Chapter 151
Alex's POV
"I'm sure of it," Ethan looked up at me, and I saw genuine confusion warring with certainty in his eyes. "But that doesn't make any sense. He was sentenced to twenty-five years to life. No chance of parole for fifteen years. He should still be locked up."
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it and opened the text from my contact: Got a hit. Sending you the file now.
I opened the attachment, already knowing what I was going to find but needing to see it confirmed. The information loaded on the screen—name, photo, criminal record. And there it was, exactly as Ethan had said.
Name: Jack Grey
Relationship: Father
Status: Incarcerated - 25 years to life, no parole eligibility until year 15
Current location: [REDACTED] State Correctional Facility
I felt my blood run cold as I scanned down to the final line of the report.
Note: Subject flagged as escaped prisoner. Manhunt active as of 72 hours ago.
"Jesus Christ," I breathed, turning the phone toward Ethan.
He read the screen, and I watched the last trace of color drain from his face as the impossible became horrifyingly real.
"He escaped," Ethan said, his voice hollow. "He broke out, and he came straight for her."
I looked back down at the phone screen, at the name and the mugshot, trying to reconcile what I was seeing with what I thought I knew about Emily's past.
"I didn't even know her father was still alive," I said slowly, the words feeling strange in my mouth. "In two years, she never once mentioned him. I just assumed he'd died when she was young or something."
Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to the guest room opened and Mason stepped out, his face drawn and exhausted. He looked between the two of us, reading the tension in the air immediately.
"She's asleep," he said quietly, then hesitated. "What's going on?"
I gestured for him to join us, and when he was close enough, I turned the phone screen toward him. He looked at the information, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"Her father," Ethan said, his voice rough. "The man who attacked her tonight."
Mason's eyes widened, darting between us. "I don't understand."
Ethan ran a hand through his hair and sank down onto the couch, his shoulders heavy with the weight of old knowledge neither Mason nor I shared.
"That's because she doesn't talk about him," he said quietly. "Ever. I only know because I was there—back in high school, when everything came to a head." He paused, his jaw working like the memories were physically painful to access. "Her father started abusing her and her mother when Emily was just a kid. Beatings, threats, the whole nightmare. It went on for years. Emily grew up in that house, never knowing when he was going to explode next."
I felt my stomach turn as the pieces started falling into place—Emily's hypervigilance, her need for control, the way she sometimes flinched before catching herself when someone moved too quickly near her.
"Senior year of high school," Ethan continued, his voice getting rougher, "things escalated. Her father got into some kind of altercation and killed a man. I don't know all the details—Emily never wanted to talk about it—but the police came, and he was arrested. Tried. Convicted. He was sentenced to twenty-five years to life."
He looked up at us, and I saw the same cold fury in his eyes that I'd felt earlier. "That was the first time in her entire life that Emily was safe. The first time she could go to sleep without wondering if she'd wake up to her father's fists."
Mason had gone completely pale, one hand pressed against his mouth. "And now he's out," he whispered.
"He escaped," I said, my voice hard. "Seventy-two hours ago, according to this report. And he tracked her down."
"So he's on the run," Mason said slowly, his voice shaking. "And he came after Emily. Why? What does he want?"
"I don't know," I said, though I had a pretty good idea. Men like Jack Grey didn't escape prison and track down their daughters out of fatherly affection. He wanted something—money, leverage, revenge, or all three—and he'd proven tonight that he was willing to use violence to get it. "But we're going to find out."
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. "She didn't tell us," he said, and there was a note of hurt in his voice that I understood all too well. "She came home bleeding and terrified, and she didn't say a word. She wouldn't even tell us who did it."
"Because she's scared," Mason said quietly, his hands twisting together in his lap. "She's scared of what he'll do if she talks. That's how it works when you've been—when someone's hurt you like that. You don't tell, because you know it'll make things worse."
I looked at him sharply, recognizing the tone of his voice. Mason had been through his own hell before Emily found him, and he understood the psychology of abuse in a way Ethan and I couldn't fully grasp. He knew what it felt like to be trapped by fear, to believe that silence was the only way to survive.
"Then we don't make her tell us," I said, my voice cold and decisive. "We already know who he is. We already know what he did. Now we figure out where he is, and we make sure he never gets near her again."
"How?" Ethan asked. "If he's on the run, he's not going to be sitting around waiting for us to find him. And if we go to the police—"
"We're not going to the police," I said flatly. "Not yet. Not until we know what we're dealing with."
"Alex—"
"Think about it, Ethan," I said, cutting him off. "He escaped from prison. He tracked her down. He assaulted her in a public parking lot and then just… disappeared. He's either desperate or he's got a plan, and either way, involving the police right now could put Emily in more danger. If he thinks she's talking to law enforcement, he might escalate. And if he's already threatened her—which I'm guessing he has, given how terrified she is—then we need to tread very carefully."
Ethan's jaw worked, and I could see the frustration and helplessness warring on his face. He wanted action. He wanted to fix this. But he also knew I was right.
"So what do we do?" he asked finally.