Grace #2
“Oh my God. You…” I point at him. “All of this is because of you. You managed to get another lunatic breathing down my neck. Take me to Tulsa. To Cyrus. I’ll be safe with him.”
Chase smiles derisively. “Cyrus,” he says, pure gall. “Haven’t you thought a few things through, Grace?”
My jaw tightens.
“Don’t you dare bad-mouth him. Cyrus is a good man—better than you.”
“I don’t want to, but no one says no to Lucas.”
“Not even you.” It’s more a statement than a question.
“Not even me.”
“You have a fantastic brother.”
“Like your sister’s any better.” His gaze bores into mine. I shudder, like I’ve been shocked. Nikky.
A cold ache spreads through my chest. Icy raindrops lash my sensitive face, and hard gusts of wind tear through my heavy, soaked clothes.
My socks are drenched in filthy rainwater.
I have no idea where we are. The only time I can see more than a couple of yards is when a bolt of lightning rips through the black sky.
I sweep the wet strands of hair from my face.
The pieces I’ve been trying not to fit together snap into place.
I remember what Jamie told me once, laughing in my face.
“Should I call Cyrus?”
“Your cop friend? He can’t help you. The man I work for has the local police in his pocket.”
The realization crushes me to pieces.
“It was him. It was you!”
Chase looks at me from the corner of his eye. His features harden. His eyes go stern, his lips pulled tight.
I lift my left arm and punch him. Tears flood my eyes, and my lips tremble. Pain tears through me in waves.
“He killed Jamie!” I scream. “Your brother killed my brother!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I wipe my nose with my wrist. “Who are you? How can your brother have this much power?”
So many questions ricochet through my head I don’t even know where to start. I want answers about what’s happened over the past few years. Cyrus and Ortíz didn’t tell me, and I didn’t dig deep enough.
Chase appears to have changed. In part. He seems calmer, more measured. He’s no longer the twenty-year-old boy who kidnapped me.
“Tell me everything about Cyrus!” I demand. “He told me he pulled a few strings so I wouldn’t have to go down to the station and give a statement after you killed four men.”
Chase snorts. “That cop doesn’t have that kind of pull.
He’s a pawn in Lucas’s game, too. The whole department’s in Lucas’s pocket.
Everyone has a weak spot, and Lucas uses it.
Cyrus might be physically strong, but against a network like my brother’s…
he’s a small fish among sharks. He’s just an ordinary cop.
But he’s got guts. He’s said no to my brother more than once. And that’s why—”
“Greta,” I whisper, dazed.
Chase nods.
“Your brother has no right to do this! And you had no right to do what you did, either! I don’t know what you think you are, but… you can’t do this to people!”
“There’s no one who can stop us.”
“You’re wrong!”
He’s suddenly in front of me. My head slams into his chest. I bounce back and tilt my face up to meet his eyes. Cold raindrops lash our faces.
“Prove it.” His lips pull into a scornful, lopsided smile.
My jaw tightens.
“Where is Ortíz’s son?” I demand, teeth clenched.
“Somewhere safe.”
“He’s only a child, Chase. You can’t do this. You can’t kill him. You can’t just kill anyone who touches me!”
“Cause and effect, Grace.”
“Just like the beatings?” Chase had no idea how much damage he’d done to my heart.
“I had to, Grace. If I hadn’t, he might’ve taken you from me for good. And he’s not exactly known for mercy.”
“You had to? No one had to do it! You’re manipulating me—making excuses for your behavior! You could’ve let me go! You never should’ve kidnapped me in the first place! You stole my life!” I scream at him out here in the middle of nowhere.
“If I’d let you go, you would’ve told the police everything. You would’ve put yourself and your family in danger.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my family!” I slap him. “Don’t you dare,” I hiss.
“You saw what he did to your brother. Lucas doesn’t mess around.
And if I hadn’t taken you with me… Mr. Miller wouldn’t have stopped.
Maybe not right then, but eventually he would’ve done it.
And you know what would’ve happened afterward?
Nothing. You’d have gone on living with a huge scarlet letter, drowning in shame, while he would have gotten transferred to another school.
