I turned to my room next and that’s when I heard a low groan followed by Grayson’s sharp voice.
“I don’t care what you have to do. I’m telling you she’s missing and we shouldn’t have to wait 12 hours before we start searching—”
Dammit. I flew through my bedroom door before Grayson requested sending the entire National Guard out looking for me.
“I’m not missing!” I yelled. Grayson turned to me with a face clouded in anger. He was standing in his boxers, bloodshot eyes hidden behind hard features. His dark hair stood in every direction and I wasn’t sure if he was about to kiss me or strangle me. I’d say it was an even 50/50 for either option, so I stayed exactly where I was.
“Jim, never mind. She’s here. Thanks,” he said before tossing his phone onto my bed. He used too much force and the phone rolled off and thumped to the ground. He didn’t move to grab it; instead he stared straight at me.
I held my hands up in defense. “Before you even start, just get out of my apartment.”
My words wounded him. He flinched and took a step back, clearly confused.
“Where have you been? You look like you haven’t slept at all,” he said, scanning over me.
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t sleep at all. I walked to Brooklyn’s apartment and purchased a one-way ticket to Paris. But, wait,” I said, with sarcasm starting to ooze out of every pore. “You probably already know that!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, taking two steps toward me.
“Stop,” I warned, holding out my hand again.
He raked his hands through his hair and bit down hard on his lip as if trying to keep it together.
“I’m leaving for Paris today. It’s been my plan for a while. I just didn’t tell you about it.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Paris? What in the world? You didn’t think that was something you should have told me?”
I laughed and turned to retrieve the travel backpack I’d purchased a few weeks earlier from beneath my bed. If I organized everything perfectly, I could fit everything I needed inside of it.
“Cammie, god dammit. You’re being crazy. You need to slow down and talk to me,” he said, reaching to pull the backpack out of my hands. “Where did you go last night and what’s all this about Paris?"
“No! I don’t owe you a damn thing!” I yelled, tugging the backpack out of his reach. “I saw your email, Grayson!” There it was. “You left your account open on my computer and I saw my little folder. All of your ‘Cammie’ emails. I read every single one. You’re a sick son of a bitch.”
He scrunched his face, trying to catch up and decipher my outburst.
“Your folder?”
I was beyond pissed.
“Yes.” I spoke annoyingly slow to drive home my point. “The folder where you saved every single detail of how you’ve meddled in my life. Job interviews, test scores, rent, scholarships—every single thing you manipulated in my life. You are a fucking stalker, Grayson!”
“I’m not a stalker. Calm down,” he protested. His eyes were completely dilated in anger and I knew that there was no going back. This was the fight that would end us. Except it wouldn’t just end us. It would break us down until we were both casualties with nothing left to show but two broken hearts.
“After your parents died,” he began to explain, “Brooklyn asked me to watch out for you. You two had a rocky relationship then, and she felt like you had nobody to count on, so I stepped up and I did what I had to do.”
“Bullshit,” I hissed. "You did what you wanted to do, so you could be some kind of knight in shining armor. Can you even imagine how it feels to find out you've just been a fucking damsel in distress your entire adult life?"
“Tell me,” he asked, stepping closer. “Tell me one thing I did that a devoted friend or big brother or father figure wouldn’t have done! You had nobody, Cammie! Nobody to help you except for your sister.”
“I didn’t ask for your help!” I yelled. “I never asked for a big brother!”
“Because you’re too proud,” he protested, his rage boiling over. “You wouldn’t ask for help unless you were seconds from drowning. And even then, you’d probably resent the life preserver! Fuck.” He gripped his head and bent down, clearly struggling to make sense of the situation.
I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw ached.
“Please get out of my apartment, Grayson.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he said, pulling on his jeans as quickly as he could. He turned back to me as he grabbed for his shirt. “I would have shown you the folder soon. I would have explained to you what I’ve done and you’d see my reasons. You’d understand why I stepped in when you had nobody.”