Arran’s gaze darkened. “It’s barely a couple of hours’ drive. Why go immediately?”
“No reason at all, except if he was fucked up over the news,” Shade added.
“Doesn’t track with leaving Dixie,” Kane observed.
Except it might. I’d pushed him to the edge, then his uncle had brought terrible news that must’ve shaken him to the core. I might be chasing a man who never wanted to see me again. Who’d reject me like my mother did, like my grandmother.
Shade shook his head. “In nearly all cases, the simplest answer is the right one.”
Arran’s gaze burned into me. Only we knew the depths Tyler could be trying to crawl out of.
“I can’t call it,” I breathed.
He gave a kind half-smile. “I can’t either. So we’ll follow both leads.”
Neatly, he divided the crew. He would go to the jail with Shade, Riordan, and Kane. Heretic, Ash, and Convict would accompany me to Primrose’s mansion.
“I’ll come with you,” Mila said.
I nodded, because whether our grandmother had him, or someone worse did, I couldn’t rest until I found out.
Chapter 44
Dixie
Cold nerves tightened my belly on the slow approach to the Marchant mansion. Convict drove me and Mila, and the gates slid silently open on our approach.
Elsewhere, Heretic and Ash snuck into the grounds unseen. It should’ve helped to know I was so well protected, and that Tyler had people ready to extract him, but I only felt nauseated. An urge to turn around and run.
Coming here was so, so wrong.
At the door, I raised a shaky hand to knock.
Wallace opened it. Our uncle stared at me then Mila, finally wrinkling his nose at Convict. “You can wait out here, on this step where I can see you. Ladies, follow me.”
Mila turned to her boyfriend, worry in her eyes. He shrugged and stepped back, tipping his head for us to proceed without him.
The last thing I wanted to do was set foot in this place. I did it anyway.
Mila and I entered the chilly mausoleum I’d once called home. Marble floors, white everything. As a teenager, I’d thought it the height of class. Now I only saw a waste of money.Tyler’s cabin on the ridge with its worn leather sofa and scuffed wooden floor was a home in a way this never could be.
I’d give anything to go back there with him.
Wallace strolled down the hall to the bedroom suite, knocking on a pair of white double doors. Primrose’s room. The last place I’d seen her.
“Come,” she called.
He stepped back and made a gesture for us to go inside. I didn’t like this. It felt like a trap. How, I wasn’t sure. Primrose couldn’t hurt us, and we had backup.
Mila stepped into the room. I followed.
The door closed behind us with a click, and I jumped. Every nerve on edge.
Perched at a dressing table, Primrose calmly watched me. “At last, you’ve come home.”
I refused to soak in any detail. Not of the room, not of her.
“Where is he?” My voice trembled.
