Ryan looked at me then with a contemplative look. “I want to hurt you.” His voice sounded pained. “I want to hurt Greyson. I want to make him pay.”
“Brandon is the one who dated her, Ryan,” I said softly.
“But Greyson is the reason for all of this.” He clenched his fists.
“You can still take down Greyson,” I mumbled, ignoring the hole in my heart. “Let’s try and find Nancy first.”
“How?”
“Let me go and see Greyson. Let me try and find out what happened to Nancy.”
“I don’t trust you.” He shook his head. “You’ll tell him.”
“Nancy is my friend.” I shook my head. “Her safety is my number one concern.”
He looked at me thoughtfully then. “Okay.” He nodded. “We can still fuck if you want.”
I looked away from him then and bit my lower lip to stop myself from screaming again and crying. “Let me go and find Greyson now.”
“Don’t take too long.” His voice issued a warning. “I’ll be here waiting.”
“Okay.” I exited the room quickly, my heart beating fast.
I didn’t know what to think or to feel. I walked numbly and made a side trip to the bathroom, where I promptly threw up. I felt sick to my stomach as I sat there trying to calm myself down.
“You can do this, Meg.”
I jumped back up and splashed some water on my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and studied my face. I looked like a different person. I could see it in the new lines of my face. There was something more mature in my expression.
I walked out of the restroom slowly. I was scared that I was about to find out that Greyson was just as bad as I’d imagined. I knew that I was going to leave the club. There wasn’t going to be another night for me at the club. I knew that I was going to be scarred for the rest of my life by this experience. I didn’t want to prolong the agony anymore. I’d still try and find Nancy, but I wasn’t going to do it from the club.
I made my way to Greyson’s office and slowly opened the door. I peeked in and saw him sitting at his table, writing something on a piece of paper. My heart stilled as I gazed at him working. He didn’t look like the sort of man who could cause so much pain and heartache. I studied his features, trying to memorize his face for the future. This is how I wanted to remember him.
He looked up then and gave me a broad smile. “Meg, come in.”
“How did you know I was here?” I pushed open the door and walked in.
“I always know when you’re around.” He stood up and walked towards me. “It’s like a sixth sense.”
“Funny.” I smiled weakly, not sure how to say what I wanted to.
“I was just writing something.” He nodded towards the table.
“Oh?”
“But I can share it with you later.” He put his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him. “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
“Sure you have.” I didn’t want to take his words at face value, but it was hard not to be happy at his words.
“I have.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “You don’t even know.”
“No, I guess I don’t.” I sighed as I kissed him back. I felt my body melt into him, loving the warmth and comfort his arms provided.
There was nothing that felt as good as being embraced by Greyson. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan and his hands around my neck. I couldn’t get the image of the pain in his eyes out of my mind. Ryan was a crazy psychopath, but he had loved Maria. He had really loved her. And he had lost her because of the club. Maria had died because of Brandon and Greyson and the club. I knew that for a fact. I just didn’t know how she died. I instinctively knew that whatever had happened wasn’t at Greyson’s hands. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a murderer. I knew that from the pits of my heart and soul. Greyson Twining was many things, but he wasn’t a killer.
“What’s wrong, Meg? You seem sad.” His gaze changed as he stared at me.
“Make love to me, Greyson.” I leaned up and kissed him. “I want you to make sweet, passionate love to me.”
“You do?” He grinned.
“Yes.” I nodded. I wanted one last lovemaking session with him so that I could remember every detail of it.
“You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He swung me around and laughed. He put me down and ran his hands through his hair. “We’ll go to my room.”
“Your study?”
“No, my bedroom.” He grabbed my hand. “I want you to see my bedroom.”