Page 66 of Hell of a Mess
“What would cause this though, if not a head injury?” Bane asked.
I wasn’t a fucking doctor. But I was going to do some research. No one was asking Lace about this. I wouldn’t allow it. She’d lived in this darkness, been abused, neglected, and forced to take care of her comatose sister when she wasn’t pretending to be her.
“We’ve seen enough,” I said, turning to leave the room and get the hell out of this house.
“There’s a nurse through that door. She’s sleeping heavily, but that is probably due to the empty bottle of gin beside her bed,” Locke informed me.
“So, someone else does know about Dalia’s existence.” I turnedto look at him as I said the words.
He nodded.
Good. That was a plus.
“Can we ID her?” I asked, thinking we might need to go get a picture and a hair sample.
“I took photos of each angle of her face, the bedroom, and Dalia and also grabbed her brush,” Bane replied.
“Text Oz, and let’s go,” I told him, not looking back.
Seeing that room with the woman in it and knowing that Lace had either been forced to sleep in a fucking basement or take care of her sister all day was eating me alive. I wasn’t sure there was a torture I could do to Halsten to ease the fury clawing inside me.
“What’s in the notebook?” Locke asked from behind me.
Before anyone else could touch it, I rolled it up and held it tightly in my hand.
“It’s mine,” I said, speeding up my pace.
“You didn’t bring a notebook,” Bane pointed out like a nosy bastard.
“But I’m leaving with one.” My answer was closer to a snarl than speaking.
Neither of them asked again. But I knew it would be brought up. I’d have to answer eventually.
The sun had just started to rise when I walked into the house.
I’d only been gone for four days, but, damn, it felt longer. The flight back here, all I could think about was checking on Lace. Seeing her sleep. Reassuring myself that she was safe and warm. The reminder that I had her, that I could protect her, was the only thing that kept me sane. It had been a good thing I couldn’t read any more from the notebook on our trip back. The otherswould have seen it and started asking about it again. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
Easing myself with the sight of Lace would help. I took the stairs two at a time, not wanting to waste a second. The rest of the house would be awake in a couple of hours, and I’d have to be in Linc’s office with the others to decide our next step. Until then, I needed to be near her.
Fuck, I needed to hold her. Touch her. Reassure the beast raging inside me that she was okay. She wasn’t going to be sent to a cold, dank basement again. And because I liked the way she felt in my arms. I fucking loved how she smelled and curled against me.
She needed me, and I reveled in it. But I was realizing I needed her too. Maybe more.
When I reached her bedroom, I started to turn the doorknob and stopped. Looking down at the notebook in my hand, I knew I didn’t want her to see that. It would upset her and bring back shit I wanted her to forget. I stalked over to my room and tossed it onto the dresser before returning to her door. I quietly eased it open; anticipation made me want to swing it wide and go barreling in, but I refrained. She needed her rest. Fuck knew she’d had little of it in her life.
My gaze sought her the second I stepped inside, but the empty, neatly made bed caused me to pause. A coldness began to seep through my veins as my eyes scanned the room. It had been cleaned. Nothing of Lace’s was in here. No sign of her at all. Even the last book I had left her was gone from the nightstand. Desperation warred with violence as my breathing grew fast and heavy. With long strides, I went to the en suite and found it cleaned with fresh towels and not one detail that said Lace had bathed or showered. I did the same with the closet. Empty hangers were stacked neatly against the wall.
As I backed out of the closet slowly, the violence was winning,fueled by panic. If that was what this was. I’d never been panicked in my fucking life. But right now, I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and I was struggling with shortness of breath. I also wanted to bash in walls and leave a path of destruction on my way to find her.
Lace belonged here. In this room. Close to me.
“She’s at Mal’s.” Linc’s voice was as unwelcome as his words.
I spun around and leveled my wrath on him.
“She called him, Luther. She asked him to come get her. Don’t attempt to kill me because I’ll put you on your knees even if I don’t want to.”
She called him?
