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As he snored beside me, I’d laid awake for hours, replaying the entire night in my mind searching for anything I might have said or done to upset him. But I couldn’t think of a single thing. Only after convincing myself whatever upset him, or caused his headache, had happened in Dalton’s office, I’d finally been able to fall asleep.
But waking up alone—something I’d never done since moving in with Grant—my worries roared back to life. Determined to find out what was bothering him, I rolled out of bed. After completing my morning ritual, I tossed on my clothes and strode downstairs.
As I neared the kitchen, Grant and Mack’s deep voices filtered through the air.
“I know you want to nab this drug dealer. You’ve been after him for almost a year.”
“I do,” Grant growled. “He’s pissing me off.”
“That little maggot isn’t what’s got you pissed, and we both know it,” Mack chided. “Look, I’ll be happy to meet with the snitch for you. Hell, I’ll grab the fucking drug dealer, too. Just say the word.”
As I stepped into the kitchen, waves of tension slammed me.
That wasn’t what stopped me dead in my tracks.
No, what stopped me cold was seeing Grant.
Though he sat in his usual spot at the table, there was nothing usual about his posture.
His elbows were pressed against the glossy wood, and his forehead was resting on the base of his palms. Mack sat beside him, face lined with concern, leaning in close with his focus glued on Grant.
“I appreciate the offer, man, but the snitch is a paranoid little rodent. If you show up at the meet point in my place, he’ll freak out and slink back into the sewer.” Grant heaved out a heavy sigh. “Why? Why’d the fucker have to crawl out now, when all hell’s break—”
Mack gave him a little nudge while he cleared his throat. Stopping mid-sentence, Grant raised his head before our three gazes collided.
Quickly wiping the haunted look off his face, Grant smiled at me. For the first time, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Morning, little one.”
“Morning, you two,” I said. Painting on a smile as I breezed into the room, pressing a kiss to Grant’s cheek before continuing straight to the coffee pot. Intuition told me I was going to need a whole lot of caffeine this morning.
“How’s your headache?” I asked, filling my mug.
“Oh, it’s gone. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really, but I can grab a nap later,” I replied before taking that first glorious sip. “Sounds like you’re gonna do some bounty hunting today.”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided if I want to leave the ranch.”
“Why not?”
“Sit down, Emma. There’s something I need to tell you.”
His serious expression and apprehensive tone sent a foreboding chill down my spine.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, easing into the chair beside him before setting my mug on the table.
Holding me with a tormented gaze, Grant cupped my hand and sucked in a deep breath.
As he relayed the horrifying details of his conversation with Ian and James in Dalton’s office, panic and fear roared through my veins. My heart bounced off my ribs and my entire body quaked while I frantically tried to draw air into my constricting lungs.
“Easy, Emma,” Grant murmured, strumming his thumb over the back of my hand. “Don’t freak out on me, sweetheart.”
Too late.
“James was the only one who recognized you last night, and he will not breathe a word,” Mack reminded, trying to talk me off the ledge as well.
“That weknowof,” I snapped, while the voice in my head hysterically screamed,Run! Run!
My fight-or-flight reflex kicked in with a vengeance. Unable to fight assumptions I couldn’t see, I bolted out of my chair, sending it crashing to the floor. I had no clue where I was going, only that I had to run and hide. But as I turned to race up the stairs and gather my things, Grant launched from the table and cupped his strong fingers around my arm.
