Chapter 27
Grace
I have to be smart about this.
My blood is boiling and my heart beating so fast that I can hardly think straight.
He closed the door, so he obviously didn’t want me to hear this conversation—but I did hear. I didn’t hear all of it, because his voice was muffled behind the closed door, but I heard enough. More than enough.
He talked about me. He said he’d talked to my brother, Tyler. Is he in cahoots with my brothers after all? Were they behind this? But why would they ever allow anyone to do this to me, after they basically locked me away all of my life to keep me safe from their world?
No, it can’t be. They can’t be involved in this.
But then, why is he talking to them?
My head is spinning when I hurry back to the kitchen counter, taking my seat on the same high chair I was sitting on when he left the room. I got as close to the door as the leash would allow, holding my breath as I listened to his phone call, but half of the conversation remains a mystery to me. Just a few more inches and I probably would have been able to make better sense of what I just heard, but not like this.
I’ll have to ask him.
But not before he unfastens that leash from the towel rail. I need to pull myself together and not let him see how unraveled I am.
My hands are shaking when he comes back into the room, so I hide them under the counter, trying to act cool when I throw him a coy look.
“Sorry about that,” he says, barely looking at me before he meanders into the kitchen.
“So, you said you could eat?” he asks, and I get even more angry at his nonchalant demeanor.
“Um, yeah, sure,” I murmur. “But can you unleash me first, so I can sit on the couch? Like you told me to.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment I fear he might see my inner turmoil written all over my face. I’m dizzy with fury and confusion, swallowing hard as I try to calm myself.
But he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t think too much of it, because he does come around the kitchen counter and unclasps the leash from the rail.
“Thanks,” I say, as I slide down from the high chair, placing my hand on his upper arm to give him the treacherous feeling of gratitude. Men are easily manipulated with a subtle touch like this, I know that much.
He regards me with a quick smile, before his expression turns stern again, and he goes back behind the counter—while I move toward the seating area at the other side of the room. However, my eyes are not fixed on the couch, but on the French doors that lead to the outside, my potential way out, if I am fast enough.
I put as much distance as possible between us, before I decide that it’s time to speak up.
“Who was that on the phone?”
I’m careful about the way I voice my question, leisurely sauntering toward the other side of the large room while I throw him a curious look.
“Just work,” he says—and I almost explode on the spot.
“Oh, yeah? Since when are you doing business with my brothers?”
He was just about to open the fridge, but freezes mid-motion and turns around to me, a menacing frown on his face.
“That’s right, I heard!” I yell at him, taking another step back, closer to the door as I point an accusing finger at him. “What the hell did you talk about with Tyler? Why did he come to see you? Are they behind this? Did they tell you to kidnap me and-”
“Grace, please,” he cuts me off, raising both his hands in an appeasing motion. “I don’t know what you heard, but it’s not-”
“Oh, don’t you dare! Don’t lie to me! I know what I heard, you talked to my brother!”
“That wasn’t your brother on the phone, you’re misunderstanding-”
“I didn’t misunderstand anything! I heard you mention his name, you said you talked to Tyler! Admit it! Don’t play me for a fool.”
He sighs, his shoulders slouching as he slowly moves in my direction--and I take a couple more steps away from him.
“Okay, yes, I did talk to Tyler. He came to the ward, because he’s worried about you,” he admits. “But it’s not like you think. Your brothers have nothing to do with this. He threatened me, in fact, told me I have no idea who I’m dealing with.”
He pauses, adding a sinister chuckle before he goes on. “And he’s right. I had no idea who I was dealing with.”
He looks at me, and there’s a short-lived sense of pride swelling in my chest, when I realize that his expression is laced with concern and intimidation.
But that doesn’t change the fact that he lied to me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this betrayed before.
“I don’t believe you,” I hiss. “I can’t believe anything you say.”
“Look, I-”
We both jerk up in surprise when he’s cut off by the doorbell ringing. I’ve never heard it ring once since he brought me here, and judging by the look on his face, he’s not expecting anyone either.
His eyes grow wide in shock when the bell rings again.
“You want to get that?” I ask him, my voice trembling with rage. “Or do you need to lock me up, first?”
He sighs, his gaze flitting back and forth between me and the door.
“No. I don’t have to, do I?” he asks. “I’ll trust you, if you trust me.”
He casts me a cautious look, slanting his eyes as he seemingly tries to read me. A crease emerges between his brows, when the doorbell rings again.
“Please, Grace, I’m trusting you,” he says, already moving away from me. “I will be honest with you and tell you everything. You just have to trust me—like I’m trusting you.”
He waits until I suggest a subtle nod, before he darts out into the hall.
And for a moment, I actually hesitate. There’s a part in me that wants to trust him so badly. I want to trust him. I want to hear what he has to say, and I want to be wrong about all the things that are running through my head right now.
But I can’t. Not after the phone call I just overheard. I don’t want to run, but I have to, don’t I? It’s what any sane person would do in this situation. They wouldn’t even hesitate. This is the first time I’m not under his watch and free to move as I please—and there’s a door right behind my back.
A door, that could be locked.
But if it’s not, I’ll take it as a sign.
I turn around, and my heart sinks when I try the handle, only to realize that the door is in fact, locked. A new surge of excitement comes to life when I notice the key in the lock. It can’t possibly be this easy? I turn it around and this time the door springs open when I try the handle again.
And I run.
I run like I’ve never run before, flying across the cold grass as I flee out to the open garden. I’m not wearing any shoes or socks and the chilly evening air tears on my dress with unyielding force as I sprint for my life. Doubts are still hammering at the back of my head, but it’s too late now. I’m out. I have to keep running, even if every fiber of my being is pulling me back to him.
I must truly be insane.
I have no idea where I am or where I should be going, because it is like he said: There’s nothing and no one around us, no houses, no people, no cars.
Except for the battered truck that I find parked on the side of the road that leads up to the main entrance on the other side. I don’t really want to circle around the house, because he could see me then, but I have to risk it. The truck could belong to whoever was just ringing the doorbell, but as I continue to run in its direction, I notice that there’s a man sitting behind the wheel—and he’s looking right at me.
I start waving, forbidding myself to cry for help just yet. I need to get closer first.
I’m flushed with instant worry when the man steps out of the car, his eyes still fixated on me. He looks to be about the same age as my oldest brother, in his late 20s, maybe early 30s. And he looks rough, to say the least. There’s a large scar on his face, covering most of his left cheek, and he’s wearing a scuffed leather jacket and equally scruffy jeans. He looks filthy and rough, and now that I’m close enough to see his face, I slow down, questioning decision to run up to him.
There’s something off about him—but that realization hits me too late to save myself.
“Little Gracy?” The man says, revealing a smile that’s dabbled with tacky looking gold teeth. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
And before I know it, he jumps at me, wrapping his filthy arms around my body. I cry out when he lifts me up, struggling in his filthy embrace as he drags me to the car.
“Just who I was looking for,” he growls, while my blood freezes with fear.