Chapter One
Grayson
I will find you.
My eyes scanned over the blue and red flashing lights in the parking lot of the General Store, ignoring the looks of the nosy townspeople of Astoria, Oregon. I wasn’t here for them. I turned off my truck and swung out, slamming the door behind me, making my presence known.
Carrie had been kidnapped, taken from me.
My jaw was tight as Sheriff Michael Humbly’s brown eyes spotted me from across the parking lot. A second later, those eyes widened as they snapped over to his wife, Sarah, who’d came to Carrie’s house ten minutes ago to tell me the love of my life had been taken and the owners of the store had been shot.
Humbly said something to the two officers standing beside him, patiently waiting for orders. I suspected this was the first true crime this town had seen in fucking decades. When I was nearly two feet away, Humbly turned and raised his hands. “Grayson, listen to me—my boys are on this. We are pulling the video footage. We’re going to find who did this and get Carrie b—”
In a flash, I had the man by the collar, pulling him close to my face as I snarled, “Keeping me from this would be a horrible move on your part, Sheriff.”
“Grayson,” he clipped, expecting me to release him. The people around us fell silent, the wind from the incoming winter storm howling through the air. The chill of winter stung my cheeks, burning my skin as hatred for this town and all the people in it bloomed in my chest.
Carrie was gone. My Carrie—my fucking sunshine, my warmth.
“You’ll get me what I ask for the minute I ask for it. That clear?” I asked, voice hard as I stared into his eyes, letting him see the monster inside me.
He looked over to his wife, panic in his eyes. “Grayson, my family—”
“You don’t let me do what I do best to get mine back, you’ll lose yours, Humbly.”
His eyes snapped back to mine, and seconds later, I shoved him away from me, pulling out my gun and showing the other officers. Humbly cleared his throat. “Boys, this is Joseph Grayson. He’s going to be helping us out on the Hale case.”
The Hale case.
Once upon a time, she was my case…
Get it together, Grayson. Find her first.
I shoved my gun into the waistband of my jeans and headed inside, leaving the shit show of a police department in the freezing parking lot. The scene in front of me was something out of a horror film; the simplicity of it alone shouldn’t have affected me, but this was different. All I could see was Carrie. I could hear her screams and could practically smell her fear that still lingered in the air alongside the scent of blood.
My eyes scanned the fallen produce, apples, and oranges scattered across the cream tile, spanning into different sections of the store. I moved closer, letting the door fall closed behind me as I made my way around a produce bin. I stopped breathing at the sight of the small pool of blood on the floor directly in front of the checkout counter. I followed that, my eyes lifting up to the counter to find more blood splatter. My feet moved then, carrying me over to the spot and discovering even more blood splatter on the wall beside the office door.
It wasn’t Carrie’s .
The voice inside my head, the one desperately trying to hold on to hope and not let me slip back into darkness, was louder than I expected it to be. I expected logic to be louder, but it seemed I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between logic and delusion much longer. Emotions I’d never felt before were blooming inside me like weeds, spreading throughout my system, infecting the man I used to be.
The cold man, void of emotion.
“None of this blood is Carrie’s.”
I turned my head to find Humbly standing on the large, black entry rug, his hands in his coat pockets. His brows were pinched together, his jaw tight, but his eyes were filled with pain. My chest ached at the sight. No matter how much I wanted to kill the man, I knew deep down, I couldn’t. He meant something to Carrie; her light shined on him and his family, as well as this town.
Not responding, I let a small wave of relief wash over me as I turned to walk toward the center aisle. I studied the floor, lowering down to my haunches to inspect the scuff marks. “He had her here,” I declared, brushing my fingers over the marks, hearing the sound her cute little boots made as she scrambled for freedom, for control.
“I agree with you, and once we get the video footage, you and I can confirm that together,” Humbly said, his voice closer now.
I looked up, noting the fallen items all the way down the center aisle, leading to the back. “Printing paper in the back?” I asked. That was why Carrie was here in the first place, she’d was on an errand for her boss, Rossy, to get more fucking printer paper.
“Yes.”
I rose swiftly and before I took a step, I ordered him to stay put. I didn’t need anyone breathing down my throat while I did this—especially not Humbly. Making my way down the aisle slowly, I stepped over the fallen, damaged boxes and cans of food, making note of where they were missing on the shelves.
