Grayson had to tilt his head down so their eyes stayed aligned. “You said you’d go to a safe house. I’m just asking you to go a little early—and a lot farther away.”
“And I’m telling youno,” Reece shot back. “You said I wasn’t your prisoner.”
“You’re not,” said Grayson. “But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna come to all the awful places the Dead Man has to go.”
Reece moved right into Grayson’s personal space, close enough to raise a concern about accidentally making contact. His cheeks were flushed and his shoulders tense. “Try and stop me.”
“Reece—”
“I will steal your truck again before I leave you to face whatever’s going on here alone,” Reece said tightly, and he didn’t flinch, so he wasn’t lying. He tilted his head back, looking up at Grayson. “Cedrick Stone was going to use Jamey to corrupt me all the way. He was going to do that by tor—by tor—” He broke the word off with an angry sound. “By hurting her in every terrible way he could think of. Is that what happened to you and your brother? Did they try to useyourpain to make your brother more powerful?”
There was a muffled crash down the hall, like someone in another office had just thrown something against the wall.
Grayson took a breath. “Reece—”
“And these creeps put details in a fucking document, like you’re some kind of lab experiment?” Reece demanded, pointing at the laptop, his bare hand coming dangerously close to brushing Grayson’s arm.
Another crash, then another.
“I think you might need to take a couple deep breaths,” Grayson said.
“Stop trying to distract me,” Reece snapped. “What happened to you?”
In the hall, someone threw open their office door so hard it swung one hundred and eighty degrees to smash into the wall. With a shout, a petite redhead in sensible shoes and dress pants threw herself out of the office and at the door across the hall. A moment later, a man’s yell split the floor.
Grayson’s gaze flicked back to Reece. His dark brown eyes were glittery bright as he glared up at Grayson, his chin high and movements jerky. “It doesn’t matter what happened,” Grayson said. “I keep telling you, it’s not worth getting angry over something done to a man without feelings.”
“And I’m not listening.” Reece’s voice was darker, more gravelly than normal. “Because you’re worth everything.”
More yells were coming from down the hall. At the far end, the elevator doors were opening. “Reece,” Grayson said, trying to keep his voice soft, “I think you’re projecting your anger and setting off the floor.”
Reece didn’t seem to hear him. “The more you refuse to answer, the more I know I’m right,” he said, too loud, as the four people who tumbled out of the elevator were already swinging at each other.
“Care Bear,”Grayson said, and Reece finally blinked, finally looked at him and seemed to hear him. Grayson leaned down, holding his gaze. “You’re starting a white-collar brawl.”
“What?” Reece glanced out the windows and froze. “Oh shit.” His face went from red to white and then back to red. “And I’m still pissed. I know you were hurt and I can’t stop being furious.”
Grayson grabbed his shirtsleeve. “Come on.” He tugged Reece into moving. “Get behind me.”
They stepped into the hall, and Grayson had to immediately dodge the coffee mug that came sailing his way.
“Shit,” Reece swore again. His skin was mottled and sweaty. “I have to get under control. Oh, watch out!”
The petite redhead in the pantsuit was coming at Grayson, swinging a small purse that could probably barely bruise.
Meanwhile, three men from the elevator were heading straight for Reece, who wasn’t moving and hadn’t even seemed to notice them. Just a wide-eyed little lemming, completely oblivious to any danger to himself, breathing too hard and looking around in a panic.
Grayson dodged the woman’s purse and stepped in front of Reece in one motion, throwing up a hand to block a punch from one of the men. Another man had grabbed a large potted plant off a marble-topped table and was bringing it around like an Olympic discus.
“Fire door,” Grayson said, twisting to get his elbow in between the plant and Reece’s head, so that the pot shattered against the edge of the table instead.
“Evan, your arm!” Reece said, without even looking at the ceramic pot that had barely missed his temple. “And this guy—sir, I am very angry right now, but if you hit me you might hurt yourself—”
“Reece, would youstay putfor once, don’t step any closer to him—”
The man swung the broken ceramic pot at another man at the same time someone else was swinging at the woman, and if Reece had to watch this much longer, he’d start hyperventilating.
Reece wouldn’t be able to see pain on Grayson’s face, though. He pivoted, putting himself between the men and taking the blow himself. Pain erupted across his right shoulder blade as the broken ceramic pot tore through his sweater, but he ignored it.
