I knew it! There had been money exchanged. Brenda’s life came with a price that the Monroe family paid, and everyone cashed in on.
The guys walk off and down the hall, back to join their party.
I slowly walk out from behind the door and make my way over to the study. It has to have something to prove he did it. I have humiliated myself twice! For what? I let their bullying and sex control me and my feelings. They have manipulated me into believing I was crazy. Not anymore.
Entering the study, I close the door behind me. It’s a large rectangular room with cathedral ceilings. Along the left wall are rows and rows of bookshelves. To the right is a big painting of a dark forest. It hides a safe in the wall. I know because I’ve seen Dax get into it before and take some cash. But it’s also full of jewelry and gold bars.
At the head of the study is a large, dark wooden desk. I lift my dress and make my way over to it. I start opening drawers as fast as I can. The ones that open immediately, I shut because nothing credible will be hidden in those. No, it’ll be somewhere locked up.
I get to the bottom drawer and yank on it. Nothing.
I frantically look around, searching for anything to use to open it. I’m sure the key is on Mr. Monroe himself. Bending down, I grip the handle and put my heels on the one above it and pull, trying to yank it open. But I don’t have any luck.
“Shit!” I hiss, falling to my knees. My shaking hands come to my face. I’m so close to finally exposing all of those pieces of shit for what they really are. I can’t give up now. I’ve already failed Brenda too much.
I need a hammer. That’ll knock this fucking door off.
Making up my mind, I stand and look both ways in the quiet hallway before going to get what I need.
GRAYSON LAW
“You’ve had a good senior year, son.” A man by the name of Richard slaps me on the back.
I hate him. He’s one of my father’s best friends from college, and I hate that he calls me son.
My father laughs. “Dick, undefeated is far from good.”
“Well, they still have playoffs,” Richard argues.
I throw back my champagne flute, wishing it was a joint that I could smoke when my cell vibrates in my tux. I pull it out to see it’s a text to our group from Scout.
Scout: Little doll, where are you? It’s time to play.
I look up and scan the ballroom, searching for her. My dad had a meeting with the Founders and then came down here to bother me.
I spot Lacey over by the bar with the Millers. “Excuse me.” I walk away before my father can tell me no. “May I speak to you for a second?” I ask Lacey.
“Of course.” She excuses herself from Mr. and Mrs. Miller who are too deep in conversation with Governor Link to even care. “What’s up?” she asks.
“Have you seen Henley?” I ask, my eyes still scanning the crowd.
“No. She went to use the restroom, but I haven’t seen her since. That was a while ago. Why?” Her eyes widen. “Is she okay?” Panic laces her words, knowing the last time she was missing, she was found drugged lying on a floor with her shirt ripped.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” I pat her shoulder. “I’ll go look.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Stay here.” I throw back what’s left of my drink and take off in search of her. I check my cell a few times to see if she’s read Scout’s message, but she hasn’t.
I check all the bathrooms on the first floor and come up with nothing. I decide to go upstairs, thinking that maybe she went to Dax’s room. But that too is empty.
I’m walking down the hallway, heading to the grand staircase when I hear someone sniffling in the study. The door is shut, so I twist it and step inside. She’s sitting at Mr. Monroe’s desk with a piece of paper in her hands, and she’s silently crying as her eyes skim over it.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, making her jump. My eyes narrow on her, and I cross my arms over my chest. “What the fuck are you doing, Henley?” Why the fuck would she be in here?
“You need to see this.” She stands and rushes over to me, shoving the paper in my hands.
“Hen …” My eyes scan over it, and I look back up at her. She nods her head quickly as my eyes widen at what she’s fucking found.
“I told you …”
“Law?” Mr. Monroe calls out right before he enters the room. “Henley?” He growls, eyes landing on hers. “What the fuck are you doing in my study?” His eyes fall to the mess on the floor. Pieces of wood scatter the pristine white carpet, and a hammer sits in the middle of it.