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I kept it there, holding it out between us.
He continued to look at it.
My heart was pounding, louder and louder in my eardrums. I wanted him to take it. I needed him to take it.
Then I heard him, his voice hoarse. “You should check on Bryce. He needs you tonight.” And his door shut.
His rejection hit me. When his door shut, the sound was like an extra nail to my coffin. I opened my mouth, but there were no words. What the hell was I doing? I glanced at Bryce’s door, then I slipped from my room and kn
ocked on it softly.
Looking at the bottom of the door, there was no light shining from inside, and I didn’t hear him answer me. I opened the door anyway.
He still didn’t call to me, but I could see the silhouette of his body in the bed. He was sitting on the edge with his hands braced on his knees, leaning forward. “Bryce?” I entered the room, calling to him.
“She’s missing, Sheldon.”
I frowned, feeling a nervousness in my gut. “Maria?” The assistant?
“Guadalupe. She’s missing.”
Shutting the door, I left the light off and crossed to his bed. I stood in front of him, unsure what to do at that moment. “Do they think something happened to her?”
“Or she’s running.” He lifted haunted eyes to me. I could see the whites of them from the moonlight streaming in through the windows.
“Running?”
“There were messages on Maria’s phone to Guadalupe. They talk about hurting you. There’s even one that mentioned hurting someone and making it look like you did it.”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t actually thought . . . “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m so sorry, Sheldon.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s because of me. I saw the messages earlier today, and I was going to show them to you, but we got busy with the masquerade ball. You seemed intent on going so I figured tonight or tomorrow, then the cops asked to see me, and they were asking all these questions. I gave them the phone. I showed them the messages. I’m hoping it’ll help. I mean, my god, Sheldon. Then there’s another suspect. You could get that ankle monitor off.”
I didn’t know what to say. Guadalupe? Her assistant? I knew they hated me, but to frame me? To kill Grace over it? A surge of anger rose up in me. My fingers curled inward, forming fists. The desire to find them, to hurt them back, was growing stronger and stronger.
“Sheldon?”
“They hurt Grace? So she could be with you?”
“I’m sorry, Sheldon.”
I left. I didn’t know what to think and finding this out—that was the reason Grace was dead—I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Tearing through the door, I stalked into the hallway, but stopped suddenly.
Corrigan was there. He was waiting outside my door.
“Sheldon?” Bryce followed me. He stopped too, seeing Corrigan there. He said, “Let me talk to her.”
“No.” Corrigan shook his head as a somber look came over his features. “I sent her in there, but she came out.” He opened my door and stepped inside. “I’m done with being nice and holding back.”
His eyes met mine. I saw the stark hunger in him, and I gasped, feeling it in me, too. I didn’t think. I just went to him.
“Sheldon!” Bryce grabbed my arm.
I stopped in my doorway and turned to face him. I saw the agony there, how he wanted to reason with me, but I shook my head.
