20. His Guilty Mind

Theodore

The room is empty.

A frown immediately descends on my face and I take a glance at my wristwatch. It's far too late. She has never failed to return earlier than this on all the nights she went out.

Nova has always been time conscious. It's almost like she's constantly counting down the seconds in her head. Even back then, every time we would stroll deep into the woods behind her parent's hotel she would take us back just in time for lunch.

So when I stare at her empty room the fatigue vanishes and dread replaces it.

I pull out my phone and dial her number. The calm of the room is quickly broken by a phone on her nightstand lighting up and vibrating. One look at the picture of Nova and her friend on the screen is all it takes to realize she left her phone behind.

“Grant, for fuck sake,” I mutter darkly. I just know that fucker has done something.

I dial his number. The ringing tone shouts through the silence of the house. It goes on and on until it stops. I dial again. No answer.

“Pick up you bastard,” my voice comes out louder than intended.

When it is clear I'll be getting no result from trying to reach Grant, I stride downstairs and back into the car on the driveway.

I scroll down my contact list and my hand hovers over one name. I really don't want to have to talk to her, but my worry overcomes annoyance and I press the call button.

The ringing tone goes on for two beats before she picks up.

“Theodore, baby! You know I think this might be the first time you've called me after all these years, oh, are you finally ready to invite me over, maybe for a late nightcap or maybe something–”

“Veronica!”

She pauses from her rant, annoyed. “Yes?”

“Where is Grant?” I ask as I start up the engine and drive out of the estate.

“Ugh, Grant. I don't know, you know I want nothing to do with him after he leaked those pictures I took–”

“Find. Out.” I snap and hang up.

The city lights blur past me as I drive. Maybe they both just forgot to look out for time or maybe Nova is trying to see how far she can push my patience. But knowing Grant, the chances of my fears coming true is higher.

As I drive, I try to conjure up a list of the most exclusive and decadent places I can think of–Grant's scene. Of course my list is severely limited because I hardly ever visit such places.

Veronica though…

She calls back and I immediately answer. “So?”

“So…I had to pull a few strings. I even called Tracey and you know how much I hate her fake ass and her impotent boyfriend, you know they're trying for a child–”

“Veronica!”

“Fine! Fine…Tracey said she thought she saw Grant and a new girl at the club that just opened, you know the one where my friend–”

“Send me the address.” I cut the call.

As soon as the address comes in, I step on the gas. If I thought I was overreacting before, I now know I was right to.

Grant cannot be trusted around alcohol. He becomes another person when he drinks, someone who is unsafe for everybody around him.

Shit.

I can't believe I let Nova get close to him when I know all too well what he is capable of doing. Was I so opposed to letting her go that I pushed her into Grant's dangerous arms?

The thought punches a hole in my chest and anger vibrates under my skin as my hands tighten around the steering wheel and I press forward, willing the car to go even faster.

Minutes later, I arrive at the booming club and rush to the entrance. The bouncer at the door folds his hands as I approach, nodding to a line of people that goes all the way down the corner.

My teeth grind at the obstruction. I have never stood in line waiting for anything and I'll be damned if I have to start now.

I take a step closer, allowing him stare at my face. “Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?” I say quietly.

At first amusement dances in his eyes, but then it widens in recognition and his smirk fades.

“Mr Thompson,” he says quickly, stepping aside. “Right this way sir.”

Inside the club is chaos. It's a den of music, sweating bodies and smoke.

I weave through dancing bodies and walk straight to the VIP section. Grant is predictable.

He's surrounded by women dancing on him while his eyes roll back in pleasure with a bottle in one hand and a stack of money he sprays the girls in the other.

My face twists in palpable disgust. Seeing him like this, I can barely believe he was someone I used to look up to.

I turn and get a quick look at the club. Nova is nowhere in sight.

I shove through the crowd of people around and grab him by his collar, dragging him upright. “Where the fuck is Nova?” I shout to be heard over the music.

His eyes struggle to focus. “Who?”

Rage boils inside me.

He continues lazily. “Oh, Nova, she left.”

My stomach drops as I fear the worst. I've seen the lengths our father had to go to cover up after my brother. Grant is capable of the worst.

“Left with who?”

Thoughts of Nova surrounded by the worst kinds of men and in danger flood my brain. I would never forgive myself if she got hurt.

“She left alone,” he slurs, pointing to the entrance. “She left through that door.”

I want to believe him, God I want to believe she's safe. But Grant has never been trustworthy. I tighten my grip on his shirt. “You better pray that she's safe.”

I turn to walk away, shielding my eyes from the flashing lights.

“You know, I can't wait to have her…she's so uptight, one night with me will–”

My fist connects with his jaw with a satisfying cracking sound that sends the women around him running away. I stare at him on the floor, groaning and holding his bleeding nose. If I wasn't so worried I would be smiling at the sight. I had been looking for something to let my frustrations out on all evening and the bastard volunteered.

“Never speak about her that way.”

I spit on the floor near his shoes and walk away, escaping the den of the club.

Fuck.

My chest is heaving as I take in the cold air.

“Nova,” I whisper hoarsely, “Where the hell are you?”

The guilt hits hard and fast. I should never have forced her to work under me. I told myself I was helping but I can't even convince myself. I was holding on, without any regard for her feelings.

Once again, I have pushed someone away to their downfall. Just like with Isabel.

I get in the car, and start the slow drive back home, hoping bitterly that she will somehow be there safely.

I barely pay attention to the streets as I drive by, but a shape under a streetlight catches my attention.

My heart stops as I get closer.

“Nova!”

I slam the brakes and rush out. She's crumpled on the floor a few feet away from the club. Her fitted mini dress is dirty and does nothing to protect her from the cold.

I drop down to my knees and pull her trembling body into my arms. “Nova, look at me.”

Her eyelids flutter and her pale lips part. She doesn't look like she's fully conscious. “Teddy?”

My throat tightens. “Yes, yes it's me.”

She relaxes weakly against me. Despite the situation, I find myself smiling.

“Don't worry,” I whisper as I scoop her up. “I’ve got you.”

I carry her to the car and we drive home in silence. Every few seconds, I look over at her, taking comfort in the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Back at the house, I carry her upstairs and wrap her in blankets, watching her sleep.

Earlier, I could have sworn I would let her out of the contract if I find her. But now, as I watch her take steady breaths in my arms, I realize that I can't. I won't.

I need to hold onto her tighter.

I brush a damp strand of hair away from her face and whisper against her temple. “You're safe. I'll never, ever let anything happen to you.”

I'll protect her.

Even if she hates me for it.