Chapter Twenty-Three
R ight behind you,” Duke called out. “Let me just grab these.” He carried a stack of papers with him and I didn’t ask what they were. I beelined for the driver’s door, too impatient to wait for him to drive.
“Tell me on the way,” I said as we slid in and I pulled up directions for the strip club on my phone. Unlike the fuck up next to me, I didn’t know the place.
I sped out of the neighborhood a little too fast. I’m sure we were attracting the wrong kind of attention today, but fuck, if I didn’t get to Grace before that bastard did something to her, I was going to lose my mind.
“These are all letters to Grace,” Duke said as he leafed through the stack he brought.
“Most are from her grandmother. Most of those are unopened with post dates going back years. A few are from a lawyer. All those are opened already, though based on the dates, I’d say Bill opened them and not Grace.
One is from you.” He held up a familiar envelope.
I had used a novelty postage stamp because I thought Grace would enjoy it. It was opened.
My heart clenched. Not only did she not get it, her ex did.
Bile rose in my throat, coating my tongue in the bitter acid and pushing against my teeth to get out.
I didn’t include anything damning in the letter.
Our letters weren’t really like that, but the idea that someone besides Grace opened it and read it made me sick.
“I included my new forwarding address in there,” I said as my hands clenched on the steering wheel and I took a turn almost too fast. I was tempted to burn the place to the ground rather than ever bring Grace back there. Even the threat of Bill tainted the house. Too bad. I liked that place.
“Well, that explains why she stopped writing,” Duke said as he opened the letters from the lawyer and skimmed through them.
“This says the law office has been trying to contact her to review the terms of her trust,” Duke said as he read a page.
“I knew it,” I snarled. “He probably even tried to talk to the lawyer on her behalf and got nowhere. When are those dated?”
“This one is a month ago, but the oldest is dated a year ago.”
“Fuck.”
We pulled onto the deserted road leading to the strip club.
It was fully dark by now and I cut the lights on my car.
I didn’t want to alert them we were coming too soon.
I pulled off into the parking lot of another nearby abandoned building and tucked the car out of sight.
I had to put Tink on Bluetooth and then tucked the headphone into my ear.
We immediately loaded up on gear. I kept the med kit with me. I didn’t think I could let anyone else tend to Grace if she was injured. I was grateful for Duke’s extensive collection of gear. We made our way along the dark side of the road to the abandoned building we hoped Grace was in.
“Heads up,” Tink chimed over the earpiece, “a 911 call came in from the vicinity of the strip club from a number registered to Bill about 3 minutes ago. The call disconnected before the dispatcher picked it up. They called back but didn’t get through.
They are sending a unit out to check. ETA five minutes. County sheriff.”
“Understood,” I responded to Tink as we made it to the building. We had five minutes to secure the building and prepare for police involvement. Three minutes ago, Grace was well enough to call 911, but got caught. Hopefully, she was still well, and they didn’t punish her too badly for her attempt.
Duke led us around to the back entrance of the building. There was a padlock on it, but it was easily broken with a quick hit in just the right place. Stupid master locks. There might as well be no lock at all.
By silent agreement, Duke took the lead into the building since he knew it from his previous experiences here. Guns in hand, we kicked through the last door in the hallway and entered the main room of the club.
Low, sporadic lighting complicated things as I scanned the room for threats. I spotted Grace tied to a pole at the far end of the room. She had bruises spreading across her face and a man I assumed was her ex held her by the hair. He was dead now. I just needed to get to him.
Duke was the other side of the room heading towards another man, perhaps George, and a woman too young to be her mother. I trusted he would take care of them. I headed straight for the only thing here that mattered. Grace.
“Get your hands off her, fucker,” I growled as I approached the two. I trained my gun on Bill’s center mass, but he stood too close to Grace to risk hitting her. I didn’t move the gun, though. I just prepared myself in case I had to put it away and use my fists.
He didn’t move at first, his fist still tightly wound in Grace’s hair.
Eventually, he turned and stared at me, fists raised, a snarl marring his already ugly face.
That was fine. I couldn’t wait to beat this man to a bloody pulp.
He drew up short when he caught sight of my gun.
I was still too far away to grab him and he knew it.
He moved to stand behind Grace, using her as a human shield. Fucking coward.
“Stop,” I commanded him. He didn’t listen. He just grabbed Grace’s hair again and produced a long knife from God knew where.
“I don’t think I will,” Bill said as he held the knife to Grace’s throat. My heart seized. One wrong move and she was gone. I holstered my gun and inched my way closer.
“Just put the knife down,” I said cautiously. “Grace isn’t any good to you dead.”
I hoped reminding him that she could still be of use to him would work.
“Like I’m getting my way now,” he said as he pulled her hair again. She let out a muffled cry. I inched forward again.
“If you let Grace go, we won’t involve the police,” I said.
He didn’t know the police were almost here.
He just needed the let go of Grace. “You can go on your way and then we can meet under better circumstances to negotiate a deal. Let her go, and we will get you what you want.” I said.
I needed his guard down enough to get to him.
He relaxed his hold. Just enough to let me know he thought about it.
