“What?” I wanted to argue. Wanted to ask again what he’d said, who the man was, how he’d found me so fast. But the look on Garrett’s face killed every question on my tongue.
“We’re leaving London. Tonight.”
Chapter 14
Galahad
“Pack your things.”I shoved the suite door closed and crossed to the sitting area to grab my bag. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”
“No, wait.” Grace stood near the entryway, her face pale despite our half-run back to the hotel. “What did he say to you? What happened?”
“Later.” I pulled open the closet, yanking clothes from hangers without folding them. “Pack first.”
“But—”
“Grace.” I stopped, turned, and made myself stand still long enough to look at her. The fear in her eyes lodged deep in my chest, but I shoved it down. Fear was appropriate, and I had let her sit in that. Fear would make her listen to me and keep her in one piece. “I need you to trust me right now. Can you do that?”
She hesitated, blinking rapidly, then nodded.
“Good. Now pack. Fast.”
She moved toward the bedroom and pulled her suitcase onto the bed.
I forced my attention to my own packing. Clothes, toiletries, and I’d grab the egg last, right before we walked out. “Tell me everything. From the moment you left the hotel.”
“I…” She opened a drawer and started pulling out clothes. “I was standing at the window, and I just... I wanted to see something. Anything. You were going to be gone for two hours, and the whole city was right there, and I thought?—”
“Where did you go?”
“The Gherkin. The tall pickle-shaped building? It’s close. I used the map on my phone, and it was only a ten-minute walk, and I figured I’d go and come back, and, well… We were going to the Tower of London when you got back anyway, so I thought…” She was spiraling. Maybe too much fear.
“Grace.” I leaned back to look around the partial wall at her. “Focus. What happened after you left?”
“Right. Sorry.” She shoved a shirt into her suitcase. “I walked toward it. The streets were busy, lots of people. I was admiring the buildings, taking it in, and when I got to the Gherkin, I took a selfie, and I noticed…” She paused. “I saw him a couple of times. The man. I kept telling myself it was a coincidence because I didn’t see his face, but he was always there.”
“How many times?”
“Three? Four? He was behind me when I left the market, and?—”
“Back up and tell me every time you saw him. Start from the first.”
She stopped packing, her hands stilling on a sweater she’d been stuffing into a corner of her suitcase. “The first time was when he bumped into me.”
My whole body went still. “He bumped into you?”
“Near the beginning. Right after I left the hotel. He came from the other direction and hit my shoulder. Didn’t even apologize, just kept walking.” She touched her right shoulder. “I thought he was just rude.”
“Which side was your purse on?”
Her hand moved to her right hip, where her crossbody bag hung. “Right side. Why?”
I was across the room before she finished the question. “Give me your bag.”
“What?”
“Your purse. Now.”
She unlooped the strap and handed it over.
