Chapter Nineteen
N ow that the serious job of baking is out of the way,” I said as we took our seats. “I have more information for you. Provided you want to hear it.” I noticed she didn’t sit as far from me as she could, but curled up like a cat and faced me. The only thing between us was the mug of tea she sipped.
“Yes. I think I can handle it.” She blew on the tea and then took a sip and moaned softly at the taste. “I missed you, tea,” she whispered to the mug. I smiled in amusement and tried not to get sidetracked by the sound of her pleasure.
“Tink thinks he’s uncovered everything there is to find. Bill and George have been hiding quite a bit of things through shell companies,” I started. I didn’t sugarcoat anything this time. She deserved to know what her ex has been up to.
“Shell companies?” She asked, clearly surprised by the information. “They don’t own any companies.”
“We couldn’t find where they own any legitimate companies,” I clarified. “But they’ve been moving money around for years from one place to another.”
“But,” she started. Stopped. Drank some tea. Started again. “Ok. So, Bill has been hiding money from me.”
“Not only that,” I continued, “there have been several large withdrawals in the last few years and there isn’t much left in the accounts we’ve linked directly to Bill.”
“So Bill is hiding money from me and he’s going broke.” She set the mug down and leaned forward with her arms on her legs. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”
“There’s more,” I said, and I pulled up my phone to show her the proof of this one.
“How can there be more?” She said with a pained laugh and she turned back towards me.
“Apparently, he’s been gambling.” I showed her recent footage of Bill at a casino high roller table. I didn’t ask Tink how he got this information. On his lap was a young woman in a tight green dress that rode dangerously high on her thighs.
She took my phone from me and stared at the picture.
I let her look as long as she needed. “I guess it’s a good thing I already left him.
Though maybe I should get tested just to be safe.
” She didn’t show much emotion with this, and I was a little worried about her reaction.
She finally handed the phone back to me, picked up her tea again, and took a sip.
She held it a little higher and a little tighter than before, like it was a shield that would guard against the news she had received.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish I didn’t have to share that with you.”
“The news isn’t great, but I’m glad you shared it.
I needed to hear it,” she finally said as she met my eyes.
The corners of her mouth pulled up in a sad smile.
I vowed to myself then that when this was all over, she would never have a reason to wear a smile like that again.
“So, what does all this have to do with people trying to kidnap me?”
“We think he’s run out of funds and is in deep with some loan sharks,” I said.
“He seems to have disappeared. That footage is the last time he was recorded anywhere Tink can find and his credit cards haven’t been used since, either.
The loan sharks could have gotten to him and he could have thrown you under the bus with him, or he could be trying to get you so he can get money to pay off the loan sharks. ”
“I don’t know what money they expect to find,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. “What does George have to do with any of this?” She asked. I liked that she asked questions and didn’t just hide from the information.
“Maybe nothing,” I answered. “Maybe he’s pissed Bill blew all the money and is the one behind all of it and not Bill or some loan sharks.
” I shrugged. “The accounts that used to be linked to both of them dried up a few years ago. Either George pulled all the money out and cut financial ties with Bill or Bill spent it all.”
“You mean gambled it all,” she said bitterly.
The timer went off just then for the last batch of cookies.
Grace got up to pull them out of the oven and transfer them to a cooling rack, which I didn’t even know was something that existed until today.
She brought back some cookies with her so we could eat them hot.
They were my love spell cookies. I gave her my cockiest and best smile when she passed them to me, just to see how she would react. She didn’t even blush.
I took a bit of our creation and the spices hit my tongue first. They were — too much. I choked down my bite and then laughed at the face Grace made when she bit into her cookies.
“I can admit when I’m wrong. You were right, that was too much spice,” I said as I lifted the cookie for another bite.
This time I could taste the honey and the contrast between the sweet honey and strong spice was pleasant.
I finished the cookie and reached for the one Grace abandoned and finished that off, too.
“Seems like you don’t mind too much,” she snickered when I polished off the second cookie.
“Well, I had to see the spell through, right?” I said with a wink.
Her returned laughter was bright and clear. Her smile faded quickly, though. The weight of all that is happening keeping it from lasting.
“What are we going to do about Bill? How do we get more information? How do we end this?” She asked, her voice seeming more determined with each question.
“Those are excellent questions,” I said, trying to buy myself a little time to find a good answer.
“You don’t know,” she surmised rather quickly.
I shook my head. Failing Grace would eviscerate me, but giving her false hope wouldn’t help.
Bill hid enough that finding what we needed to tie him to the threats against her, and end it was like groping around in the dark.
