He shrugged. “I just had a strange feeling that something had happened.”
I raised both eyebrows. I knew Greyson lived in the nice part of town, on the other side of the lake, a good twenty-minute drive. “So you drove up here?”
He nodded. “I figured you’d be getting off work. I knew the club closed at one.”
The clock on my dash told me it was closer to two now, and getting up with Maple at six wasn’t going to be fun. But I couldn’t deny his strange sixth sense about me was proving to be spot on. “I was just about to head home.”
“Was I right ... did something happen tonight?” he asked.
I gave a careful nod. “It’s over now. Honestly, I’m fine.”
“You’ve got to give me more than that, sweetheart.” His tone left little room for negotiation.
“In this business there are some real creeps. I’m sure it was harmless. Just some misplaced affection.”
Greyson’s dark eyes stayed locked on mine for a few moments longer and I wondered if he was going to press me for the full story. Then he took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “I just want to get home.”
He dropped his hands and took a step back. “Okay, then. Goodnight.”
“Night.” Surprised that he wasn’t going to argue with me like he had the other night, I cranked the engine and pulled out.
The shadowy hulk of his black SUV followed me out of the lot a minute later. I expected to see him turn at the corner towards the highway on-ramp. Instead, his headlights stayed in my rear-view mirror for mile after mile. It wasn't hard to keep track of him; at this unholy hour, so far out of town, we were the only two people on the road.
If any other guy had pulled this stunt, I'd already be calling 911. But I knew Greyson. He and Marcus had been friends for years. And even after Marcus died, even though I hated Grey for everything he'd taken away from me, I found I couldn't completely distrust him. Even if he was only helping me to soothe his own guilt, I could tell that his desire to help me was sincere in itself. He didn't have an ulterior motive—or rather, he did, but I knew it already. This was his attempt to atone for his sins, pure and simple. He hadn't gone to all this effort just to get into my pants or steal my kidneys or whatever the hell Brant was after. Grey's chivalry may have been annoying as hell...but it was pure. No funny business. Unlike certain middle-aged creepazoids.
So instead of pulling over to yell at him, I just kept driving. My new shadow followed me all the way to my dilapidated apartment complex. By the time I backed into my assigned parking spot, I was surprised to find tears in my eyes. As much as I resented Grey, nobody had shown such genuine concern for me in a long time. Nobody else had cared whether I got home safely.
I turned off the engine, stepped out, and saw him idling in the middle of the narrow lot. I almost wanted to wave goodbye. Almost.
He finally roared away when I shut the front door behind me. I walked through my silent apartment, finding the babysitter asleep in the armchair. I shook her shoulder to wake her and handed her some of the cash I’d just made. And then she was gone, and I was alone again. I breathed in the thick, musty stillness as I slipped off my shoes.
I crept into the bathroom to wash my face, but something made me pause just before I turned on the water. I stared blankly into the mirror. The remnants of the makeup I wore for every shift was left, and I knew the customers loved it. But in that moment, my face struck me as a grotesque mask. Bloody lips, porcelain skin, cartoonish lashes, eyeliner and shadow smeared into bruise-blue raccoon circles. This wasn't me. This was barely even a woman. This was a...plaything.
My insides tightened, all the way from my stomach to my throat. My eyes burned from more than the makeup. What was I doing here? Who was I? What had my life become?
Stifling a sob, I hurried into Maple's nursery. I needed the comfort of her sweet little snores, her clean milky smell, the sight of her tiny hand curled in her mouth. Some reminder that I wasn't really as alone as I felt. Some reassurance that everything—the grief, the long hours, the lack of sleep, the humiliation—would all be worth it in the end.
But it wasn't enough. I sank down beside her crib and cried as quietly as I could. I hated myself for surrendering to hysteria like this. I hated how deep Grey's stormy eyes always saw into my soul. I hated the fact that he might be the only man in the world who could understand me. The only other person who ached so much over the same loss.
Chapter Five
Greyson