I’d set Grace’s phone up to forward her texts to my cell without her knowledge. After she’d made the decision to have an entire conversation with someone else during our meal at the restaurant yesterday, I decided I wanted no secrets between us.
If she wanted to text Brynne, I’d know. If she was sexting with some idiot, I’d know. If she chose to make plans behind my back again, I’d know.
There would be nothing she could hide from me until I decided this was over. Though at that point, she’d be dead, so it wouldn’t really matter.
Grace: Which location was it again?
McKenna: The one on 6thStreet, not Eagle Ave
Brynne: If it helps, it’s got a purple overhang out front
Grace: Is there parking out front?
Brynne: I’m waiting here with McKenna and there’s like two other cars in the lot. You’re good!!
Grace: So it’s a lot?
McKenna: Paranoid about parking, G?
Grace: Usually I like to scout the place out before I actually go, but since this was last minute I didn’t have time
Brynne: We got you!! You can park next to my car. There’s a ton of space
Where the fuck was she going this time? The woman had a threat dangling over her head to complete her orders to kill me, and she was going out with the girls? Is that really who she was fucking texting yesterday? When she’dtold me, I’d been hesitant to believe her, but I guess she was telling the truth.
I pocketed the phone, then tugged off my gloves and fisted them, needing something to hold onto before I lost my shit. “I have to go.”
“You don’t get to say that shit and then walk away with no explanation,” Austin pressed.
“Technically, I can do whatever the fuck I want,” I replied, heading for the large door that led out of the garage area. I didn’t look back, knowing that pissed Austin off.
“Henley,” Booker called out as I gripped the handle.
I shoved it open while turning to face him. “What?”
“This conversation isn’t over,” he stated, a warning in his tone.
“Well aware,” I muttered before slipping out the door.
If I knew anything about Austin and Booker, it was that they couldn’t let shit go. Obviously, it was for things that mattered. Like my life, or the safety of their women.
Semantics.
I hated explaining shit to them. And once they got involved? I wasn’t sure I could keep Grace hidden from their wrath.
Finding where Grace had gone with the girls wasn’t difficult. There was only one business on Sixth Street with a purple overhang—a fucking spa.
The little killer was getting pampered.
How fucking nice.
She better be real fucking grateful I wasn’t barging inthere and dragging her out with the strap of her thigh sheath wrapped around her neck. Instead, I planned on waiting her out and attacking when she left the facility.
I stared at the skeleton mask sitting on my center console, knowing that once Brynne and McKenna saw it, they’d know who it was. And if they knew what was good for them, they’d let me take Grace with no problems.
Grace and I apparently needed to have a conversation about staying focused.
She needed to be alert at all times, waiting for a text, call, or signal so we could find a reliable contact to figure out who had placed the hit on my head. Her stuffing her phone inside a locker and popping on a fluffy robe was not productive to the cause.
