Page 17 of Shattered Souls
“Nope. He won’t have a clue, but we’ll be able to see everything he does.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Blue.” Royce hangs up but continues moving the mouse around the screen. I watch on as he goes through Bertram’s search history and scours through the files on his computer.
“Anything?” I ask impatiently after a few moments.
Royce shakes his head. “Computer’s clean. Looks like it’s new—there’s barely anything on it, but at least we can see now what he’s doing on it.”
My nose scrunches. “Why do we wanna see whatever sick shit he does on his computer?”
Swiveling in the chair, Royce pierces me with a droll look. “Cause he’s a sick, slimy fuck who is up to no good. I want to know what the fuck he’s up to.” He gives a casual shrug. “And if we happen to catch him doing something that would get him sent back to prison…” He grins savagely, butholy fucking shit.Thatis genius!
Much more invested now, I lean over the back of Royce’s chair to peer at the screen. Not that I know what the fuckI’m looking at. Beyond doing assignments on my laptop and scouring the web, I have no technological interest.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing at an app on his desktop with the Bentley symbol, the same as the brand-spanking new car Grayson said he’s now driving around in.
“Looks like an app for his car, probably so he can update the maps and entertainment center,” Royce answers.
“So it might show us where he’s been since he was released?”
With a shrug, Royce clicks on the app. Immediately, a map showing the car's latest coordinates pops up—to the restaurant where he’s having dinner with Gray and Riley.
“Clickall journeys,”I tell Royce, pointing at the button. He’s already spotted it and clicks, bringing up a list of the car’s previous journeys. There aren’t many since he’s only owned the car for a few days.
Scrolling to the bottom of the short list, the first journey is from the dealership to the prison, where the car had been dropped off in time for Bertram’s release.Like, seriously? The guy couldn’t have taken a cab?
“That must be him arriving on our doorstep,” I say, indicating the journey from the prison to Halston. “And look, he made a five-minute journey to somewhere else in Halston before coming here.”
When you click on the journey, the map shows a street in the center of Halston, and the blue dot shows exactly where he was. Bringing up the maps on his phone, Royce street views the location. It brings up a corner shop on a street populated with individual shops, cafes, and apartment buildings. He shrugs. “He probably stopped to pick up condoms or something.”
“Gross.” I grimace, immediately losing interest. “If there’s nothing else, can we get out of here?”
There’s a ping from the computer, and a notification pops up telling us the car is on the move.
“Looks like dinner is over,” Royce states. “That’s our cue to leave.”
Fucking finally.
After closing out of the app, Royce puts the computer to sleep, and we ensure everything is as it was when we walked in before we sneak out of the house the way we entered. When we’re back in the car, Royce messages Blue, who reactivates the security system.
And it’s like we were never there.
“Where the fuck are they?” I growl, pacing the length of the kitchen and back. Every time I pass the door into the hall, I peer through it, but there’s still no fucking sign of Riley or Grayson.
Redialing Grayson’s number for the gazillionth time, I put it on speaker as I continue pacing. It rings outagain, and I immediately dial Riley. It also rings out, and snarling, I glare down the hall to the front door.
“Will you fucking chill? You’re making me dizzy with all your pacing,” Royce huffs from where he’s hunched over the kitchen island on his phone.
“They should have been home ages ago!”
“And if something had happened, we’d know.” Lifting his head to pierce me with a stern expression as I walk past, he adds, “We have to trust Gray with her.”
“They’re dynamite when left alone. I love Gray, but his asshole ways aren’t what she needs after whatever will have happened at that dinner.”
“Maybe not, but they need to work out their differences and learn to get along. If not for each other and our sanity, then forAurora. They have a lot of history to sift through, but if they’re talking, that’s a good start. Just let them do their thing.”
Teeth grinding, I pace in silence until I hear the sound of a key in the front door. I wheel in time to see Riley step into the hallway, and I freeze. My eyes round as they drop to her dirt-covered feet before slowly climbing to her red, dirt-caked knees, up to the red and purple marks on her neck before landing on her flushed cheeks and messy hair.
“That does not look like fuckingtalking,” I snap at Royce before raising my voice so they can hear me—or more specifically, soGraysonhears me. “What. The. Fuck. Happened?!” I bellow, marching toward Riley and yanking her away from him.
