem any obvious reason to lie about that.
A few feet away from me, a muscle was ticking in Fallon’s jaw.
We all knew he preferred the girls at Hailstorm. The place was practically impenetrable. But it was also hard to say no to Gracie. Especially because I assumed she didn’t ever ask for much.
Fallon glanced at his father, who offered a little shrug.
“Okay,” Fallon said. “But I want you to stay in the basement as much as possible. Especially to sleep.”
