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“Of course, I do.My uncle owns the company.You’ll be surprised if you learn who’s a part of it.”
“You can tell me.”
A soft chuckle slips from his lips, a subtle defiance sparking in his eyes.“I’d rather not.”Grey’s gaze, an unsettling shade of forest green, shifts toward the building.“So, how the fuck do I get out of here?”
“What does that mean?”I groan because he’s making my job a thousand times harder than it should be.“You can’t just walk away.”
“But I can’t stay either,” he answers, a stubborn edge lingering in his tone.“Actually, we are leaving New York.”
I arch an eyebrow, unamused.“I don’t think so.”
Grey’s demeanor softens.“Aerin, I need to get to my therapist.If I came here, it was because he said that if things got too overwhelming, I should check myself in.But I’d rather leave.”
“So, you came here voluntarily?”I confirm.“Lang didn’t force you to do it?”
He gives me a curt nod.“Lang?Ugh, of course he had me followed, asshole.”He releases another bitter chuckle.“I’m broken but trying not to fuck up so much that’ll cause pain to my family.”
A sigh escapes me.“Then you can leave the facility.I’ll confirm that you don’t meet the criteria for involuntary hospitalization.You have the right to make a decision about your mental health care.”
He runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends.“Do you have a phone so I can call San?”
I hand it over to him.
Aerin:This is Grey, using Ae’s phone.We need to head back home.
San:You have to stay in Brooklyn.
Aerin:No, we don’t.We’ll go to Malibu, not Seattle.If it makes you feel better, you can send dozens of clowns to watch over her.
San:Lang will have everything ready.I should be leaving soon.Please take care of each other.
Their conversation ends, leaving behind a silence that stretches thin between us.“What’s in Malibu?”I curiously ask.
He winks at me.“You’ll see, Aerin.You’ll see.”
ChapterTen
Sanford
While Lang helpsme with the logistics of getting Aerin and Grey safely to Malibu, I call Mason Bradley.During my conversation with Aerin, there were a lot of things that made a lot of noise.I have the feeling that he has the answers.
“Have you scheduled a session with your therapist?”Mason’s voice, rough with concern, fills my ear instead of a regular greeting.
If I didn’t know better, I might misconstrue his blunt approach as coldness.But I understand, this is Mason’s unique way of expressing his care and love, almost fatherly in its intensity.
“The video call is in fifteen minutes,” I respond, the note of annoyance in my voice swiftly swept away by urgency.“But that’s not what I need to talk about.”
“What’s going on?”he asks.
I relay my earlier conversation with Aerin to him.“Why was Aerin kept in the hospital for so long?Someone separated her from the Carltons and gave her a different identity.”
“Does it matter?”Mason’s frustration resonates in his question.
“Yes, it does,” I respond, my voice is steadier than I feel.
His sigh crackles down the line, a soft murmur of resignation.I’m well aware that Mason hates being questioned.After all, he’s the boss.“We knew that it was Aerin’s sister who had kidnapped her.The FBI, however, refused to listen to me.They needed to learn everything that Enya knew.So we made a deal.They allowed us to keep an eye on Aerin, adding an extra layer of protection, but we had to agree to not intervene in their case.”
He launches into further explanation about how they had provided Aerin with all sorts of therapists.The counselor assigned to Enya was an undercover DEA agent.They were trying to get a confession out of her, but she never spoke.
