Page 27 of Captive Lies

He looked contrite, his glance cutting to the side before returning to mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I just …” he shook his head. “Didn’t want to say words I’d regret. I was jealous and I was wrong to let Val mess with my head. Made me question whether you’d been lying to me about being uncomfortable incrowds.”

There was a direct jab to myconscience.

“I’ve thought about it,” he continued. “Figured you’re acclimating, right? You’re doing better in public places? That’s why you gave the bar atry?”

He looked hopeful. I simply nodded as my guilt strangled mywords.

“We’ll talk more later,” he promised. “Right now, you need to get your sexy ass in a dress. We’ve been summoned to dinner by AmeliaThorne.”

“Oh, is that why you’re looking all dapper?” I said, trying to free the crush on mychest.

He chuckled and nudged me toward the bedroom, telling me which restaurant we were meeting his family so I could dress accordingly. I was relieved that Grant had gotten over his mood, but I couldn’t shake the pit of anxiety in mygut.

A pit that only grew as we neared the restaurant. When we arrived, instinct screamed at me not to get out of thecar.

“Blaire?” Grant’s voice came to me in a vacuum. “Are youokay?”

There were several cars pulling up to the dining establishment with elegantly dressed couples steppingout.

“Restaurant’s busy tonight,” I remarkedinanely.

“Friday, I guess,” Grant shrugged. “Shallwe?”

Tyler opened my door and I forced myself to step out. Grant offered me his arm and I clung to him tightly. He glanced at me questioningly, putting a reassuring hand over my icy fingers as he led me into therestaurant.

The place was packed and every pair of eyes swung to us and I froze. There was no question this was a privateevent.

Grant cursed under his breath. “What thefuck?”

Amelia met us at the entrance, her expressionapologetic.

“Intimate dinner?” he growled at hismother.

“Gus,” his mother hissed. “He invited supporters to formally announce your dad’s reelection campaign. I could strangle Marcus for agreeing to this. I forgot to call you because I was swamped getting ready at the lastminute.”

Grant turned me toward him, resting his hands on my shoulders. “What do you want to do,Angel?”

I wanted to leave. I felt tooexposed.

The words wouldn’tcome.

Someone called our attention. Bulbs flashed, and our picture wastaken.

“That’s it,” Grant muttered. “I’m taking Blaire home.” Not waiting for his mother’s answer, he wrapped his arms around me and rushed me back to the car, but my heart had already splintered on what I had todo.

Our photographs were splashed in the tabloids the nextday.

Gameover.

Weeks later, I lefthim.

9

Present

Grant staredat the various documents before him. Passports from different countries—Mexico, Germany, Russia, and Canada. The woman in the picture was undoubtedly Blaire, but with different names and hair styles. With each discovery, the hole in his chest expanded into a chasm. He wanted to roar. Instead, he crouched down and studied the contents of the safe: two gold bars, money in different currencies, two cell phones and a couple of flashdrives.

“Mr.Thorne.”

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