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“I’m sure that will go very well for you.”
“What’s the alternative? Are you trying to tell me you have a better way?” I look him up and down, snickering when he falls in step beside me.
His eyes narrow to slits. “I’m telling you, I can sell it better than you can. You’ve got that whole concerned dad thing going on, and it’s not working at a time like this.”
Again with the dad bullshit. “Your shtick is getting old.”
“It’s not shtick if it’s the truth, which it is.” His jaw tightens when our eyes meet, and I know I’m backed into a corner before he opens his mouth. “I can call him and give an excuse he’ll buy, or I can go to him and tell him you’re visiting these locations so he can have you tracked. Either or. It’s up to you.”
“What do you get out of this?”
“It matters to me that she’s brought back safe.”
“And you don’t trust me to make sure that happens?”
I know he wants to make another old man joke. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Something stops him, and he clears his throat. “It has nothing to do with trust. But… I know her. And on the off chance she’s truly fucked in the head thanks to whatever Beverly planted in her brain. It might be smarter to have me there than to have me stay here. I might be able to get through to her.”
A strange heat blooms in my chest. What is he implying? Are they closer than I suspected? He wouldn’t do anything as stupid as that, would he? He has to know Mason would flip his shit.
Though Natalie is a grown woman with a mind of her own. A mind I happen to be fascinated by.
“Fine. Call him but make it quick. Don’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know.”
“I sure am glad you’re here to tell me what to do. Maybe you can help me wipe my ass later. I’ve been having some difficulty with it.” The arrogant little prick sets my teeth on edge, but I brush off the irritation in favor of climbing into my truck while he places the call.
“No, it’s just a possible location,” Griffin insists as he joins me. “It makes a lot more sense for us to go and check it out than for you to possibly waste time. You’ve got other shit going on, God knows. Let us handle this.”
He puts Mason on speaker so I can hear him growl loud enough for the sound to fill the cab. “I want updates. Regular ones.”
“You’ve got it,” Griffin promises.
“And if you find her…” He goes silent for a moment, and I can practically feel his conflicting emotions. “Just bring her back, okay? We’ll deal with what happens after that when the time comes.”
Griffin promises we will before ending the call and turning to me, wearing a smirk while I start the truck’s engine. “See? Piece of cake.”
“Pardon me if I don’t applaud.” Still, I can at least admit to myself that he handled the situation efficiently.
Now, if I could only put a finger on why it seems to matter so damn much that he comes along with me. They didn’t have anything going on between them, did they? I would’ve seen it, for sure.
But would I have? It isn’t like I spend all my time at the hotel—the way they do. They are together all the time. They’re both young, both healthy, normal people. It wouldn’t be too far a stretch for them to fumble their way into a physical situation.
And here I am, old enough to be her father. The gray running through my hair and the lines at the corners of my eyes catch my attention in my reflection when I check out the rearview mirror. It’s not Griffin’s fault he’s closer to her age than I am.
I can’t hold that against him any more than I can hold her poor taste against
her—a smart girl like her could do a hell of a lot better.
She could also do a hell of a lot better than me.
“You’re sure about this?” Griffin looks behind us, side to side, before staring at the structure indicated by the coordinates Natalie provided.
I see why he’s got his doubts. The cute little craftsman set far back behind a neatly trimmed lawn looks nearly identical to the homes up and down the block. “She’d want to blend in.”
He snorts, then side-eyes me. “Who are you talking about? Beverly or Natalie?”
That’s the thing. I don’t know.
By the time night falls, we’ve sat and watched the house for more than an hour. The absence of a vehicle in the driveway doesn’t mean anything. Someone could be lying in wait.
Yet even though I’ve stared at the windows and the curtains behind them until my eyes begin to burn, there hasn’t been a shift of the thin, white fabric to tell me someone moved behind it.
