Chapter Five
Grayson
Hayes and I were quiet as the elevator took us up to the thirteenth floor, Tic-Tac’s carrier on the floor between us. The sun was about to rise, and Carrie had been missing for over eighteen hours. The flight down here was a blur. I’d spent the entire time trying to keep myself in check while Hayes was in the cockpit.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal the Red Snake team waiting for me, ready to go to hell for me.
Ash was no longer wearing an arm sling, the bruising on his face finally healed, but agony still lingered in his eyes. Jake’s ginger hair was pulled back, his glasses sitting high on his nose, his tablet in hand. Dominic’s jaw was tight, ready to go into battle, two guns strapped to his hips. All the men were dressed in black cargo pants, combat boots, and black, long-sleeved thermals.
Without a word, I picked up Tic-Tac’s carrier, and his quiet meow filled the strained silence. Ash’s eyes were the first to drop to it. “Everything is set up in your office for him, Gray. He’ll be comfortable there until we get her back,” he promised.
Would we?
Would we get her back?
Or have you lost her forever?
The voice inside my head wasn’t logical. It was my demons, trying to derail me.
Hayes and I stepped out of the elevator as I gave Ash a single nod, thankful that none of the boys were giving me bullshit for falling in love with a fucking cat. My eyes met Jakes and I jerked my chin. “You got what I need?”
He nodded once, a muscle jumping in his cheek just above his thick beard.
“Alright, boys,” Hayes began. “Meeting room. Two minutes.”
We broke apart, and I headed straight into my office to set Tic-Tac’s carrier on the floor by the couch before opening it. I didn’t beckon him to come out, knowing full well he was scared shitless from the flight. He’d come out on his own time. Surveying my space, I spotted a self-cleaning kitty litter box, some toys, and a plush bed tucked into the corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The sound of my cell ringing cut through the air, and I turned, staring at my desk as I pulled it out, not bothering to check who was calling.
“Grayson,” I greeted, my voice distant as exhaustion slammed into me.
“Right,” Denver Langston started, “we’re going to cut the shit and get straight to it. Mags told me your woman is in danger.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking out to the city and biting off a curse. When I brought the phone back, I said, “And I told Mags to remain on standby.”
“You and I both know standby isn’t what Mags does,” the Hallow Ranch owner clipped.
“My team and I have things sorted here,” I returned.
“Mags said you would say that. So I’m going to say this: Hallow Ranch in is your debt, and I’m ready to settle it.”
Hallow Ranch was in my debt, there was no doubt about that. However, that ranch pulled Mags from a dark place, saving him from something I couldn’t. Therefore, I was never going to hold the debt over Denver’s head.
“Denver, I appreciate—”
“What do you need?” he asked, cutting me off.
I shook my head, nostrils flaring. “I told Mags what I needed.” I needed these cowboys out of it. Mags would be a last resort phone call if needed—only if the situation called for it. Denver’s words sliced through the line, each one packing a punch.
“What. Do. You. Need?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, the fist at my side starting to shake with anger, spreading throughout my body, poisoning me. “Denver—”
“You’re the reason my brother and I were able to take down our threat and save our women, Grayson. Let us do the same for you,” he said, softer now.
My breathing came quicker then, my heart pounding like a drum, waking up the monster inside me—the man I thought I had buried. No, I couldn’t go back there .
I couldn’t—I wouldn’t be able to survive it and Carrie would be lost.
“It’s fine,” I pushed out through clenched teeth.
It wasn’t fine.
None of this was fine.
I fucked up.
I overlooked the possibility that Carrie was actually in danger when I was hired to find her. I was too focused on trying to push her away at first, fighting the pull between us, and then too busy trying to soak up all the time we’d lost. I was foolish— careless . I let my heart get in the way of my logic, and now, my sunshine was gone.
Now, she was gone, scared, and most likely fucking hurt, all because of me.
She’d been through enough in her life, and then I came into it the second she got a taste of freedom…
“Do you have any leads?” Denver asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m good buddies with law enforcement down here. We can spread the word, have people be on the lookout for her.”
The only picture I had of her was her wedding photo. It was outdated. She was a completely different person then. Even if I gave him the photo, it would do nothing. She wouldn’t be recognized now. She’d be overlooked.
