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But this was just the start.I resolved to watch Evie’s social life, determined to prevent her from experiencing happiness.Not after she had destroyed our family.She would pay.I just had to watch Hanford and Jet closely.
ChapterSixteen
Sanford
Now...
“Is this a letter to the fucking universe, asking for forgiveness?”Greyson asks, his voice in a hardened tone, his jawline tense.
“I told you it was fucking Enya,” I reply, unable to tear my eyes away from the damning words inscribed on the book’s pages.Chapter after chapter, they reveal a story of deliberate cruelty toward our delicate ballerina.
While I understand that her mother’s indifference inflicted a deep wound on Enya’s psyche, the extent to which she tormented our ballerina is unfathomable.
The universe may choose to offer her redemption, but as for me, I’ll always blame her for destroying the people I love.
Greyson rises from the table, stretching his muscular body.An undercurrent of desire pulses within me, tempting me to abandon the book and fuck him to distract us.However, we have something more urgent to do—analyze what was written and who did it.I should retrieve a shirt for him from my room.
“Why don’t we expedite the process?We could get the audiobook and play it at twice the speed,” I suggest, attempting to lighten the mood, just as he bitterly says, “So that’s when the fucking bitch began stalking us, huh?”
I give him a surprised look.Despite everything, I wouldn’t categorize Enya with such a harsh term.I have witnessed the relentless obsession of actual stalkers, and she doesn’t quite fit that profile.“That might be a bit harsh, Grey.I wouldn’t label her as one.”
His piercing gaze challenges me.“Do you need a reminder of the hell she put us through?”
I glance between the book and Greyson before I shake my head.I stand up, gathering our empty mugs.“More coffee?”
“Water or tea would be great,” he responds, reclaiming the book.“Do you really think it’s Enya?Something doesn’t feel right.”
“What makes you doubt it’s her?”I counter.
“It just doesn’t feel like Enya’s voice,” Greyson responds, searching through cupboards until he finds a glass.“There’s a certain sweetness hidden within the lines that ...it’s different from who she used to be.”
I hate to justify her reasoning, but ...“People change after experiencing tragedies,” I mutter.“I’ve seen it happen many times.”
“Maybe we should try to find her,” he suggests, his lips pressing together in thought.“Or whoever wrote this.Did you ever try to find out what happened to them?”
“I tried,” I confess, my voice barely audible.“My boss always warned me that hacking into the WITSEC database is like breaking into Fort Knox.Plus, we couldn’t and shouldn’t contact her.”
He runs his hand through his hair.“I heard the father and his daughters died.But I want to know what happened between their rescue and their deaths.”
The news doesn’t surprise me, but his tone does.He’s not surprised that she is gone.My heart struggles to process the news.Even the WITSEC couldn’t protect her.I attempted to convince Mason Bradley to let me search for her.
I begged him multiple times to help me rescue her, but he insisted we couldn’t interfere with a government program.He assured me she was safe and didn’t need rescue.Well, I suppose whoever was left found them and got rid of them.It can be that easy, can it?
I raise an eyebrow.“Where did you get that information?”
“Finnegan,” he mutters.“He did some basic investigation but stopped when he discovered their deaths.Piper told him to let it go, that I didn’t need to know the cause.”
That’s impossible.I just spoke with Finnegan ...Was it two days ago?I can’t recall, but he said he wouldn’t look into it any further.“How long ago was that?”
He shrugs.“Probably around twenty minutes before I found you hanging around the Black Out parking lot.”
So about twenty hours after my initial call to Finn.“Do you think Finnegan can dig deeper into the WITSEC program?”
“He won’t be available until Monday or Tuesday,” he informs me.“He’s busy with the Jelly-bug.”
A grin spreads across my face at the familial nicknames his parents have always had for some of their family members.“I’ll never understand your family’s obsession with bugs.Your mother is a butterfly, Piper is a ladybug, Winter ...It’s just weird.”
He grins back, his eyes twinkling with warmth.“You’d have to know Mom’s story to understand the root of those names.She published her biography around the time Piper was born.”
