Jaden (Jaded #3)

Then I heard him, his voice hoarse. “You should check on Bryce. He needs you tonight.” And his door shut.

His rejection hit me. When his door shut, the sound was like an extra nail to my coffin. I opened my mouth, but there were no words. What the hell was I doing? I glanced at Bryce’s door, then I slipped from my room and knocked on it softly.

Looking at the bottom of the door, there was no light shining from inside, and I didn’t hear him answer me. I opened the door anyway.

He still didn’t call to me, but I could see the silhouette of his body in the bed. He was sitting on the edge with his hands braced on his knees, leaning forward. “Bryce?” I entered the room, calling to him.

“She’s missing, Sheldon.”

I frowned, feeling a nervousness in my gut. “Maria?” The assistant?

“Guadalupe. She’s missing.”

Shutting the door, I left the light off and crossed to his bed. I stood in front of him, unsure what to do at that moment. “Do they think something happened to her?”

“Or she’s running.” He lifted haunted eyes to me. I could see the whites of them from the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

“Running?”

“There were messages on Maria’s phone to Guadalupe. They talk about hurting you. There’s even one that mentioned hurting someone and making it look like you did it.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t actually thought . . . “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I’m so sorry, Sheldon.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s because of me. I saw the messages earlier today, and I was going to show them to you, but we got busy with the masquerade ball. You seemed intent on going so I figured tonight or tomorrow, then the cops asked to see me, and they were asking all these questions. I gave them the phone. I showed them the messages. I’m hoping it’ll help. I mean, my god, Sheldon. Then there’s another suspect. You could get that ankle monitor off.”

I didn’t know what to say. Guadalupe? Her assistant? I knew they hated me, but to frame me? To kill Grace over it? A surge of anger rose up in me. My fingers curled inward, forming fists. The desire to find them, to hurt them back, was growing stronger and stronger.

“Sheldon?”

“They hurt Grace? So she could be with you?”

“I’m sorry, Sheldon.”

I left. I didn’t know what to think and finding this out—that was the reason Grace was dead—I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Tearing through the door, I stalked into the hallway, but stopped suddenly.

Corrigan was there. He was waiting outside my door.

“Sheldon?” Bryce followed me. He stopped too, seeing Corrigan there. He said, “Let me talk to her.”

“No.” Corrigan shook his head as a somber look came over his features. “I sent her in there, but she came out.” He opened my door and stepped inside. “I’m done with being nice and holding back.”

His eyes met mine. I saw the stark hunger in him, and I gasped, feeling it in me, too. I didn’t think. I just went to him.

“Sheldon!” Bryce grabbed my arm.

I stopped in my doorway and turned to face him. I saw the agony there, how he wanted to reason with me, but I shook my head.

She was between us. She always would be.

“Sheldon,” he murmured again, softening his voice. “Please. I’m just starting to get you back. Please.”

There it was. Right there. Pain sliced through me as I said, “Maybe you were right before. Maybe what we did to Marcus put a block between us. Maybe I didn’t want to think about killing him and that meant pushing you away because you did it with me. Maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t undo that. I can’t go back. I . . .” I knew. “I choose Corrigan.”

“Sheldon!” His eyes widened. Desperation filled them. “Please.”

“I shouldn’t have to try to force myself to feel a certain way, and right now, I want to be with him.”

“Sheldon,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was wrong. I knew the second I shut that door, but I pressed my hand against it, and I stayed there, needing it for strength. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything was going crazy inside me, but this—choosing and saying the words—this was the craziest thing.

“Sheldon.” Corrigan sounded so timid behind me. He was uncertain.

I swung around and shook my head. “I lied to him.”

“What?” He went still.

“I lied. I’m sorry, but I did.”

“Why did you—”

I thrust an arm out, pointing in the direction of where Bryce had gone. “It’s because of him. All of this is because of him. She did it. That Maria person. There’s a text saying something about just this thing, about hurting someone and making it look like it was me. They did it.” My chest was heaving. “Because of him. So that he would stay with her, and I would go away.”

“Are you kidding? That’s what he said?”

“It’s because of him.” But even as I said that, I bit my tongue. That wasn’t true either.

Corrigan echoed my sentiments when he bit out, “That reasoning is bullshit. This is bullshit. What the fuck, Sheldon? Get your head on right—”