Needing Grace

17.

Roman's P.O.V

I had entered my dark house. I looked around, seeing if there was any life in the place.

I couldn't find Grace anywhere. Security at work had alerted me when she had left there. I went to the bedroom and saw the grey dress and pink scarf she wore today on the bed.

All week, Grace has been coming in, making a colourful statement with her clothes.

I never noticed everyone else's clothes till she breezed in. Everyone wore blacks and greys, dark colours of purple or blue. Including myself.

But Grace just walks in with bright reds or yellows, eye catching blues, pinks and green.

"Grace?" I called out hesitantly. No answer.

I sat at my desk in my study and booted up my laptop. At least I have peace and quiet while I work.

She had been coming in and trying to start conversations with me. I didn't like that. I didn't want that. She is collateral. That's all.

I set about on my tasks and read a report, losing track of time.

It was my phone vibrating that pulled me to my whereabouts.

The room dark, the sun long gone. I unlocked my phone and opened the message.

After a quick how to guide with a specialist in IT, he had helped me set up alerts whenever someone tags Grace in anything. I need to know of her whereabouts and doings at all time, for the sake of my company.

Then I saw a picture of her come up. She was laughing, with a darker girl and a boy on either side of her.

So she is out, partying. I thought to myself. It is the first time she has done it since being here.

I tapped my fingers on the desk. They have marked where they are at as well. Interesting. I looked at the photo's background. It was dark and silhouettes of people behind them, but not much else.

I looked up the name of the place tagged. It was a club, about ten minutes away. I picked up my car keys and headed to the car.

She will be running my company and or name down if she keeps this up.

I drove to the club and parked. Why am I here? Why do I care what she does?

Because she holds your name.

I picked up my phone and messaged her.

Get outside now.

I stood out by the car and watched the front doors of the place. But there was no sign of Grace.

I fixed up my jacket and walked to the doors. As soon as I opened them, I heard the music flood my ears.

The place was flashing several coloured lights, people everywhere.

"Well, hello," Some woman said to me as I ignored her and kept walking.

I couldn't find her anywhere.

Knowing her, she would be wearing something bright. I looked at all the booths and tables from where I stood, but I couldn't find her.

I ignored all the people trying to talk to me as I stepped away, heading towards the sweat pit of people dancing. My eyes scanned everyone. But I couldn't find her.

Where is she?

I saw a darker lady, the one from the photo, grinding up some one. I checked around her for a blonde, but none of them were Grace.

My six foot three inches was taller then a lot of people here, as I continued looking for Grace.

Then I saw the blonde hair. She turned with a laugh on her face.

Grace.

I saw her stop dancing, looking around her. I saw the concern on her face as she squeezed past people.

I followed her and a male as I watched her grip the chair. She was wearing a black dress. No wonder I had a hard time finding her.

I finally got close enough, I took her wrist and she spun around to me.

I could see that she was about to yell, then she recognised me and she lost her confidence.

"Let's go. We are leaving now." I told her.

"What?" She asked me, rubbing her ear, trying to pull her wrist free.

"Hey mate. Who are you. Get away from her!" A male yelled at me and I turned to him.

"I'm her husband! How much has she had to drink?" I snapped at him.

The bloke sized me up and I did the same.

"Only three drinks."

"Um..." I heard Grace as I ignored her pulling at her arm.

"What has she taken?" I snarled at him. If she isn't drunk, she must be high. I felt her claw at my hand with her free one.

"She hasn't taken anything."

"Look at her! She can't even stand straight." I growled as I heard another grunt from her.

"Let go!" She screamed out.

I turned to her, she didn't look good. Grace was paler then usual, even in the dim light.

"Grace?" I stared at her as my hand released hers and went straight to her back as she went limp.

"What has she taken?" I repeated myself, holding her upright against me.

"Honestly, nothing!" The other male said. Then the darker female came forward.

"What happened?" She asked, concerned as she checked Grace's face.

"I don't know, Macy, she was standing there then she went out." The male answered her. "She stopped dancing and suddenly had difficulty walking."

Macy looked up at her male friend. "Did some one slip her something?"

He shook his head. "I got up and bought her a drink and she took a sip and we danced then this."

That's when Macy looked at me. "I think someone has drugged her."

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