Page 68 of Shadowed With Fear

“I know. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He pulls back, pushing all my hair from my face inspecting me.

“I’m okay. I swear. But next time, either I need to know where your knife is, or I gotta get my own.” I shake my head. “Seriously, dude, do you ever fucking clean.”

It’s now that I realize how wrecked his room is. I wouldn’t have been able to find shit if I wanted to.

He smirks down at me with a shrug. “I think we should get you your own. We’ll talk about it later. Grays,” he turns to Grayson who is peering out the window, “Get her to your place. Me and Alex are gonna look around, but we’ll be right behind you.

“D,” he looks back down at me, a smile full of relief, “Grab whatever you need for a few days. You’re staying with him until I know it’s safe for you to be here. Fucker got through the alarms and didn’t trigger the cameras.”

I blanch. He didn’t trigger the alarms or the cameras. I have to stay with Grayson.

“I— “

“I don’t want to hear it right now. Get your shit.”

So, I do. I grab a bag and stuff a bunch of random clothes in a hamper inside it and my backpack.

Grayson is waiting for me by the front door, his hands stuffed into his sweatpants. I notice he doesn’t have his jacket.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” I tilted my head looking at him in the dark blue long sleeve with Wood Ridge’s logo.

He scratches the back of his head, finger tucked into his dark curls. “I didn’t really have time to find it.”

My face heats. “Oh.”

He shrugs, nodding to the door, opening it for me. “Still got your helmet?”

“It’s in the garage.”

“Here,” he grabs the bags from me walking to Brahm’s car. “Go get it. You’ll need it for a couple days.”

It’s been years since I’d rode his bike, and the idea has all the bullshit of the day slowly melting away. The rush of riding on it is unlike anything else. Except maybe anything to do with Shadow. I blush thinking of him before my mood sours.

He hasn’t messaged me today. I didn’t see him outside. And then that guy shows up. I still don’t know if he has anything to do with all of this.

For some reason though thinking that he could, not only makes me angry at myself for thinking that, but sick. So sick. I need to see him soon. I just hope wherever he is he knows I’ll not be home.

Helmet in hand, I walk back to the bike, and carefully climb onto the back seat.

“Good?” Grayson gives me a pointed look before his finger hooks the chin strap, tracing it, and my jaw. I swallow.

“Good.”

He nods, swinging his leg over, careful not to hit me.

“Hold on.” My arms go to his waist as the bike purrs to life.

“Dahlia, you need to hold on.” Grayson’s voice is stern.

“I am, asshole.” We lurch forward quickly, I suck in a breath, hands tightening around his waist, falling against his back.

Grayson’s chuckle is warm spreading through my chilled limbs.

“I told you.” He keeps laughing and to my surprise I join him.

My hand smacks his shoulder, and still giggling I say, “Let’s fucking go. I wanna scream.”

He peers over his shoulder, a dark look in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine and an ache between my thighs, and we’re off.