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“Different dads.” He answers the question before anyone can ask why their last names are different.
“You mind if we sit down and talk?” He asks me.
I nod, signing yes, because he makes me nervous.
I can tell he doesn’t understand, so Camille steps in. “I can help translate.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Camille.”
“I know. Hats off to you for handling this one.” He tips his chin towards Jace before he looks back to me. “After you.”
After a lengthy conversation, midway through my nerves calmed enough for me to be able to speak verbally to Jordan without wanting to crawl in a hole and never come out. This was important for Greyson, so I decided it was time I set my insecurities aside. For the moment at least. I needed to be strong. To be straight forward and voice the truth.
“The only thing solid right now is the murder weapon.” Jordan looks up at me. “How did your gun get into Blaine’s condo?”
“I have no idea.” I ran through the last week in my mind. “The last time I saw it was the night Blaine came to dinner and I called things off.” I close my eyes. “I had pulled it out of my drawer and told him to leave. He had already hit me and was dragging me by my hair when I elbowed him in the ribs.”
I pop open my eyes. “Greyson showed up. He helped me get upstairs and into the shower then he cleaned up.” My eyes dart to his. “Everything was clean when I got back downstairs, and the gun was no longer on the floor.”
“So, he picked it up?” Camille asks.
“He must have. That’s why his fingerprints are on it. He must have put it back where I keep it.”
“Ok. Did you check the drawer again?” Jordan asks.
“No.” I sigh defeated.
“It’s ok. I’m just trying to see every possibility.” He scrubs a hand over his stubble. “Who else knows you have a gun and where it is?”
“Just my family. Cami, Adam, Dad. Whit may, I’m not sure.” I shrug.
Different scenarios race through my brain then I freeze. It never even occurred to me.
“The blackouts,” I mumble.
“The what?” Cami rubs her hand across my back, trying to soothe me.
“He’s been….” I pause not knowing how much I should share. It’s private, but this seems like something Jordan should know.
“His injuries?” Jordan asks.
I nod.
“He told me. I needed to know everything, and he admitted to having symptoms lately. That may help us or hurt us. Depends on which way the prosecutor wants to go.”
Dread pulls at my heart. For the first time I’m actually sitting here considering it.
That Greyson may have actually killed my ex-fiancé.
Chapter 52
Greyson
I spent my first night in jail. It was a picnic compared to the gut wrenching tears I watched roll down Tilly’s face as she witnessed me get cuffed. I hated she saw me like that. Like I was some monster. And maybe I was. The more I tried to retrace my steps, the more unsure I became. I knew my confusion and lost time had happened once or twice. Could it have happened that night? Was I so angry that it clouded my judgement? My control? Did I take that gun?
The arraignment went just as Jordan suspected. Because of my status, and wealth, they decided I was a risk. Bail was denied and I was hauled back to this steel box until I stand trial or Jordan could get the charges dismissed. He seems like a man who knows his shit. I trust Jace, so in turn, my trust is in him to do whatever he’s got to do.
“Roy. You got a visitor.” The guard opens my cell, so I unfold myself from the hard as fuck bed and follow him through the hall.
He leads me to a room that’s lined with chairs on one side. On the other side of the glass is more chairs.
