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22
Greyson
“It’s about twenty minutes down the coast.”
“Sounds awesome,” replies Kennedy to Gideon as they make plans to free-dive around some cove at the weekend.
“I’ll join you,” I say, and as expected, Gideon whips his head to look at me from the passenger seat.
“I thought you weren’t sure if you’d still be here by the weekend...”
I don’t answer, glancing at him instead to find a knowing smirk on his face.
I keep my hands tight on the steering wheel as I drive us to a seafood restaurant from the state park we’ve just visited, just waiting for the questions to start.
As I steer us through a canopy of live oaks, their branches intertwining to form a tent of foliage above us, Kennedy’s hand hits the top of my chair from the back seat, his fingers skimming my shoulder.
“Um, any particular reason for the vacation extension, Grey? Enjoying the dune bugs? The sand gnats?”
“Or the live oaks, maybe?” suggests Gideon wryly.
I don’t bother giving some facile explanation when these two assholes know full well what has consumed me of late… although since the events of yesterday, working this girl out of my system may not be as simple as I’d hoped.
“Just realized I really need a vacation, boys,” I reply, not expecting either of them to buy it.
In truth, my need to stay is constant, plaguing me, making the thought of leaving her intolerable, a fact which irritates the living hell out of me. While my team can cover for me and I can work just as well from here as from back in DC, I’m still disquieted by the depth of the concern I feel for a woman I barely know. I’ve dated women for over a year and not felt anywhere near as protective of them as this. Something about her taps into a part of me I believed I’d hammered over with steel plates a long time ago… and I don’t know if it’s something I can face again. Or if I want to…
My conversation with the district attorney didn’t help this morning. Apparently, this Micah Korhonen has a history with women—stalking and harassment, in particular. Several complaints have been made by different women, but after some time, each one has refused to press charges. His family is fairly wealthy and I know a little of the legal firm they use, none of it good. When she said his name, I flinched. I had my assistant check to see if his family was on the client list of our family but there’s no sign of them… but then, there are those clients, the ones my father and his little team of sociopaths, whose secrets are so heinous that their names never appear in any file…
In any case, I know this is not a man who should be on the street, and I intend to do whatever it takes to make sure he stays behind bars for as long as humanly possible.
When I called Indigo to talk about her situation, she didn’t answer, instead texting me to say that she was sorry she’d involved me and that she just wanted to move on. From what I heard of that phone call with him, she’s clearly in denial about the likelihood of his fixation on her ending.
She’s different from the women I normally deal with. She’s impulsive and illogical and stubborn as all hell. My urge to get her into line fights with this sudden and most unwanted need to protect her, a need which makes me feel weak, exposed, which throws me off balance.
“Since when does Greyson Everitt take vacations?” jests Kennedy from behind, his playful tone so irritating that it’s bordering on amusing.
I pull out of the thicket onto a main road parallel to the coast.
“And all it took is one strategically placed hippy for him to take some time off,” adds Gideon as my hands tense on the wheel.
I throw him aWatch yourself,assholelook, my body instantly rigid in irritation. He pats me on the arm, eliciting a half-playful “Go fuck yourself” in response which makes him guffaw in laughter.
“Seriously, what’s the plan with her?” he asks.
“The plan…”
I repeat his tedious words, realizing that any vague semblance of plan has now gone out the window, including the plan to make her beg and plead for me, on her knees, mouth open, hands bound firmly. I’ve wanted to teach the insolent little brat a lesson in manners since the first minute I set eyes on her last year.
That will now have to wait until I figure out how to deal with the dead man walking harassing her, and ensure that the highly deviant things I would like to do to her don’t leave her damaged.
Why do you even care?
Those words hit me for the fifth time today, wondering if I should go back to thoroughly enjoying my empty life as an emotionless prick.
I’ll just make a few calls, I decide bitterly. See if I can’t get the DA to press harder for a plea deal that will keep him off the streets for a few years. He told me that if several of his exes decide to press charges, they can do something about him, but until then, nothing. I may just have to speak to one or two of them…
As I contemplate giving Gideon some trite answer just to shut him up, I see the rental car that has been parked outside their house pull out of a small lane that leads to a yoga studio, and turn onto our road about fifty feet ahead of us, going in the opposite direction back in the direction of the rental house.