Clearing my throat, I tried shoving the fury down and rolled my neck, popping the joints. I needed to get focused. Fuck, I’d been trying to stay focused all day. “We got it, Denver,” I told him firmly.
The man wasn’t taking no for an answer, and deep down, I knew that was just how Denver was made. He’d served in the Marines; he’d seen his own shit over there during the war, had his own demons. He made it out and found his way eventually. He got his happy ending, and I played a small part in that. Now, he was willing to drop everything and help me.
Even when I didn’t want it.
This needed to stay within Red Snake.
Is Red Snake enough, though?
My jaw tightened as I closed my eyes, fighting those thoughts as Denver said, “Grayson, just tell me what you need. We’re going to get her back. You have my word. What do you need?”
We’re going to get her back.
We’re going to get her back.
We’re going to get her back.
Her soft laugh filled my ears, followed by her calling out my name, sounding happy and breathless. Yesterday morning, she’d been like that. Happy, breathless from the pleasure I’d given her, and most of all, safe.
My chest ached as I thought about the syringe on the floor of the General Store, the signs of a struggle, how the fear most likely shined in her eyes. Did she call out for help? Did anyone hear her? Did she call out for me? I shook my head, turning away from the windows.
But you weren’t there, were you? You let her go, leaving her unprotected while you sat in the house—
“Grayson?” Denver called on the other end of the line.
Before I could stop it, I lost control. “I need my fucking woman back in my arms! I need Carrie with me! I need her father to answer my fucking questions. I need blood, Denver! That’s what I fucking need!”
There was no response, and I bent my head, pinching the bridge of my nose, emotion gathering in my throat. “Fuck,” I pushed out.
Pure, unfiltered rage was compelling me now as I let out a roar, turning and throwing the phone. It landed against the wall with a crash as both of my hands shot into my hair, my chest heaving as images of Carrie covered in blood flashed before my eyes.
Suddenly, all I could hear was screaming and ringing in my ears. I instantly registered the sound, and my stomach sank, but it was already too late.
No, not again. I couldn’t go back there. Not now.
Pain rippled through my body, starting at my scar and pulsing down to the center of my chest. The office around me faded as I yanked my hair, trying to pull myself out of the nightmare, but all I could see was my sunshine crying out in pain. We were in a dark room, the smell of sweat and blood in the air, the sounds of gunshots and bombs outside. My eyes met hers, and I could feel the last piece of my soul dying, dimming at the sight of her in pain. As she cried out for me, her body thrashed on a cold, dark floor as her tormentor continued to slice her open. My heart seized as I fell to my knees, pressing my palms into my eyes.
No, go the fuck away. This isn’t real. It isn’t fucking real!
Carrie screamed for me again, and the sound was pure torture, my own version of hell.
“Baby,” I croaked, my voice cracking.
There was nothing I could do, and when I opened my eyes again, I found her in the same spot, trembling in fear. She was being held down by multiple men in masks now, and I was on the outside looking in, forced to watch. The men were speaking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. I could. I knew that language.
They wanted answers she didn’t have. Answers only I had.
My heart lurched when I realized which nightmare we were in. She had taken my place.
She twisted her head back to look at me, tears falling down her dirty cheeks, bruises covering her skin. Her hair wasn’t shining, covered in dirt, and her curls were dull, just like her eyes.
“Grayson! Please! Don’t let them hurt me!” she cried, blood trickling from her mouth now.
I screamed for her, but no sound came. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.
A figure came around her body, and in a flash, a curved blade was being held over the side of her face as another figure held her down by the neck. Her skin was red, her eyes bulging as she tried gasping for air.
I knew that blade. I had sketches of that blade. I’d spent years trying to hunt down that blade. That blade ruined me. And now? That blade was going to ruin my sunshine, kill her light.
No.
No!
I roared and tried moving, but I still was frozen— trapped. Even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let her go through this alone, not like I did.
“Grayson, please,” she pushed out, gasping. “H-he—” Her pleas for mercy were cut off by her screams as the tip of the blade pierced the skin on her temple. The dark figure above her slowly started to drag the blade down the side of her face, slicing her open, blood spilling across her beauty.
