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“As far away from that bastard as possible.”
“Hunter…” she breathed, and closed her eyes. I took her small hand in mine. He’d gotten so close to her. Too close, and it was my fault. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if I lost her.
She drifted off to sleep within minutes.
A day later, Grace was discharged from the hospital. I drove her from there straight to the airport.
“Is this really necessary?” she asked.
“Yes. I wish you could remember being drugged. Maybe you’d take it more seriously.”
“Iamtaking it seriously. It’s just hard to believe what you’re saying. Why would I follow him to Carly’s?”
“He got himself hired as Carly’s gardener, drugged you, and lured you inside her house. He slipped GHB in your lemonade. Look, it doesn’t matter why you went, but you did, which means I need to keep a better eye on you, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
I parked my Bugatti on the tarmac near my jet.
“Where are we going?”
“Costa Rica.”
* * *
The path ahead narrowed.We’d taken a double scooter from the airport, and Grace could barely keep her eyes open. The flight might have been exhausting, but it wasn’t until I showed her a picture of Chad Hartley while we crossed the sky ten thousand feet in the air that awareness set in. She knew him from somewhere before, but she couldn’t remember. Scar said the bastard had been stalking her for weeks. My mistake nearly cost her life. I should have shown her a picture long ago.
She clung to me like a monkey from the back, her arms wrapped around my torso and her front glued to my spine. Night had set in just as we arrived, covering the ground with darkness. I’d have to wait until tomorrow to show Grace the rainforest. She gripped her fingers around my arm.
“You live in a jungle?” she asked.
“It’s a rainforest, and I live in an eco-house.” I took her hand and pushed through the overgrown foliage. Mateo hadn’t cut it since I left, but I wasn’t supposed to return so soon. A week away from home made this place unrecognizable. “It must have rained, because everything grew.”
“Is that how you grew? Guzzling rainforest water?”
“No.” I choked out a laugh. “I believe it was the food.”
We stopped by the tree trunk, a web of roots braided and tied into pretzels, all invisible in the night.
“Okay, Grace. You’re gonna have to let me go, and you’ll have to trust me.”
“I don’t like this. I can’t see anything.”
“I’ll fix that in a moment, but for now, just trust me, okay? My home is up in a tree.”
“I thought you were kidding.”
“I wasn’t. There’s a rope and pulley system. I’ll drop a ladder in the morning so it will be easier. Come on—step this way.” I guided her to the twelve-inch platform. “There’s a rope in the middle. Hug the rope between your feet and hold on. I’ll let you know when to step off.”
I set her onto the plank and made sure she was holding the knot in the rope before I pulled. The platform wobbled as it rose.
“Oh, my God! Hunter! Hunter!”
“It’s okay. Five more, four”—I pulled on the rope with each count—“three, two, one. Step off. Doesn’t matter in which direction, but make sure the step is wide.”
A moment later, she called out. “Got it.”
I yanked the pulley, bringing down the platform, and used the same rope to climb up the tree house. I lit a few candles, then the oil lantern, and got the generator going. Grace stood in the middle of the room, watching me.
