“Would’ve been pretty hard for you to pull off,” Grayson said, “considering I found your old gloves still in my glove box.”
“Myglove box, asshole, and maybe it was an older pair.”
“Says the empath still drivingmytruck, and you don’t have any older pairs. You upcycled them all,” Grayson said. “Who’s framing you?”
“None of your business.”
“Do you even know?”
“Also none of your business.”
“Reece—”
“We will handle it ourselves.”
“The hell I’m gonna let you,” Grayson said. “You think I want you and Alex and Ms. Falconhandlinganything? How many bodies is that gonna mean?”
“Sorry,sugar,” Reece said with deep sarcasm, “but we don’t need your permission.”
“Reece, your sister and I don’t know who’s framing y’all or why,” Grayson said. “Maybe they’re trying to rattle you out of hiding. Maybe they’re trying to start a war and Seattle’s gonna get caught in the middle. Or maybe they just want to get their hands on all you empaths.”
“Mmm, yes, and that’ssodifferent from what the Dead Man and his handcuffs want.”
“Oh, I want to bring you in too,” Grayson said honestly. “But I’m not gonna run who knows what kind of experiments. I just want to make sure innocent people are safe.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Not running experiments, just protecting the innocents by locking up the empaths?” Reece said darkly. “Remind me: How well did Polaris work out for the empaths you took there?”
“Reece—”
But Reece had hung up.
Grayson looked up at the ceiling. That had been a fair point. He had tried to take care of the corrupted empaths, only to unknowingly send them to a terrible fate.
He looked back at the phone. Their text chain was still open, with last night’s picture of Reece in the bear hat, flipping Grayson off with the Great Wheel in the background.
Dangerous as hell now, it was true. But still so fucking cute.
And also an innocent victim, in his own way, just like Alex and Cora.
But just because someone had been innocent once upon a time didn’t mean they stayed that way—and it didn’t mean they could ever come back. Bad things happened to good people—irreversiblebad things. It was one of those unfortunate truths that made life so unfair.
Except someone is framing Reece now, whispered a little voice in Grayson’s head,and maybe he does need your help.
His eyes went to Reece’s picture again, lingering.
Finally, he sent two more texts and then got up to make coffee.
Grayson:You can hang up on me all you want: won’t change that someone’s framing you and I’m gonna do something about that.
Grayson:And I don’t need YOUR permission.
Grayson’s safe house was in a small cove on Salt Spring Island, with a big back deck and a short backyard down to a wooden dock that jutted out over the waters of the channel. The morning was cold, the air crisp and damp with rain as Jamey stood on the deck in her coat and hat, the phone in her ear ringing uselessly until it finally went to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Gretel Macy ofEyes on Empaths, the number one empathy awareness blog in the Pacific Northwest—”
Jamey waited for the message to finish and the telltale beep. “Hey, it’s Briony St. James. I think you know me from when I used to be a detective with the Seattle police. I got your number from Liam.” She looked up at the cloudy sky and tried to find the words. “Gretel, I am so sorry about your parents. I know you might not want to talk, but if you could just text me, I’d appreciate it. I’m worried about your safety. I’m worried about you. I want to help. Just—get in touch.Please.”
She hung up. Jesus, this was awful. It had always been gut-wrenching to talk to the victims’ families, and Jamey knew all too well what it was like to find yourself without parents too young. And with the secrecy around empaths, what had Gretel even been told about her parents’ murder? Would she even be able to bury them?
