Page 28 of Fractured

Get a grip, Raven.

An alarm goes off on my phone reminding me I need to head to the car. I usually don’t need such reminders, but I’ve become so distracted by the missing watch that time has slipped away from me.

The moment I enter the car, I search every nook and cranny. I knew it wouldn’t be here, just couldn’t help myself from searching anyway. Vander gives me a sideways glance, but doesn’t say anything about my erratic behavior. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s still acting peeved. I spend the entire car ride staring forward, tapping one finger on the armrest, plotting a way to get back at my stalker. He’s gone too far this time.

Grayson is already waiting for me outside when we pull up to the hotel that houses the ballroom the event is being held in. His huge smile greets me and he’s already waiting with a hand on the handle for when Vander hits the unlock button.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he says as he slides into the car, making me move to give him room. “You ready for all the well-wishers and mourning women?”

“Oh lord,” I reply with a roll of the eyes. “You’re really letting that article get to your head.”

“It’s not every day you get called D.C.’s most eligible bachelor. You should be proud of yourself for snagging such a catch.” He winks at me and pulls me in to kiss my cheek. A few lightbulbs go off with the gesture as the waiting reporters give us the rare decency to say hello before they bombard us with questions. Another side effect of how popular our engagement instantly became.

Grayson pulls the car door shut and my brows pinch together in a question. “What are you doing? I thought we needed to get inside.”

He gives me his dazzling boy-next-door smile. “I wanted a moment alone with you before we get swarmed.” He glances at Vander before amending what he said. “Well, at least as alone as possible. I know you have the engagement ring, but I wanted to give you something else a little more personal just between the two of us.” He hands me a long jewelry box.

I take it and rub the velvet with my fingertips, at a loss for what to say at the unexpected gesture. “Open it,” he whispers, leaning in closer.

There’s a slight creak at the hinges when I lift the lid, and I suck in a breath at my first glimpse of what’s inside. A white gold chain holds a teardrop pendant. It has dark red rubies on it, separated by swirling lines. The shape of it reminds me of a drop of blood, which is only aided by the dark rubies sparkling on it.

A lock of my hair is tucked behind my ear as Grayson tries to get a better look at me. “Do you like it?” he questions with a hint of vulnerability.

I glance up at him and stare into his eyes. “I love it! I don’t think I’ll ever want to take it off,” I admit. Biting my lip, I glance down at my new pretty, feeling the truth to the words fill me up. I’ve never owned a piece of jewelry that felt like it was a manifestation of my soul, but this pendant speaks to me like none other.

He reaches for the box, but pauses just shy of taking it from me. “May I?” he asks. I smile, handing him the box before gazing into his eyes once more. They shine with happiness. There’s something missing in them that I didn’t realize until now had always been there. It’s an absence of self-loathing. What does my happy go lucky, boy-next-door fiancé have to hate himself over?

My inspection is interrupted when he holds up the necklace, a part of the clasp in each hand, ready to put around my neck. I lift up my hair and shift in the seat giving him better access to the back of my neck as he puts the necklace on for me. After a moment, the fingers of one of his hands trails along the necklace and I turn back toward him. His fingers don’t stop their exploration as he follows the chain to the pendant resting on the center of my chest. My eyes follow his progress as he holds the pendant for a second. “Stunning,” he whispers reverently.

He drops the pendant and his fingers trail farther down my chest. The feather-light touch sends a flutter of desire to my clit. He traces a line over the swell of my breast and dips into my cleavage before his tender caress leaves me. When I glance up, I find him staring at my lips with longing in his gaze. Before I can find out if he’ll act on his desire, a tap sounds at the window next to him.

We both look toward the disruption and find Vander standing outside the door. I have no idea when he left the car, that’s how wrapped up in Grayson I became. With a sly smile, Grayson turns back to me. His hand cups my cheek and his thumb runs over my bottom lip. The cocky asshole knows exactly what he’s done to me. Despite the truly horrendous sex, my body can’t help but become lost to his touch whenever he’s around.

“Ready to go, my jelly bean?” Okay. Yep. Had to ruin it. I roll my eyes and shove him toward the door. He lets out a laugh full of joy, and Vander opens the door for us. The reporters have been pushed back by the security team, leaving us a path leading straight to the front entrance.

Grayson’s arm wraps around my waist as he escorts me inside the building and holds his other hand up to ward off those trying to snag a sound bite to go with their article to be published in the morning paper. His hand slides up my spine as we walk through the lobby and I wince with the odd pricks plaguing my back. I still haven’t been able to name the sensation. It’s nothing like a pulled muscle.

We make it to the ballroom and are instantly surrounded by acquaintances trying to give us warm wishes. Women asking to see the ring that Grayson slid on my finger after we signed the contract. It was such a cold, detached moment compared to when he just gave me the necklace.

Everyone we interact with wants to hear all about the romance that inspired our pending nuptials. They all have to know it’s an arrangement with how sudden the announcement is; but they like to hear the illusion of love. It’s all a show, something I’m used to in life. But yet again, I’m hit with the hatred of filtering through all the fake necessities of society. At least this time I have Grayson by my side to help filter through it all, and it’s nice as fuck being able to bus chuck most of the fanfare his way. Maybe he’s useful after all.

Surprisingly, having Grayson here is distracting me from obsessing over my stolen watch. I play with the pendant, while his constant light touches, grazing caresses, and flirting kisses are lighting me up. He has a way of delivering each show of affection that turns them into a tease. I hate how my body responds to him. It viscerally remembers just how bad he was in bed. I just can’t stop myself from wondering how much of it was all an act. The more I think about it, the more I realize he was purposefully trying to push me away. There were so many moments where he seemed to fight himself. I can’t let go of my curiosity. Which version is the real him? And why in the hell would he push me away when he so clearly wanted to lay his claim on me?

One way or another, I will get my answers from him. Even if I have to use nefarious means to get them.

Grayson leans in close and nuzzles his nose against my cheek in a cute show of affection. Cute for everyone watching, not for me. I let out the expected giggle and listen yet again to him telling our agreed story of how he proposed to me. My responses are now engrained after having heard it so many times. The exact times I should widen my smile, when I should duck my head in a show of being coy, the cue for when I should stare up at him lovingly.

I go through the motions on autopilot, which is how I’m able to concentrate on the conversation behind me. With a glance over my shoulder, I take in the odd pair. One is an older man in his early forties, the second is a good-looking man in his late twenties. They aren’t dressed quite as nice as everyone else, making them seem out of place. I’m not sure who they are, but I can guess their profession based on their conversation.

“Did you explain to him we can’t look into it until it’s been seventy-two hours?” the good-looking one says.

“Of course I did, but he’s the mayor. You try saying no to him when he’s convinced his son is missing,” the older one replies.

“It’s just one more day. Then he can file a missing person report and we can investigate officially. Did he actually go through the motions of finding his son, or is the shit not answering his phone so he’s automatically missing? I swear we aren’t a babysitting service,” cutie complains.

“I’m sure the mayor is saying the same thing. Just one more day. Why can’t they just get a head start on it now. Either way, he says he checked his son’s place and asked some of his friends. No one’s seen him. Doesn’t hurt for us to check it out. We’ll have to do it either way.” I hear the sound of him patting his partner on the back.

Seems Scott has finally been missed. I was wondering why I haven’t heard anything in the news yet. But I was expecting his body to be found, not for him to be reported as missing. Sure, my stalker mentioned all the evidence left behind, but that never equated to removing his body. Too bad the motherfucker isn’t talking to me right now, because I’d really like to know if he’s already aware of what’s going on.

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