Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

“What happened?” I ask gently.

Henry rubs the bridge of his nose. “They’re getting Audrey’s house ready to sell and the real estate agent came by yesterday with an offer, even though it’s not listed yet. Violet took issue with it and stormed off to her room. When Gayle went to check on her last night, she was gone. Crawled out the window. They called her friends, and she didn’t go there.”

“What about her old house?”

He shakes his head. “She’s not answering her phone either.”

“That kid …” I snuck out of the house a handful of times, but it was to meet Jed at midnight to swim in the pond between our properties and I was always back within half an hour.

“They thought maybe she came here. But considering how we left things, I can’t see why she would.”

Unless she came to New York and is working up the nerve to face her father again. Especially after how they left things. A thought strikes me. “When she came to Manhattan last time, she hung out at a diner that she and Audrey had been to in the past. I’ll bet she’d go there.”

“A diner.” He gives me a flat look. “This is New York City, Abbi. Not Greenbank, where there’s one diner and it’s owned by your aunt.”

“She said it was near the train station, and I remember the logo on the coffee cup she was carrying. It had a monster on it. Howard did say she loves New York, and we already know she’s not afraid to come here alone. If I were a confused and angry fifteen-year-old girl, I’d go somewhere that makes me happy and that I’m familiar with while I figured out what to do next.”

He hangs his head, pushing his hands through his hair, sending it into further disarray. “A diner with a monster on its logo?”

“Yeah. It was red and blue. Cute. It wouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Henry bites his bottom lip in thought. “You feel like going for a walk?”

Five minutes ago, I planned on staying under these blankets. But for Henry? I press a kiss against his shoulder. “Yes.”





My hands are turning red as I grip the collar of my fall jacket in a pointless attempt to keep the frigid breeze from reaching inside. “How does the weather always know to turn right after Halloween?” My winter things are still in Greenbank, and I have no plans to visit anytime soon given how Mama has been behaving. I guess I’ll need to shop for a few staples, beginning with a scarf and mittens.

Beside me, Henry strolls with purpose, seemingly unbothered by the chill. We may have rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago, but unlike me with my unkempt hair and cobbled outfit, he looks perfectly put together in black pants and a charcoal sweater, a camel-colored peacoat thrown over top. There’s no hint of the playful ringmaster who dragged out a mind-bending orgasm from me in the House of Mirrors last night.

It took all of two minutes to find the address for Breakers, the twenty-four-hour diner three blocks away from the station. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say if she’s here?” I ask.

“Yeah. How about ‘Stop fucking running away. Are you trying to kill your grandparents?’”

By his stern tone, I can’t tell if he’s joking. “Okay, but for real.”

His answering stare confirms he is not joking.

“You know you can’t say that to her.”

“Why not? It’s true. She needs to stop running away and she is going to kill them with worry if she keeps this up. You should have heard Howard on the phone. She’s being a selfish brat.”

“Maybe. But she’s also being a girl who just lost her mother, then found out some rather disturbing things about her, which led to finding you. As difficult as this was for you to handle learning, imagine how much harder it is for her. And if she did come back here, then she’s likely looking for more answers, or a connection, or … something.”

“She’s not going to get anything from me behaving like this.” But he frowns as he seems to process my words.

I leave him to his thoughts as we walk another block in silence, following my phone’s directions to the diner on the corner. “This is the address.” The exterior is painted black and a neon sign above reads Breakers with a little monster holding pancakes on his fork. “And it’s definitely where she came last time.” It’s a busy area, with cars crawling along the street and pedestrians rushing by.

Henry holds the front door, waiting for me. I step into the warmth, inhaling the delicious scents of brewing coffee and frying bacon. It’s a simple and clean place with a mix of brown leather-wrapped booths and white tables, the sections divided by half walls. Glass globe lights dangle to cast a warm glow. Several TVs are mounted on a back wall clad with white subway tile, the screens playing football highlights ahead of the day’s games.

I nudge Henry and point to the dark-haired girl sitting by herself at a booth by the window. “That’s her.” I recognize her profile immediately.

Henry moves to charge forward.

I grab his forearm. “Maybe give her grandparents a call first so they can stop worrying?” And so Henry has a moment to collect his calm.

His jaw tenses but he doesn’t argue, retrieving his phone from his pocket. He hits redial on Howard and Gayle’s home number. “Hi, it’s Henry. We found her and she’s safe … yes … yes … I’ll let you know.” He ends the call.

“She came here for a reason,” I remind him, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze, but also one of warning. And I have a sneaking suspicion that reason is him. “Listening first might work better.”

His chest rises with a deep breath but when he heads for her this time, he doesn’t look like a charging bull. “Mind if we join you?”

His voice is calm but Violet jumps, anyway, her wide eyes darting from Henry to me, and back again. “How did you find me?”

He takes that as acceptance, gesturing at the opposite bench. I slide in, and Henry sinks in beside me, his thigh pressed against mine. The booth isn’t meant for more than two people, but we can make it work. At least this allows him to face his daughter.

I hold my breath, equal parts curious and dreading how this exchange will go. I can’t see Henry handling teenage rebellion well.

“So what? You’re so rich, you have someone following me?” she mutters, the initial surprise at seeing us fading quickly, replaced by snarky armor. She jabs at a pancake with her fork. Based on the countless holes through them, she’s been at this for a while.

Henry stalls for several seconds before answering coolly, “Yes. A robotic eye that tells me everywhere you go.”

“I haven’t seen it.” Stab, stab, stab.

“That’s because it’s invisible. And it flies.”

She matches his stony expression. “An invisible flying robotic eye. That’s creepy.”

“So is you suggesting that I’ve paid someone to spy on you,” he retorts, with more than a hint of annoyance.

Violet’s lips twitch. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was suppressing a smile.

“Your grandparents called me this morning, looking for you. They’re beside themselves with worry.”