We might land on what we need, but we were more likely to knock over the lamp and let him know we were looking for him.
“What can I do to help?”
“Stay safe and let me figure it out.”
“I’m serious, Anders,” she said as she curled back up.
How did women squeeze themselves into the smallest little balls when they sat down?
“This is my life and I’m grateful for the help.
I wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for your help, but you don’t have to fix it all.
We are a team.” She said it like it was so simple.
“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” I said on a whisper. The words wrenched from my being by some invisible force. “Let me take care of this, Grace. Let me take care of you.”
She gave me a soft look and moved closer to me on the couch. “You are taking care of me.” She reached out and placed her hand on my arm. “You have taken care of me from the moment I showed up on your doorstep.”
A part of myself that I routinely ignored clawed at my chest to get free.
The part of myself that I buried under duty, or maybe it’s the part of me born from what came after.
It was ugly and selfish and cruel. It wanted to lock Grace away from everything.
It wanted to wail and scream and tear through anything that could harm her.
It was the part of me that led me to the end when I got blown up.
I saved those kids, but what if I couldn’t save Grace?
An image came to me then of Grace lying in that road blown to pieces by the IED. I was running to her, but couldn’t reach her. My feet were trapped by quicksand. I heard her screams and smelled burning hair and skin. I couldn’t get there. I couldn’t save her.
“Anders,” she said softly. Her hand had moved to my face and cupped my cheek. “Are you with me?”
My body demanded air, and I took a big gulp. The smell of cookies and spice and Grace flooded me, chasing away the horror, back to the far reaches of my mind where I could bury it once more.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said. My throat was raw, like I had been screaming. Hell, maybe I had. I wanted to get up, I wanted to run, I wanted to get away from her. She didn’t need to see this. She didn’t need to see me weak.
“Good,” she left her hand on my face, gently running her fingers through my stubble. “I’m safe and so are you.”
The role reversal wasn’t lost on me. How many times had I had to help her through a panic attack since I met her? Too many, given that it had only been a week.
I took another breath and realized her other hand rested on my chest, the weight of it centering me. I don’t know when she put it there, but I reached up and grabbed that hand, holding onto it like it would anchor me to this world.
I didn’t run. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I sat right there and let her pet me and soothe me.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, embarrassment threatening to take over.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered. “How many times have you helped me through the same?”
“Yeah, but I’m the marine.” I tried to joke.
“Which just means you have had to deal with more than most.”
She was too fucking good for me. I knew that and I didn’t care. I wanted it all.
We sat there for a time. My breathing had returned to normal, but she didn’t remove her hands from me. She had moved one hand from my face to play with my hair, but the hand I held in my grip was still there. She hadn’t so much as twitched to take it back.
“When I first got home,” I said after a long silence.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to say this, but some force drove me to open up to her, anyway.
“That happened all the time.” I swallowed once and then continued.
“I didn’t have such a pretty lady to help me through it.
” I tried to smile at her, but landed on a strained and awkward grimace.
Grace just sat and listened to me. She didn’t prompt me to continue. She didn’t try to make anything right.
“I think while I was actually in the Marines, I could push everything I’d seen over the years down. I focused on the next mission and forgot about the last.”
She still just sat there, running her fingers through my hair.
“I thought I was better. I thought I had worked through it.” That admission hurt the most. That admission showed I was weak . “I guess not.”
I didn’t know where to go from here. I didn’t know how to keep my head in the game if my brain betrayed me. How could I keep her safe when war haunted my every thought?
She still didn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t know what to say.
How do you find the right thing to say to that?
I expected her to pull back in pity or revulsion.
She didn’t move, though. Her hands were warm and soothing on me.
She hadn’t run screaming. Instead, she raised her chin and pursed her lips, determination lighting her features.
“I think,” she said tentatively before she licked her lips and continued. “We have to take care of each other.”
She may have said it cautiously, but the look in her eyes told me she was set in that course. She wanted to take care of me just as much as I took care of her.
I haven’t had that since my mom died. A lodestone sat on my chest where the weight of her death drew me towards danger and recklessness.
It weighed me down as much as it drove me on.
It was right below Grace’s hand. Somehow, she had unerringly found the exact spot I kept my grief and had provided a barrier for me between it and the world that would drag me under.
“I think you’re right,” I said in a whisper.
I sat there uncomfortable with this maudlin side of myself, but unwilling to dislodge her touch and disrupt whatever soft glow had come over us. Maybe it was the cookies. Maybe the spell worked, after all. Maybe all would be well and this would never have to end.