“It’s about me, right? My apartment and Ralph?”
My question is met with stony silence — which tells me I’m 100% correct.
“That’s what I thought. I’m staying.”
Chase sighs, but doesn’t argue.
“Stubborn,” he mutters.
“Overprotective,” I counter.
He chuckles, but I feel his body go tense as he turns his attention back to Knox.
“What did you find out?”
Knox’s dark eyes flicker from me to Chase. “Goldstein is in the wind. I checked his apartment, went to his office, even paid a visit to a few of his friends. None of them have seen him.”
“You’re sure?” Chase asks. “They aren’t lying, covering for him?”
Knox doesn’t bother to respond, but his eyes glitter with something dark — like onyx exposed to light — and his head bows in the slightest of nods.
He’s sure.
I don’t want to knowhowhe’s so sure. Ever. Because I have a feeling it involves a lot of broken bones and scary threats.
“There’s more,” Knox says, voice low. His dark eyes move to me. “Maybe you should go back to bed, Gemma.”
Chase’s muscles go even tenser and I feel my heartbeat kick into high gear.
“I’m staying.” My voice is resolute, even if there’s fear running through it. “I want to know.”
Knox nods, looking back at Chase. “The apartment was ransacked — you saw that. Nothing valuable was taken. But, after picking through the wreckage, I think he did find something.” His eyes move to mine. “You had a wooden box, beneath your bed.”
Dread drops into my stomach like a stone.
“Looked like you kept lots of old papers in it — high school report cards, old invoices, photographs, that kind of shit. They were scattered all over the floor of your bedroom.” Knox’s gaze narrows on my face. “You know what I’m talking about?”
I nod.
“He put the empty box back on your bed, when he was done. There was a note in it.”
I suck in a nervous breath, and Chase’s arm tightens around me.
“What did it say?” I force myself to ask, dreading the answer.
Knox’s eyes are intent. “‘Tomorrow I won’t be the one they’re laughing at, bitch.’”
“Shit,” I whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Chase turns me in his arms, cups my face between his hands, and bends to look into my eyes. “Gemma. What’s wrong?”
My gaze, wide with panic, flickers up to his. “This is a mess. Oh god, I have to leave. I have to get out of here, leave the city, maybe go back to my Mom’s… ”
“Gemma.” His grip on my face tightens, not enough to hurt me but enough to ground me in the present. “Tell me what’s going on. We’ll fix it.”
“You can’t fix this, Chase!” A hysterical sound bubbles up from my throat. “The press — they’re going to love this. They’ll eat it up. And the fallout… God, I knew this would happen. I knew they’d find out. Dammit, I’m such an idiot.”
“Sunshine.”