Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(51)

Parking on the street in front of the house, I hopped out of the car and jogged up to the front door. I slid my key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered Grant’s house. After I shut the door, I climbed the stairs up to his bedroom and sighed when I stepped inside. Despite myself, I collapsed back into his unmade bed and breathed in the smell of him.

“Oh my God,” I groaned, feeling a little bit ridiculous.

I jumped out of bed and quickly located the clothes I’d left here, grabbed a black T-shirt from Grant’s drawer, and then carried the bag of stuff downstairs. It would be nice to sit around at his place all afternoon and not have to worry about my roommates, but maybe it was time to confront them about this. I didn’t want to have to keep avoiding my own apartment. I felt bad about Gabi’s breakup, but my relationship with Grant had no bearing on what had happened.

I opened the door to Grant’s place, stepped outside, and screamed.

A man was standing at the bottom of the steps. He startled backward. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in defense.

My hands were shaking as I stared down at the man before me. Terror crept into me and was quickly sliding toward outright panic. There was a strange man on Grant’s doorstep with an older yet familiar face and all too familiar brown eyes with gold ring. I swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in my throat.

My fight-or-flight instinct was kicking in, and all the adrenaline in my body was saying to get the hell out of there as fast as I could because I was looking right at Grant’s dad.

“Ca-can I help you?” I managed to get out.

He smiled what had probably once been a charming smile. “Yes, ma’am. Do you happen to know when the boys who lives here will be home?”

Oh God.

He had tracked down Grant’s house. He had to know they were on tour. Was he staking out the place to find out when he could make his move?

Calm down. You can get through this.

“No, sir. They’ve been gone awhile.”

“Do you have a way to get a hold of them?”

“Sorry, no,” I said, quickly locking up Grant’s place.

When I turned back around, he had taken a few steps toward me. I was visibly shaking at this point. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was everything Grant had warned me about. He had said his dad would show up. He had said his dad would hunt him down. Now, here I was, in the line of fire.

No one knew where I was. I hadn’t told any of my roommates, nor had I spoken with Grant today. I was totally f*cked.

“Excuse me. I-I have to go,” I murmured.

I tried edging around him to get back to my car. His hand reached out for me, and I stumbled back a few steps in shock.

His eyes locked with mine for a split second before he spoke, “Interesting choice for a necklace.”

In horror, my hand immediately went for the dog tags dangling around my neck. I was wearing Grant’s dog tags—the tags that had actually belonged to his father, the military vet. Grant had worn them forever to try to remind him of the man he wanted to become—one who was the opposite of his father.

“When you talk to Grant, tell him I’m not going away. He has to come back sometime.”

“I think you should leave him alone,” I peeped.

He cocked his head to the side, and I saw the psychopath Grant always talked about. His father looked the worse for wear since getting out of prison. While he might be wearing a nice pair of jeans and a fresh button-up shirt, his eyes and face betrayed the man beneath the getup. I wasn’t sure I would have noticed the extent of it if I didn’t know what had happened.

“Is that so? Well, I’m going to have to cordially disagree with you, darlin’.”

I startled at the ridiculous term of endearment I’d heard Grant say to me dozens of times. I wondered if he even knew it was something he’d picked up from his father. He’d probably never say it again if he figured it out.

“I’ve been waiting thirteen years to see my son. I don’t mind waiting a little bit longer for him. What did you say your name was?”

I swallowed and raised my chin. “I didn’t.”

He laughed softly. “Fair enough. I’m Mike.”

He held his hand out to me, and I stared at it. I wasn’t stupid enough to touch him. I crossed my hands over my chest and tried to control the dread passing through my system.

“Okay then.” He dropped his hand and then pointed his finger in my direction with a slow deadly smirk plastered on his face. “Just give him my message.”

Grant’s dad walked away toward a beat-up old pickup truck.

Like father, like son.

I instantly felt horrible for even thinking that. Grant was nothing like the man I’d just met. Driving a truck didn’t mean they were similar.

I rushed over to my car, climbed into the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. It was only then that I started to breathe normally. My heart rate was still racing, and I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. I tightly gripped the steering wheel in my hands to try to stop the shaking, but it wasn’t really working.

I blindly reached out for my cell phone stashed at the bottom of my purse. I had to talk to Grant. I had to tell him what had happened. He had said I had to call him if I saw his dad, but I doubt he’d actually thought it would happen.

Oh shit! How could this be happening?