I know how this goes. Schools cover things up and shift the blame onto you to protect their reputation. I, at least, went to jail.”
“Do you think that’s enough for what you did? Two years, Chase. You were only in jail for two years for kidnapping and murder. Two goddamn years. Do you think that’s enough? Not even close.”
I’m crying. I’m angry. I’m alive.
For the first time in years, I feel like I’m breathing. Like I’ve broken the surface after drowning for too long. It scares me that I needed Chase for this. When I’m with him, I feel like I’m allowed to be angry, sad, and lost. Like I’m allowed to let out the pain I’ve been choking down.
For the past few years, I’ve been trying to act normal.
But that was the worst thing I could’ve done.
The pain and the anger didn’t go away. They just grew and grew.
And I was terrified to make a decision on my own—to speak up, or do anything that might condemn me.
Because I was living in the shadow of my past. I was afraid they’d sedate me and lock me in a mental hospital.
I was afraid to talk about my emotions because I knew no one would understand.
“Fuck!” I moan and wipe my nose. “You stole my life. I couldn’t mourn my parents properly. I couldn’t be there for their funeral. Jamie didn’t even have one. Because of you!” I shout.
“You need dry clothes.”
“You think I’m going with you?”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“The other day you told me I did.”
“You do have a choice.”
I remember what he once told me. “You never chose me, Grace. Even though we both know that—”
I open my mouth to protest, then close it.
If it really was someone else who sent me those bizarre gifts, I’m in deep shit.
And it takes a lunatic to fight a lunatic.
Because I have no idea who could’ve gotten their hands on my diary.
Who has it now? Who’s reading the secrets I’d been so careful to hide from the world?
When I moved to that farmhouse at twenty and looked through my old things, I missed it. But I figured my siblings must’ve thrown it out because they didn’t want to haul unnecessary stuff with them. And I was secretly hoping Nikky hadn’t gotten her hands on it. But what if she did?
My stomach clenches. What kind of madmen watch that site? What else are they capable of? If they get hard-ons from violence… what would they do to me?
Fear coils inside me.
The right decision would be to go to Tulsa.
But I couldn’t look Greta in the eyes, with her wordlessly telling me, I told you so.
And Cyrus… My heart is breaking for him, but Ortíz and Cameron are right.
The only way he won’t get hurt is if I stay away from him.
I should stay away from everyone, really.
I’m free, but at this moment it feels like heavy chains are binding me to the man standing in front of me.
Cyrus didn’t get pulled into this because of me, but I can’t sic another lunatic on him.
That would be too much. I can’t expect him to protect me all the time.
I can’t put his life in danger—especially not because there’s a maniac standing in front of me who would gladly take every bullet fired at me from a gun he and his brother have loaded.
Lucas and Chase. This whole thing is because of them.
“I’m going with you on one condition. You let the boy go. The knowledge that their son could die if they don’t make it in time will be punishment enough for the parents. Or—” I get in his face and meet his dark irises, defiant—“I’ll run so far you’ll never find me.”
Anger isn’t the only thing blazing between us.
There’s passion, too. The passion that drove us into each other’s arms in the basement.
The passion that stops me from bolting in panic, that makes me stay.
The passion I shoved down into the deepest part of my heart because I was ashamed of it.
But it makes no sense to deny something that was never a secret.
I’m in love with Chase Baker, despite everything he’s done.
Chase leans closer, smiling. Our noses brush.
“You think so?”
My bag drops into a puddle. Chase wraps an arm around my waist, pulls me in, and cups my face in his ice-cold palm.
My heart races like in panic, hammering against my ribs.
The dark whirlpool—the pitch-black danger that’s always in his eyes—pulls me under.
My eyelids grow heavy. My lips part. My breathing turns uneven, halting.
Chase leans down and doesn’t ask for permission or confirmation.
He slides two fingers under my chin and tips my head up.
He looks straight into my eyes. Tiny raindrops cling to his full lips and thick lashes.
He puts me under his spell and lets me drown in the moment.
He threads his fingers through my wet hair and kisses me with wild, crazy passion.
He fills me with life—energy, dreams, desire.
He tempts me with everything he took from me, everything I’ve been grieving for for years, everything that could never be mine.
Until now.