Chapter Twenty-Four
Carrie
Hayes scared me.
This was something I didn’t expect, given how Grayson and everyone else talked about him. I figured he would at least say hi to me whenever I greeted him. I’d been in Denver for almost a week, and all four times I’d seen him, Hayes hadn’t given me the time of day. It was like I didn’t exist to him, and I was starting to wonder if he hated me.
Could I blame him?
No.
I couldn’t imagine all the problems I’d caused Red Snake Investigations since Jeremy hired Grayson to hunt me down. Hayes built this alongside Grayson, and now, there was a real possibility they might lose everything. Dominic, of course, tried to reassure me this morning while walking me to Grayson’s office, telling me everything would work out in the end. I’d apologized to him for all the trouble I’d caused, and he simply stared at me with his dark, unwavering blue eyes for a few moments.
Then, he smiled and told me not to worry about it.
But I was worrying about it. These men had lives, and Red Snake was their job. They risked that for me—for Grayson—and the guilt weighing on my chest was about to crush me completely.
Last night, after Grayson made me see God, made me feel loved in a way I never thought I would, let alone deserved. He told me about the prison break. He told me about my father, all the horrible things he’d said about his daughter. My father knew something was off with Robert from the beginning. He knew about Monica, and yet, he still made me marry him, convincing me that Robert would be the man to love me and take care of me for the rest of my life.
What a load of shit that was.
Grayson explained Robert’s secret identities; the passports, the houses, the bills, the bank accounts, all of it. He also asked me if I knew what Whitelock was. Apparently, that was a place Robert liked to visit often, and if I were to guess, that was where he took his victims to kill them, but not all of them.
The St. Louis River Killer got his name for a reason; all his victims were in found along the river. At least, in the beginning, they were. Then the bodies were found in random spots throughout the city, but they all had the same injuries, the same signature.
Robert killed all of them over the span of a decade, and he was never caught.
The memory of him being covered in blood flashed in my mind, and more guilt formed in my chest. I’d caught him.
I could’ve—
I looked up from my lap, taking a deep breath and looking out the windows. There was nothing I could’ve done. He tried to kill me, choking me until I passed out. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and counted to ten, pushing those thoughts away.
There was nothing I could’ve done.
The only ones who were able to stop him, didn’t. For some twisted, fucked up reason they let him grow up, go to school, to be a person. They let him free into society, knowing exactly what kind of monster he was. Grayson told me about my in-laws, not hiding a single thing from me.
He told me about Hayes kidnapping them. He told me about how they’d been held against their will in the holding cells in the offices, and how Dominic interrogated both of them. That was when I had been saved by Mags, and he’d gotten in contact with Red Snake through the radio while I was sleeping. Grayson held me in his arms last night as he recalled the horrid, chilling stories Donna Hale told him, and when he got to the part about Robert’s little sister, everything clicked.
Robert killed his little sister, and Brandon witnessed it.
The things Brandon said to Monica during their spats suddenly made sense. Brandon was unstable, but a part of me couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, despite everything he’d done to me. Hell, at one point, I felt sorry for Monica, and look how that turned out. There was no use in trying to find humanity in someone too far gone, but still, my soul couldn’t help it. My father always told me growing up that I was too soft, just like my mother. Part of me wondered why I was still soft. Grayson loved that part of me, but I wanted to be stronger.
For him.
For me.
For everyone in my life.
Feeling sorry for a monster wasn’t strong. It was weakness, I needed to learn to let go.
After Grayson caught me up on everything, I fell asleep on his chest, and when I woke this morning, he didn’t want to let me leave the bed. That was when I noticed the fear in his eyes.
We both knew that none of this would truly be over until Brandon was found, and until then, things wouldn’t be safe for me. Grayson also warned me that things might come back on him and all of Red Snake Investigations.
Now, I was sitting on the couch in his office, waiting for an update on my horrid in-laws while I edited my photos. Grayson brought my laptop and camera from Astoria—he knew, just like I knew, that he would find me. He told me he wanted me to be somewhat comfortable, and this morning I’d ordered some flowers to put in his kitchen. I needed color. He knew that, and he was willing to give it to me.
Carrie, you want color around you because you were locked in a colorless place for over a fucking year. No, scratch that—your life never had color before you moved to Astoria. You need color. There’s nothing wrong with that.
