“Thea?” I said. I was confused. I had no idea what she was doing at Hawthorne House or why she’d come through the passage. My gaze darted toward my door. Oren was in the hall. Even now, with Skye and Ricky in prison, he was staying close.
“Don’t say anything,” Thea implored me, her voice low. “I need you to come with me. It’s Grayson.”
“Grayson?” I repeated. He’d been like a ghost in the House since I’d woken up. He either didn’t want to see me or couldn’t face me. I’d watched him swimming laps every night.
“He’s in trouble, Avery.” Thea looked like she’d been crying, and that scared me, because Thea Calligaris wasn’t a person who cried. She didn’t do vulnerable.
She didn’t do scared.
“What’s going on? Thea.”
She disappeared back into the passageway. I followed her, and an instant later, hands gripped me from behind. Someone slammed a damp cloth down over my mouth and nose. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream.
The smell of the cloth was sickly sweet. Everything started going dark around me, and the last thing I heard was Thea.
“I had to, Avery. They have Rebecca.”
CHAPTER 82
I woke up tied to an antique chair. The room around me was packed tight with boxes and knickknacks. The entire place smelled like it had been soaked in gasoline.
Two people stood across from me: Mellie, who looked like she might throw up any second. And Sheffield Grayson.
“Where am I?” I asked, and then the memory of what had happened in the passageway came flooding back. “Where’s Thea? And Rebecca?”
“I assure you, your friends are fine.” Sheffield Grayson was wearing a suit. He had me tied to a chair in what appeared to be some kind of storage unit, and he was wearing a suit.
He has Grayson’s eyes.
“I am sorry about all of this,” Grayson’s father said, flicking a speck off the cuff of his shirt. “The chloroform. The restraints.” He paused. “The bomb.”
“The bomb?” I repeated. The police had arrested Ricky and Skye weeks ago. They had motive, and there was evidence—there had to be, for an arrest. “I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” Grayson’s father closed his eyes. “I am not a bad man, Ms. Grambs. I take no joy in… this.” He didn’t specify what this was.
“You kidnapped me,” I said hoarsely. “I’m tied to a chair.” He didn’t reply. “You tried to kill me.”
“Injure you. If I’d meant for you to die, my man would have timed the explosion differently, wouldn’t he?”
I thought of Oren telling me that if I’d been a few steps closer to the plane when the bomb had detonated, I would have died.
“Why?” I said lowly.
“Why what? The bomb or—” Sheffield Grayson gestured to the bindings on my wrists. “The rest?”
“All of it.” My voice shook. Why kidnap me? Why bring me here? What is he planning to do to me next?
“Blame your father.” Sheffield Grayson broke eye contact then, and for reasons I couldn’t quite pinpoint, that sent a chill down my spine. “Your real father. If Tobias Hawthorne the Second weren’t such a coward, I wouldn’t have had to go to such lengths to lure him out.”
My captor’s voice was calm, commanding. Like he was the rational one here.
The muscles in my chest tightened, threatening to wring the air from my lungs, but I forced myself to breathe, to stay focused. Stay alive. “Toby,” I said. “You’re after Toby.”
“The bomb should have worked.” Sheffield began cuffing the sleeves on his dress shirt, a furious motion—and a familiar one. “You were rushed to the hospital. It made worldwide news. I was ready. The trap was set. All that was left to do was wait for that bastard to come to your bedside, the way any self-respecting father would. And then your lawyer had the audacity to have you moved.”
To Hawthorne House, with all its security.
“So here we are,” Sheffield Grayson said, “as unfortunate as that may be.”
I tried to read between the lines of what he was saying. It had been clear from Grayson’s meeting with his father that the man blamed Toby for Colin’s death. My captor must have realized, somehow, that Toby was alive. He’d convinced himself that I was Toby’s daughter.
And this entire place smelled like gasoline.
“I’m sorry.” Mellie’s voice shook. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”