My scar was on fire now, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Grayson!”
That wasn’t her voice. It was a different voice, one I’d heard long ago, one that had been my beckon of hope, belonging to my savior.
“Fuck, Mags, I don’t know what to do,” Hayes’ voice sounded off somewhere in the distance.
They didn’t belong in this nightmare. Why were they here?
A second later, I felt something against my ear, followed by a familiar voice. “Grayson, get out of it,” Mags’ voice ordered sharply.
“They have her,” I told him, closing my eyes, finding peace in the darkness. The images were gone.
“And we’re getting her back,” he barked. “Get the fuck up and fight, Grayson.”
“Mags,” I pushed out, rocking back and forth now. “They’re going to slice her open…”
He cursed, and then his voice lowered. “Gray, listen to me. Those men are dead. You know that. You know they’re in hell. Who put them there?”
I blinked, and I found myself back in the office again, my team standing above me, Hayes on his knees beside me, his eyes wide with fear. The nightmare was fading now.
“Dammit, Gray,” Mags barked on the phone. “Answer the question. Who sent those men to hell? ”
“You did,” I replied, my voice calming down, my heartbeat steady once more.
He was silent for a moment. “Take a breath and hold it for ten seconds.” I did as he asked. “Good,” he muttered. “Put Hayes back on.”
I looked to Hayes to find he was the one holding the phone to my ear. I gave him a nod, and he pulled the phone away from me. “Yeah?” he said.
A second later, Jake was on his haunches in front of me. “Boss,” he murmured.
“I’m fine,” I told him, mentally trying to shake it off.
He stared at me for a few minutes as Hayes rose to his feet, talking low.
Dominic held his head out to me, his eyes sincere. “Come on, Gray.”
He pulled me to my feet, and I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know…I don’t know why that happened,” I told my team, looking over my shoulder to Hayes. He had his hand on his hip, the other holding the phone, his back to me.
“Grayson.”
I turned and found Dominic at the door, holding it open. He jerked his head. “Let’s go.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Dominic pressed, standing over me in the meeting room. I was sitting at the head of the table, rubbing my forehead, trying to calm down.
“No, I’m not fucking okay,” I sighed, dropping my hand and looking up at him. He knew. He always fucking knew. Dominic could read anyone. It was his fucking job. “Carrie is gone, and I just had my first fucking episode in over three goddamn years. I don’t need to—I can’t—” I cut myself off, looking away from him.
All I could see was her. My trauma was tainting my love for her, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
I’d never been so scared in all my life. I’d stared death straight in the eyes and told it to fuck off, and now, I couldn’t even do what I needed to do to save the only woman I’d ever loved.
I was worthless.
“Talk to me, Gray,” Dominic said patiently.
I shook my head. “There’s no time for that.”
We had to get a move on. We had to go over the mission plan and get on the road. Every second I wasted sitting here was a second Carrie could be hurting.
Dominic studied me for a moment. “Carrie’s kidnapping triggered this.”
I felt a muscle in my cheek jump. “Of course it fucking—”
“Or is it something deeper? Something you haven’t processed yet?” he asked softly.
I turned my chair, putting my legs underneath the table and placing my elbows on the top before hanging my head. I stared at the wood grain, listening to the steady beat of my heart as I held my breath, twinges of pain shooting through my scar. “You know the answer, Edwards,” I rumbled.
“I know, but I would like to hear it from you,” he returned, his voice still level, still patient.
When I said nothing, he pulled me from my thoughts before I could even sink into them. “Grayson, you’ve been on the go your entire life. From what you disclosed, your childhood was healthy. You have a good relationship with your mother. Your father’s death never really bothered you because you never knew him. You were okay with being okay, all through your childhood.”
Slowly, I lifted my head and straightened my spine, letting go of the breath I’d been holding. Dominic turned on his heel and went to lean against the door of the room, crossing his ankles, putting his hands in his pockets. “Your history in the Marines was…colorful to say the least,” he noted. “You nearly lost your life multiple times, but there was only one time you were truly scared.” His dark eyes moved from mine, landing on my scar.
A lump formed in my throat.
“You were tortured.”
Slowly, I nodded.
“You were on an extraction mission, yes?”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, unable to speak, nodding again.