My sunshine fought back.
I stopped in front of a section, noting the entire shelf had been pushed back slightly. Nostrils flaring, I got back down to my haunches, my eyes landing on a syringe cap.
They drugged her.
They drugged her.
They fucking drugged her.
My body shook with anger as I picked up the small, almost insignificant piece of plastic and held it up to inspect it. I could feel Humbly staring at me from the end of the aisle. “Your boys missed something,” I told him plainly, struggling to keep my anger at bay, grinding my teeth.
“They didn’t miss anything, Grayson. You’re the first one, aside from the paramedics and myself, who’s been in here. We hadn’t even begun the investigation when you pulled up,” he explained.
Sighing through my nose, I rose back up to my full height and retraced my steps, looking for the rest of the syringe. Once I was at the front of the aisle, I got down to the floor, on my back, getting a new view of the crime scene. I looked up towards the pool of blood that belonged to Jimmy, the store owner, and then to the right.
There.
The discarded syringe had been thrown down by Carrie’s kidnapper and most likely had bounced off the floor before landing and sliding underneath one of the fruit bins.
I rolled to the bin of bananas, pushing it back with a low grunt.
“Fuck,” Humbly clipped from beside me.
Blood was pounding in my ears know as my fingers twitched, craving violence as my chest heaved. It was the same syringe I found in Carrie’s bedroom weeks ago—the same one Leo used on her before he tried to…
I bit off a low curse before barking, “Get me an evidence bag.”
Two hours later, I was doing my fifth scan over the store, looking for Carrie’s phone. The tracking device was always live, even if the phone was damaged by water or dead.
If she still had it on her, I wouldn’t be in the God-forsaken store, getting on the floor for the hundredth time in search of the fucking thing. I’d be going directly after her. The more time I spent here, the higher the chance she was hurt or worse.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I bit down hard, grinding my teeth together. No. I couldn’t think like that. For the sake of Carrie’s life, I had to shove my emotions aside, which was usually very easy to do. It was something I learned to at a very young age, and now? It was proving to be one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
He fucking drugged her, and I needed to get that syringe to Jake so he could work his magic. I had a gut feeling that the fucker who took Carrie drugged her with Nightwalker , a new date rape drug only produced in one place: Devils Den, an underground network of hell in Seattle.
“Grayson!”
My head snapped up at the sound of Humbly’s voice, and I was back on my feet in an instant, heading for him. He was in the middle of the store as he turned to face me, Carrie’s phone in hand. He handed it to me and said, “I’ll need to run a search on that to figure out possible suspects. Maybe we can put together a—”
“I already know who took her,” I said, opening her phone and going to our message thread, staring at the last text I’d sent her.
I should’ve gone with her to the fucking store.
I should’ve stayed at Rossy’s with her while she worked.
I should’ve—
“What do you mean you know?” Humbly asked, his voice concerned. “You mean to tell me you knew she was in dang—”
“—finish that sentence, I break your jaw,” I threatened with a growl, and his mouth shut. “For your fucking information, my team and I knew she was in danger, as did you .” The last word came out as a sneer. “You knew about the letters, and you chose not to look into it.”
Humbly jerked back. “You think I wasn’t, Grayson? I was. I was waiting for her to bring them to the station so we could go over them together. She said her neighbor, Mr. Winters—”
“Don’t need a goddamn recap, Humbly,” I clipped, putting her phone in my pocket. “I’m caught up.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Then do me a fucking favor and catch me up. The more people we have on this, the sooner we get Carrie home.”
“I have to make a call first,” I informed him as I moved past him, heading outside. The storm was here, freezing rain and snow falling from the dark gray skies above. The slap of cold air hit me as I exited the store, crossing the crowded parking lot to get into the truck. Once inside, I cranked the engine and pulled out my phone, dialing Jake.
“Talk to me,” he answered, the sound of a keyboard in the background.
“I need you to run another test on a needle,” I told him, holding up the evidence bag.
He cursed under his breath. “Fuck, was she drugged?”
“Found a syringe at the scene of the crime, so my guess is yeah. Need to run this and confirm it’s Carrie’s blood.”
“I will the second we’re together again,” he promised, which would be no later than tomorrow.
