I wait until the minute he straightens up. I imagine his hand drawing back as he plans where he will strike me. And then my mouth opens and I feed him the words he thinks he wants.

“‘Hashtag time to delete. I’m over it. Have a nice life, bitches.’”

I look up at the masked man to see what he thinks.

“Delete?”

I nod. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to do it since I left Saint Thomas. I want to stop all this. So type that and delete the account.”

I know he’s got a mask on, but I swear to God, I see him smile.

Asshole. He’s just another asshole who thinks with his dick.

“You’re done with Vaughn Asher?”

“So done.”

“He married you.”

That’s right, let’s play, you psycho. I keep my edge hard, I make myself stare him in the eyes. And then I tell him what he wants to hear. “Vaughn can’t marry me. I’m already married. To you.”

Chapter Three

I KNOCK again. “Gra-aaace.” I blow out a breath of air and look over my shoulder at Bigmy. “She’s still here, right? I mean, she never left last night.”

“She never left, boss. Someone was here all night.”

“What time did you leave?”

“Hmmm.” He hums as he thinks. “The guard from Ray’s team relieved me around midnight, I think? I got called back after a few hours. You were already asleep on the couch. The doorman saw me.”

I knock again, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach can’t be denied.

Something is wrong.

“Grace,” I call out, pressing my forehead to the wooden door. “Answer me or I’m coming in.”

I press my ear up against the door and listen.

Nothing.

“Here.” I thrust the coffee and muffin at Bigmy and fish through my pocket for the key to Grace’s apartment. I push it into the lock and twist the handle. “Grace?” Maybe she’s sleeping. I walk into the entryway and then turn down the hallway where her bedroom is. The cat comes out of the door, meowing. “Hey, kitty. Where’s Grace?” The cat rubs up against my leg and I peek into the room.

Nothing.

“Fuck. Bigmy, what the fuck? She’s not here!”

“Let me check the rest of the apartment.”

He goes off to do that while I call Ray. He picks up on the first ring. “Yup.”

“Ray, she’s gone. Did you see her leave last night?”

“No. She never left. We had guys outside, both front and back. And the paparazzi was here all night too. They’d have seen her.”

“Not here,” Bigmy says as he comes back into her bedroom. “No signs of a struggle.”

“Did she get any calls last night, Ray?”

“Let me log in and see. I’m on my way up.”

I end the call with Ray and take my attention back to Bigmy. “Who was the guard last night?”

“I’m new, Mr. Asher. I don’t know your men. He had a security badge. Ray sent him up. He came up from downstairs.”

“You said you left around midnight, so why were you called back?”

“He said his wife needed him and could I fill in his shift. I said OK.”

Ray comes down the hallway, breathless from running up three flights of stairs. “She got a text, Vaughn. Two, last night.”

“Who from?”

He throws up his hands. “Unknown number. The first one told her to come up on the roof.”

A shooting pain runs across my shoulders as I tense up.

“She must’ve hesitated, because she didn’t text back. So the next message asked if she was coming. That’s it. That’s all there was.”

“What time?”

“Twelve twenty-five.”

I push past them and run down the hallway. I exit the apartment and take the stars up to the roof three at a time. The door is not even closed all the way.

“Fuck. You didn’t secure the roof? The buildings next door are all connected. This is a huge fail!” I look at Ray like he’s an incompetent asshole and he goes still.

“Boss, look—”

“She’s been fucking kidnapped! That freak came and got her. Took her right out of her apartment and you assholes never even saw him!”

“Vaughn,” Ray says, his hands up, palms out, like he’s warding me off. “We have cameras in all the hallways like you requested. We can look at the footage—”

“Then go look at it, Ray! For fuck’s sake! She’s been missing all goddamned night! Go check the fucking footage!”

“You think the guard was the kidnapper?” Bigmy asks.

I watch Ray as he disappears down the stairs and then turn back to Bigmy. “Do you?”

“We should call the police.”

A ping distracts me from any thoughts of the police. It’s coming from Grace’s desktop. I walk over to her desk and stare at the screen.

“Twitter,” Bigmy says.

“Yes, thank you. I can see it’s Twitter.” But the part I’m having trouble with is that Grace just posted an update.

Grace @FilthyBlueBird

#TimeToDelete. I’m over it. Have a nice life, bitches.

I take out my phone and press Grace’s number. Is it possible she just left? She walked out on me? She walked away from her whole life?

No.

No, she’d never do that.

Except she already did once. She got herself a new identity and walked into the sunset, leaving behind everything she ever knew.

I bend over the desktop and grab the mouse, then click refresh on her profile page.

Sorry, that page doesn’t exist!

She did it. She deleted her account.

My phone buzzes in my hand. I press accept and put it to my ear. “Yeah.”

“We got the footage. She leaves her apartment at twelve thirty-five and never comes back.”

“How the fuck does that happen, Ray?”

“Vaughn, I was here for eighteen hours yesterday. I have to sleep sometimes. This guy on camera, he’s legit. He’s my guy.”

“So where is he? Bring him in. I want to talk to him.”

“I already called him. He’s on his way.”

“Good. You let me know where he gets here.”

“Should I call the police? Or should we wait and see?”