Just enough to give me the second I needed to rush him and knock him to the ground.
I heard the knife clang to the floor before my fist slammed into his face.
The impact rocking through my hand like a baptism of pain and satisfaction as his nose crumbled under my fist. Red clouded my vision as I rained my fury down on him for daring to touch what was mine.
“Anders,” a familiar voice whimpered in the distance and I drew up short.
Grace. Shame at losing cooled the rage burning through me.
I’d knocked Bill out cold. Blood ran down his face and I didn’t know which of us the blood on my fist belonged to.
“Anders. He’s out. I’m safe. Help me get free.
” She begged desperately, pain coloring her voice. Shit.
She shouldn’t have had to fucking beg. I couldn’t believe I lost control like that. I threw Bill back on the ground and rushed over to where she was tied up to the pole. I kicked the knife away from her and away from Bill, in case he woke up and got any bright ideas.
“Who’s that woman?” I asked to distract us while I started untying her.
“Kaye. She’s pregnant. The baby is Bill’s. She said this was her plan, but didn’t realize I was awake,” she slurred, her voice weak. Fuck. What did they do to her? I scanned the room, keeping the bastards that did this in my sight while I worked for free her.
Duke holstered his gun to tie up the woman. He’d already tied up George. When he finished with Kaye, he came over and dragged Bill to their pile of evil and tied him up as well, just in case.
I came around to Grace’s front and took stock of her.
I could see blood welling on her lip. The bruises I saw earlier covered the side of her face from hairline to jaw like she had been punched repeatedly.
I stopped regretting unleashing hell on Bill.
Her pupils seemed odd, and we were going to have to get her checked for a concussion and drugs in her system. “Fuck.”
“It’s ok, Anders,” she said. “You’re here now and I’m safe. I’m alive.” She seemed alert despite the obvious head wounds. Good.
I realized then that I hadn’t cut her feet free and grabbed my knife to slice through the zip ties. My hands shook as I re-sheathed my knife and examined her legs.
“Where else are you hurt? What did they do?” I couldn’t suppress the feral tone of my words.
She raised her bloody hand to my cheek. The warmth of her hand seeped into me, urging me to look at her. I did. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she held my gaze steadily.
“Deep breaths,” she said. “Do you need to count?”
I laughed at that. It was harsh and short. Was she really asking me this right now? Her blood was outside her body and she wanted me to calm down?
“No,” I bit out, but did it anyway.
“Good,” she said as she pet my face, calming me more with every brush of her fingers on my cheek. “When you’re ready, my wrists need bandaging and they gave me chloroform after they tried to knock me out by punching me. My ribs hurt a little. I don’t think anything else can be tended to right now.”
The deep breaths helped. I spent a decade in the Marines dealing with the most stressful situations the government could manufacture and somehow none of it prepared me for seeing her like this.
“Let me see them,” I said, steadier than before.
I lifted my hand to hers where it rested on my face and brought it around with the other to examine them.
They were so bloody and torn that I couldn’t tell exactly where the damage was.
I pulled a water bottle from my bag and poured it over the wounds so I could see what I needed to do.
I used gauze to dab away the bloody water and saw the mangled skin that hid underneath.
I gently wrapped a fresh bandage around each wrist, applying enough pressure to slow any further bleeding.
She would need to be checked by professionals, though.
“You tried to get free,” I said as I realized why her wrists were so bad.
“I did get free,” she said. She sounded proud of herself.
“Good girl,” I lifted her face and examined at her eyes again. They looked clearer and more alert than just a few minutes ago. Good.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead. She smelled like sweat and blood and vomit and Grace.
“I’m going to take you to the hospital and have you checked out.
I want to make sure there aren’t any lingering effects from your head wounds and the chloroform and have them check out your wrists, and see if you need stitches.
” I wasn’t sure who my words were supposed to calm more, me or her. Maybe both.
“Anders?” she asked. Her voice sounded tired.
“Yes, baby?”
“Hold me.”
“God yes.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my lap. She burrowed down into me as if she could hide herself inside me, fitting perfectly in my arms, like she was fucking made for me.
It wasn’t until that moment that I allowed myself to acknowledge just how terrified I was that I would never see her again. My hands shook as I ran them down her back, a lump forming in my throat at just the thought of losing her.
I could see the officer taking down statements and calling in backup. I hadn’t even noticed when he showed up. Duke stood guard over Bill, George, and Kaye. He looked over at me briefly and I nodded to him. I could never thank him enough for his work here tonight.
“Tink?” I asked the voice in my ear.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You know we would do anything for you,” he said in a subdued voice now that the action was over.
“I know. Me, too.”
Grace looked up at me then. “Tink?” She asked and then comprehension lit up her eyes when she saw my Bluetooth headphones. “Oh. Tell him thank you from me.” She sounded so tired. I smiled down at her.
“He heard you.” She nodded her head and then closed her eyes.
We weren’t done with all this. There was still the news from her grandmother, and was sure the police would want a statement, but all I wanted was to take Grace home and curl around her like I’d been dying to do since I first laid eyes on her.
I didn’t think I would let her out of my sight anytime soon.