Greyson snatched Indianna’s phone out of her hand and he stiffened. “He’s been texting you!” He growled. “Why the f**k didn’t you tell me?”
Indianna’s eyes were locked on the phone in Greyson’s hand. “He killed my dad,” she whispered. “He...” Indianna wrapped her hand round her scarred wrist and Greyson frowned—realising now was not the time to be angry at Indianna. He needed to be there for her. He pocketed her phone and wrapped his arms round her, resting his chin on her head. “He killed my dad.”
“Shh,” Greyson whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to worry you.”
“He attacked me,” she whispered and buried her face in his chest.
“He’s not going to hurt you ever again. I promise,” Greyson said lowly.
“He’s here,” she said shakily. “He’s been following me. How else is
