Broken Truths (The Frayed Trilogy 2)

Chapter Seven

EMERY

Similar to that day two weeks ago, after finding Sebastian and Easton in my apartment, I sit in the back seat of a car next to the man who’s occupied such a large space of my mind for the past four years. I tried to run that day, too, after what happened in the park. My journal might have been the main reason I made it this far, but it’s also the reason I’mhere. What would have happened if I never went back for it?

I’m both thankful and disappointed for the extra space in Mason’s car. Part of me wants nothing more than to curl up next to Sebastian, whilst the other needs whatever short amount of time we’re in here to process everything that happened tonight.

Sebastian wouldn’t let me leave.

No, that’s not right. He gave me achoice, although it was tainted with the fact he will continue to withhold the two things I need to be free. Could his resistance have more to do with wanting me to stay rather than what he found out about his parents’ murder?

My chest squeezes beneath invisible pressure at the thought of Sebastian finding out I lied about how much I know. About how connected I am to the man he’s looking for. Not only that, Sebastianmetwith him. Were his red knuckles last night because ofhim?

Colton Reed met with him once. Whilst it was only brief, the anger radiating from him when he left was a testament to how it went. It was also the same night I saw Sebastian for the first time.

Tonight he stood in front of me, his hands on my face, asking me tostay.

That night four years ago, he barely noticed me. There was a moment I thought he had, that he trulysaw me—the desperation bleeding so deeply from my pores I could almost taste the metallic tang on my tongue. But he didn’t. He walked away, and as soon as Colton re-emerged,they were gone, leaving me in hell whilst I screamed in my head for him to take me with him. I don’t know why my mind latched on to him. I didn’t know him. But nothing I could come up with was worse than what I was already living.

I don’t know if there were ever any other meetings with Colton. I have no idea what kind of business Sebastian is involved in outside of the office or why he would want to meet with the likes of my uncle. I don’t know how it all tied into his parents’ murder.

All I know is it’s only a matter of time before their paths cross again, and I don’t want to be here when they do.

Now that he knows who else is involved, Sebastian isn’t going to stop until he finds him. Only as much as Sebastian can take care of himself, I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that he’s going to get hurt. No scenario I can think of ends with both men alive. I know my uncle. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I’ve lived it. Sebastian might have killed someone tonight, but how can he win against pure evil?

Not only that, the closer Sebastian gets is only going to bringmecloser to the man I’m running from.

This is all my fault.

None of this would be happening if I’d never told Sebastian what I know. Despite what might happen between us if he knew who I was, I don’t doubt that knowledge would only add more fuel to the fire of his determination to find him. The thought of being completely free of my uncle flashes through my mind, but it’s crushed by doubts. As much as I despise my uncle, how am I supposed to handle another life on my shoulders, no matter whose it is? The weight of one life almost wrecked me—still haunted me to this day—let alone another.

Whichever way this plays out, another person is likely going to die because of me.

The one thing I’m sure of is, it would be unbearable if it ended up being Sebastian.

We’re all silent as Mason drives us away from Obsidian, and the weight of everything that happened tonight comes crashing down on me. With a glance at Sebastian, I forget all about wanting space. He sits tensely beside me, the passing streetlights exposing the crease between his brows. Before I can think better of it, I undo my seat belt.

Sebastian’s head whips to me. “Grace, what the hell are you doing?” His voice is a mixture of anger and worry, but before he can say anything else, I slide closer to him, refastening myself into the middle seat. Without a word, I lean into him, wrapping one arm around his hard stomach. Once his initial shock passes, his chest expands with a deep breath. Maybe I imagine it, but I swear some of the tension leaves his body as I settle against him. Though more than that, I find that some of the pressure squeezingmychest relaxes.

Exhaustion weighs heavier on me with each moment that passes. I try to fight it, knowing we must be close to the penthouse by now, but soon enough, the hum of the car, mixed with Sebastian’s steady breathing, pulls me under.

Hushed voices try to break through the fog clouding my head, but I don’t have the strength to pull myself out of it for longer than a few seconds at a time before I slip away again.

Strong arms wrap around my body, and a weightless sensation overcomes me until I feel a hard chest against me. Stirring, I blink my eyes a few times, trying to orient myself.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” a deep voice rumbles in my ear.Sebastian.

In my disorientated state, it makes it impossible to tell how long I’ve been in his arms. When his hard body is replaced with a pillow-soft surface, I’m able to break through the sleep that nearly took me over completely.

“Sebastian?” I question, though it’s barely above a cracked whisper. After rubbing a fist over my tired eyes, I blink into the mostly dark room.

“I’m here,” he says as the bed dips beside me. Soft light filters in from what looks like could be an ensuite, illuminating the room that is most definitely not one I’ve seen before.

“Where are we?” I ask, sitting up, but his hand on my shoulder stops me before I get far.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You need to sleep,” he says, encouraging me to lie back against the pillows. Sebastian disappears for a moment, and it’s almost enough for me to do exactly that, but he’s back in no time.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, letting his hand come to rest on the waistband of my jeans, his fingers moving over my lower belly in slow movements. I’m not even sure he realises he’s doing it. However, he must take my silence as anobecause he adds, “I can give you something else to wear. These won’t be comfortable to sleep in, and I’d like to check your knee.”