Page 56 of My Sweet Poison
My eyes sprang open; it all came back to me.
Not only was Jameson alive, but Greyson had been the one to help him fake his death. He wouldn’t help me save Madison. Pierce had her, and someone needed to help her and that someone had to be me.
How the hell was Jameson still alive? What did Greyson gain from helping him? He may have looked like Superman, but that man was more Lex Luthor with good hair plugs.
There would be plenty of time for guilt-ridden tirades over a glass of wine later. Or a bottle... maybe two.
Right now, I had to get out of here and find Madison.
I went for my back pocket, but my cell phone wasn’t there. Greyson must have taken it.
Glancing to the side, I could see it wasn’t on the nightstand. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. There also wasn’t a clock. I had absolutely no idea how long I had been asleep or what time it could be.
My gaze swung to the door.
It was closed, but perhaps he underestimated how long I’d be out. Maybe I’d finally get lucky and he left it unlocked.
I searched the darkness of the room, using the bits of dim, fragmented light seeping around the heavy curtains at the windows to seek any signs of movement. There were none.
I was alone. At least I thought I was…
I tilted my head back to survey the ceiling and each corner of the room, looking for security cameras or a telltale blinking red light. Rich assholes were known for liking their high-end security, and a red blinking light tended to clash with old money decor.
I didn’t see any, but that was no guarantee.
Keeping the rest of my body still, I slithered my arm out from under the coverlet and swiped at the glass of water on the nightstand.
It fell to the floor with a loud thump. Not exactly the shattering distraction I was hoping for, but it was enough.
I waited…afraid to breathe…as I listened. And listened. I didn’t sense anyone.
Still concerned about cameras, I slid to the foot of the bed and crawled out from under the covers. Keeping low, I crept on my hands and knees over to the massive bay window. Furniture threw shadows that shifted when the wind nudged the curtains. I flinched twice at shapes that turned out to be a wardrobe and a standing mirror. I stayed along the wall and worked my wayto the pane furthest to the left. After pushing the heavy damask curtain aside, I peered out.
An unrelenting cold rain gave an air of gothic gloom to the carefully manicured gardens below. I flipped the latch. After checking over my shoulder, I gingerly slid the window sash up. An icy gust of wind cut through my blouse and made my teeth rattle as I poked my head out.
I scanned the grounds as well as the side of the house. Damn. I was easily three stories high. Even if I could get to the drainpipe a few feet to the right, it would be far too dangerous to try to shimmy down its wet metal.
“Are you so tired of my company that you would risk plummeting to your death to escape me?”
I yanked my head back inside so quickly I stumbled backward, my body heavy and sluggish with exhaustion and the remaining toll of the Scotch. I tried to catch myself and instead landed hard on my ass.
Greyson was standing only a few feet away, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pajama pants. His chiseled, tattooed chest on full display. He didn’t say anything or offer a hand to help me up. Just raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.
“I want to leave.”
“Now, why would you want to do something like that?” His tone suggested we were discussing wine with dinner, not him holding me against my will.
I would not take the bait.
He knew damn well why.
I gripped the back of a nearby chair and rose. My full height only brought me up to his shoulder. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
Greyson smiled. “Wanna bet, little bird?”
CHAPTER 26
SKYLAR