“Carrie was an extraction job.”
She was just a job and nothing more.
I’d repeated those words over and over for weeks, trying to get her out of my head. Nothing ever worked. The pull between us had been too strong. It was fate. We both knew that now.
“Grayson?”
I blinked, shaking my head. “Talking about this isn’t going to help get her back,” I told him.
He tilted his head to the side, his brows coming together. “We need to get whatever it is that pulled you into that episode out of your head, Gray. We won’t be able to find Carrie if you aren’t at your best. You know that,” he challenged. “Answer my question. Carrie Hale was an extraction job, was she not?”
“Yes,” I answered through clenched teeth. “You damn well know she was.”
“And now, she’s been kidnapped,” he shot back, throwing his arm out there. “Your mind is trying to twist you into thinking this is your fault, bringing you back to the worst day of your life. Let me ask another question, Gray: in your office just now, were you the one being tortured? Or was Carrie the one being held down on the dirt floor?”
I was fuming now. “Watch it,” I growled.
He fell silent, studying me again. “You’re defensive.”
“No, I just don’t want to think of her like that! It’s my worst damn nightmare!” I bit off.
“But it wasn’t a nightmare at all, Gray,” he reminded me gently. “You lived it. You were the one who was held down and tortured, not Carrie. You’re putting her in that situation because if you don’t bring her back, in your mind, that’s the only outcome she’ll have.”
He was right. I knew he was right. I bent my head again. “I fucked up,” I murmured. “I’m the reason why she was taken.”
“No, you’re not, but you are going to be the reason we get her back. Safe. Alive.”
I lifted my head back up. “I can’t go back there,” I declared firmly, shaking my head.
“Let’s go over the facts,” he started, pulling out the chair to my left and taking a seat. I raised my head to look at him. “We’re the best damn hunters in the country. We are good at what we do and everyone knows that.”
I nodded once.
Dominic continued, “We know who our main suspect is, we know the motive, and we know who to talk to for more information, which is what we’re about to do, correct?”
I knew what he was doing. I’d seen him do this on Ash—hell, even Hayes once. It was a mind game, forcing you to push past your emotions and focus on logic and facts. Before Dominic joined Red Snake, he helped veterans with PTSD for this very reason.
“Correct,” I replied, nodding.
“You, Jake, Ash, Hayes, and I have a certain set of skills that allows us to do what we must to get the job done, including saving people. This isn’t the first kidnapping we’ve dealt with, correct?”
It wasn’t. Over the last three years, Red Snake had successfully brought back a handful of people involved in a kidnapping. Dominic was right: we had the skills.
Over the next half hour, he continued asking me certain questions, things about myself, how I got into this position, and finally, how Carrie was kidnapped. He made me go over the crime scene with him, reminding me of who I was. He was forcing the logic I’d lost to my emotions to return to the forefront of my mind.
“Your emotions, your demons, don’t control you, Grayson,” Dominic stressed, his dark eyes fierce, jaw tight. “You are not your trauma. You survived. You made it out. There’s no reason to go back there.”
“There’s no reason to go back there,” I repeated.
“Say it again,” he ordered.
I did, then two more times.
Suddenly, that voice I’d been hearing slowly faded into a whisper, and the voice of logic took over.
Carrie Hale would be in my arms soon, and the people who took her would be six feet in the ground.
“You’re a bounty hunter. You’re a veteran. You’re going to find Carrie Hale and bring her home. Correct?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, stroking his jaw.
I met his eyes, nodding once. “Correct.”
A slow smirk spread across his face as he pointed at me. “There’s the Joseph Grayson I know,” he declared. “There’s the man Red Snake needs, the man Carrie needs. Are you going to let him slip out of control again?”
“No.”
“Good,” he replied, pushing up from his seat. “Let’s get this fucking meeting started. We have a federal prison to break into, after all.” He shot me a wink and opened the door, shouting for the rest of the guys to come in.
A few seconds later, after Dominic had taken his seat once more, the boys filed in; Jake, Ash, and then Hayes, who took the seat to the right of me. Jake went directly to the front of the room, pulling up the projector as Ash took his seat beside Dominic.
It was time to get my sunshine back.