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“Greyson,” I said in a panicked voice. “What was that? He looked—he looked like something was wrong with him!”
“That was called an inconvenience,” Greyson answered, saluting Carter before he typed something into his phone. “A big inconvenience.”
“He didn’t ditch me, did he?” I said softly.
“No, he didn’t, Kennedy.” I’d never seen a man look as satisfied as Greyson did at that moment.
“And where are you taking me?” I asked, bracing myself for him to tell me this was where I died or something like that.
“Home,” he answered simply as the locks on the doors engaged around us.
And somehow, it was very clear to me that that the “home” Greyson was referring to, was not my home.
I was pretty sure he was kidnapping me.
15
After two attempts at trying the doors, I gave up. Apparently I was the easiest person to kidnap in the history of kidnapping.
Greyson sat there calmly in his seat the whole time, watching me avidly, a psychotic—yet hot—smile on his face, like he was watching a cute bunny and found the whole thing adorable.
Psychopath.
“If you’re taking me somewhere to kill me, I warn you, you’re not going to get much satisfaction out of it,” I told him at one point when we’d turned into a neighborhood loaded with mega mansions tucked away behind large iron gates. “I literally have one friend. And she’ll probably think the whole thing is very exciting and won’t even cry because she’s weird like that.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why would I kill the person that means the most to me in the world?” Greyson asked the question as if that should be obvious.
I gaped at him.
“Why did you do all of that? You—you hurt me,” I snapped, determined to ignore his “means the most to me” comment. Because I didn’t know what to do with that.
It was also fucked up because other than being mildly terrified about what he had waiting for me at the end of this drive—I was actually feeling a lot better.
Because Carter hadn’t ditched me to go fuck someone in the bathroom during our date.
I still doubted I’d be wanting to go back to that restaurant any time soon—you know, if Greyson let me live.
“I don’t like when you go on dates with other men, Kennedy,” he said with a sigh, folding his arms and settling back into the seat with a frown on his face.
I was not distracted by the way his suit pulled against his muscles. Not distracted at all.
“You were jealous I was on a date…so you showed up, did something to Carter, and then lied to me so you could get me away from the date.”
“Carter has a head like a rock. He’ll be fine.”
“Oh my gosh! You knocked him out?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, he wouldn’t have exactly let me walk you out of there willingly, now would he?” Greyson’s gaze drifted to the window and he straightened.
“Home sweet home.”
I had so much more to say to him. But then I was distracted by the sprawling mansion rising up in front of us.
Maybe mansion wasn’t the right word. Maybe castle was more accurate.
It was enormous.
“This is your house?” I whispered, staring at it in shock. I’d thought Carter, Jack, and Sebastian’s penthouse was beyond impressive. But this was something else.
