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There’s no way someone has seen us or Giana come and go.
And even if there was someone, they couldn’t be on the street.
Grayson’s people control the area.
We now know no one coming from the street has entered the house.
I crane my neck and lean back, peering through the open door and the kitchen windows. The backyard is relatively small, and the next house is only a few yards away.
Is it a neighbor?
That would be crazy as hell.
Someone who has access to the neighbor’s house?
That’s even crazier.
Whoever that person is, they believe in the same theory that crimes and accidents don’t happen in clusters without a reason.
And we have something in common.
We are both after my father.
That is strange as fuck.
“I have to check,” I say resolutely, grabbing the baseball bat.
“Please don’t do it.”
She almost has a meltdown, and I’m a little flattered by her concern for me.
This would be cute if her voice weren’t so loud.
“Stay quiet, or I’ll need to end the call,” I say under my breath, looking at my phone screen.
Her eyes go wide.
She’s sunk in the tub, her hair wet at the tips, and a glass of wine sits on the bathtub's edge. “I can’t wait to get there and fuck you,” I say, smiling, for one to de-tense her and then to see her reaction.
She takes her face in her hands, shaking her head.
“You’re killing me,” she says quietly when she removes her hands from her cheeks.
They are crimson with a blush.
“Stay with me, all right?”
“Okay.”
She goes quiet again, and I lower my hand so she can have a visual of the stairs.
I hear that noise again, and I’m fairly certain it doesn’t belong to a physical presence in the house.
It sounds like an open widow slamming into the wall.
Oh… The attic.
“The second floor looks okay,” I say, checking her bedroom and the bathroom.