“This syringe is identical to the one Leo Samuels used on Carrie,” I said, my voice low. Fuck, I needed to kill something. I rolled my head, cracking my neck.
“Jesus, what the hell?”
“I also believe it was man who kidnapped her. Monica isn’t strong enough to subdue Carrie, she knows how to fight back.”
“You think..?” he guessed, reading my mind.
“Remember that talk we had last year about you not doing stupid shit anymore?”
“If you’re referring to the stupid shit that could get me and the rest of the boys landed in prison for the next forty years, then yes,” he returned, unbothered.
I was quiet for a moment, looking down the road, studying the small town my woman had come to care for so quickly, trying to picture our lives here. I blinked away the vision of us walking down the sidewalk in the spring, past the shops, her arm wrapped around mine as she laughed, beaming up at me.
“Gray?” he called.
I looked down to my lap, clearing my throat. “You still willing to do that stupid shit, Jake?”
His answer was almost immediate. “Always, Gray. You know that,” he said sincerely. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it done. You have my word.”
I loved her. Fuck, but I loved her…
“I need you to hack into the FBI mainframe.”
Jake was quiet for a moment. “And what or who am I looking for?”
“Anything related to Carrie, her father, or her dead ex-husband,” I answered.
I half-expected him to deny me. We’d set that boundary for the protection of Red Snake—for all of us. What I was asking him to do wasn’t entirely for a Red Snake job. It was for me—for the woman I loved…
This was crossing a line, and I knew that.
But I also didn’t give a shit.
If he wouldn’t do it, I’d do everything myself.
I braced for his answer, and when he gave it to me, the darkness inside me smiled.
“Done.”
After ending the call, I dialed another number, knowing I needed to do this now.
“Grayson,” Mags greeted firmly. “You both on your way?”
My gut tightened, and I closed my eyes. How quickly things could change. Carrie and I were supposed to be on the road to Hallow Ranch by now, for Carrie’s protection. “Mags…”
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice suddenly cold.
“They got her,” I told him in a monotone. If I succumbed to my emotions with him on the phone, I might not survive. No one, not even he, would be able to pull me out of the rage.
“Say again?” he asked lowly, growling at the end.
“They took her while she was on an errand for work earlier this afternoon,” I explained.
I heard him curse, followed by a loud bang in the back ground. “Who? Who has her?” he barked, anger seeping from his voice now.
“Her dead husband’s lover,” I answered. “But the woman isn’t working alone. There’s another player.”
“You got a lead?”
“My team is doing all they can.”
Silence.
I looked at my lap, grinding my teeth. Minutes of silence stretched between us, both of us knowing there were no words in any language that could fix this. Nothing could provide me with comfort now, not until she was back in my arms.
“I’m coming to you.”
My head shot up, my eyes wide now. “Mags—”
“No,” he clipped, stopping my protest. “Stay in Astoria. I’ll be there by tonight and we can—”
“You aren’t leaving Hallow Ranch for me,” I snapped, sitting up. “Like fucking hell you are Mags.”
Mags hadn’t left Hallow Ranch in over a decade. It was his safe space, his home. I’d be damned if he was going to leave all that behind to help me. “Red Snake has this,” I told him.
“Red Snake won’t cross certain lines if needed,” he returned softly.
That wasn’t entirely true. Jake just crossed one for me, but there was no telling if the other men would. Not that I could blame them. Mags, though, wouldn’t just cross lines for me; he would obliterate them, sending him back to a place he didn’t need to be. He barely made it out the first time.
“I can’t ask you to do this for me, Mags,” I told him with a sigh.
“You aren’t askin’. I’m tellin.”
I couldn’t let him risk his happiness for me, his sanity. “Hold tight for now,” I ordered.
“Dammit, Gray—”
“Hayes is on his way up here,” I told him, cutting him off. “We’re getting more information from the local PD and then heading out. I appreciate the offer, but for right now, I need you on standby. If things go south…” I trailed off, leaving the promise hanging in the air.
He finished it for me. “Things go south, you call in a code Reaper.”
The last time I called in that code, over a hundred people lost their souls. I looked back to the General Store, picturing Carrie fighting, needing me.
“You have my word,” I told Mags.
When he spoke again, it wasn’t my friend. It was the man from the war. “I’ll be waiting.”