This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Behind me, I heard Grace get off the bed and walk around. A drawer closed, and I assumed she was getting dressed. I pretended to give her privacy—as if she needed that after what we’d just done—while I got myself under control.
Minutes of silence stretched before she finally spoke. “Henley?—”
“I need to tell the guys.”
More quiet passed between us.
“Okay…” I hated how defeated her voice sounded. Where was the little killer I had seen come out of her? The girl I just ruined in bed?
“You can either come, or stay.” I stood and fixed my cock back into my jeans. Once I was done, I faced her.
So many emotions passed over her features, but one stood out the most: shame.
God fucking damnit.The last thing I wanted was for her to feel embarrassed for what we’d just done.
She tried to mask it, but I saw it. Every single inkling of regret in her eyes.
Why was I doing this to myself? To her?
Why couldn’t I have taken the easy route and killed her when I had the chance? I didn’t need her to figure out who wanted me dead—the list was long.
Using her wasn’t going to get me any closer to solving the puzzle.
But it was too late to look back now. And as she stared at me from across the room, the bed we’d made a mess of moments ago standing between us, we both realized it.
“I’ll come.”
Chapter 13
Grace
As we walked up the porch steps, it seemed as if Henley was preparing himself for something. For what, I wasn’t sure. An atomic bomb? A punch to the face? All of the above? Whatever it was, he’d been like this the entire drive to the ranch, setting my nerves aflame.
The door was silent when Henley opened it, and he allowed me to enter first. The quiet made the unknown worse, the possibilities of what was to come blaring louder in my mind.
Would the guys be upset the girls had been at the spa with me? It’d been my idea, after all. And the guy had been after me, thus putting them in danger.
Basically, all of this was my fault. I wouldn’t blame them if they were mad at me.
As soon as we crossed the front entry and the living room came into view on our right, we found Booker standing in front of the fireplace with his large arms crossed, while Austin paced the large space. McKenna and Brynne sat on the couch, eyes immediately snapping to me.
They sprang up, both wearing oversized comfy attire, and closed the distance before wrapping me in a big hug.
“We were so worried,” Brynne said, voice muffled in my hair.
“We tried calling, but you weren’t answering. We didn’t know where you were,” McKenna added, hand rubbing up and down my back.
We parted, and my eyes fell to the thick wool rug beneath my fuzzy black slippers. “I was…busy.” I cleared my throat and raised my gaze to them, feigning confidence. “Henley stitched me up.”
“Stitchedyou?” Brynne exclaimed, confused.
“You were hurt?” McKenna asked, voice just as shrill and perplexed.
I nodded, tugging down the shoulder of my oversized zip-up far enough to reveal the bandage over the wound. “A bullet grazed me.”
McKenna’s eyes bulged. “Someone shot atyou? Is that what all those gunshots were at the spa?”
