They told me they were done watching. And maybe they are, but isn’t tracking my location without my knowledge just as bad? Okay, maybe not quite as invasive as being watched when I think I’m alone, but it’s still a massive overstep.
Grey overstepped.
I know it’s in his nature, this protective instinct born from trauma. A well-deserved trauma, one I understand.
But still.
He should have told me.
If he’d just said he’d feel better being able to check where I am at all times, I would have shared my location with him myself.
I close the book with a sigh, giving up on the pretense of reading. My fingers itch to grab my phone, to call Grey and sort this out, but the betrayal is too fresh. The hurt is still there, a dull ache in my chest, but it’s mingled with worry now. It’s been hours since I stormed off, and I haven’t heard a peep from Grey, which isn’t like him at all.
I told him to keep away, sure, but I didn’t actually expect him to listen.
It’s Grey.
A small, reluctant smile tugs at my lips. Stubborn, overprotective Grey, actually respecting my boundaries for once. It should make me happy, but instead, it just makes me anxious.
Where is he?
Is he okay?
I realize with a start that I want to know. I want that stupid tracking app on my phone, but I want it on his too. Because this isn’t a one-way street. I worry about him just as much as he worries about me. The anger starts to ebb, replaced by understanding. We need to talk about this, set some ground rules that work for both of us. Find a way to keep Grey’s demons at bay without making me feel like my privacy is being invaded.
I let out a shaky breath, finally admitting to myself what I’ve known all along. These men—Grey, Misha, Oliver—they have as much power over me as I do over them.
Maybe more.
So much for being in control.
A faint knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I walk over, checking the ring camera to see who’s outside. Grey stands there with his back to the door, Peanut sitting patiently next to him.
Does he want to go on a walk and talk it out?
I’m not opposed to that idea.
So, I open the door, arms crossed over my chest, ready to give him a piece of my mind. He deserves to get yelled at a little before we make up.
But when Grey turns around, his eyes are puffy and red, tears streaming down his face. My heart clenches painfully at the sight.
Oh my God.
“Grey…” I gasp as I surge forward, grabbing his forearms, “… what happened?”
“Grandpa,” Grey presses out, but then a sob escapes him, and I pull him and Peanut inside and close the door behind them.
Peanut pads into the room without a fuss, not even acknowledging me, as if he’s feeling sad too. When Grey lets go of the leash, Peanut heads over to the living room as if he’s been here before.
“Grey,” I start again, wanting to ask what happened, but he breaks out into fresh tears and pulls me into a tight hug. His sobs wrack his body, and I can feel his pain as if it were my own, my eyes welling up too.
Please let Mr. Donovan be fine.
I wrap my arms around Grey, holding him close. “Shh,” I whisper softly against his ear. “I’ve got you.”
His grip tightens as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away. Peanut jumps up onto the sofa and lies down with a heavy sigh, watching us with sad eyes.
“Tell me,” I murmur after a moment of silence passes between us.