I released a breath and continued tweaking the color of the sky in the photo I’d taken this morning, making it a little more vibrant before spending the next few minutes staring at the piece in silence. My brain was in a fog, and I felt out of place here, in Grayson’s world.
How could he fit so perfectly into my world, but I didn’t in his?
Peeling my eyes from my laptop screen, I looked around his office, taking in the blacks, grays, and whites.
No color. No warmth.
That was Grayson.
I stared at his desk, my eyes narrowing on the thick file underneath his laptop.
Suddenly, the door to the office opened out of the corner of my eye and my head snapped in that direction, my eyes widening as Hayes walked in, his eyes on his phone. I held my breath, remaining silent. His blond hair was clipped short at the sides, but a lock of it was hanging down on his forehead as he studied whatever was on the tablet, his finger scrolling. He was dressed in navy blue cargos, combat boots, and a light gray thermal, the fabric molding to his muscular frame. There was also a duffel hanging off his shoulder and a gun strapped to his hip.
Finally, Hayes looked up, his eyes on Grayson’s empty desk, his jaw tight and brows furrowed. Something was eating at him. I cleared my throat softly, and instantly, those intense green eyes were on me. I braced, waiting for him to say something—anything to me.
When he didn’t, I took the leap. “Good morning, Hayes,” I greeted softly.
A muscle ticked in his cheek before he gave me a simple nod. Then, he turned around, ready to walk out of the office. I pushed my laptop off my lap and shot to my feet as I blurted, “I’m sorry.”
With his back to me, he froze, and I watched his shoulders move for a few beats before continuing. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I know—I know that all of this— me —might screw everything up for Red Snake,” I explained, my voice thick. “I never wanted any of this to happen.” I pressed my hands against my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
The man looked at me over his shoulder, and for a fleeting second, I saw his face soften. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Grayson walked through the door. His dark eyes landed on me, taking me in before sliding over to Hayes. He jerked his chin. “You heading out?”
Hayes gave him a single nod as he said, “I’ll update you when I get there.” His voice was smooth, nothing like I expected it to be. More apologetic words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to be out in the world, but I bit down. There was no use, not now. I didn’t want to screw up anything else for him.
Then, he was gone, and Grayson was coming to me. “You alright?”
I looked up at him, the lump in my throat forming once more, and then to the spot where Hayes once stood. “Does he hate me?”
My bounty hunter’s brows came together. “Sunshine, what the hell are you talking about?”
Lifting my arm to the opened door of his office, I said, “You told me Hayes was nice.”
The second the words were out in the open, I realized my mistake.
Oh, shit.
Grayson’s eyes darkened, a shadow falling over his scarred face as the air around us shifted. Suddenly, my chin was in his tight grip, forcing me to hold his intense gaze. “You trying to tell me Hayes wasn’t nice to you?” he pressed, his voice dark. “Answer me.”
I gulped, my eyes going wide at the underlying fury in his voice. It wasn’t towards me—it was towards Hayes. Gently, I placed my hands on his forearm, covering the white snake tattoo. “That’s not what I’m saying. Please don’t kill your friend over me,” I whispered.
His nostrils flared, not letting it go. “Did he say something to you?”
I shook my head. “No, he just…He just seems…angry. He hasn’t spoken to me—at all.”
Grayson’s brows softened as the darkness in his eyes faded, my words hitting him. “Hayes is an angry guy, baby. You aren’t the reason for that, I promise,” he explained.
“What do you mean?”
His hand shifted, snaking over my jaw to cup the back of my neck. “When Hayes was in the Air Force, he lost a lot of people,” he told me softly. “His entire squadron, actually.
My heart ached as my eyes widened. “What?” I breathed.
Grayson’s lips thinned. “That’s all I can tell you, Carrie. That’s all he’ll tell us. We don’t pry and he doesn’t show that side of himself. He can’t, but he lives with that guilt every single day.”
I looked back over to the doorway, tears stinging my eyes. For once, I wasn’t crying about me or Grayson. No, these tears were for the broken man who’d just left. “My god,” I muttered, closing my eyes as a few tears slid down my cheeks.
“He’s going to be okay. Eventually,” Grayson murmured when I looked back to him. Then, he gave me something else about his right-hand man that rocked me. “Also, the woman he was set to propose to was cheating on him with her ex. Hayes came back from a hunt and found them in his bed last year.”
My hand snapped up my mouth, my jaw dropping. “Oh my god.”
Grayson gave me a small, pained smile before pressing his lips to my forehead. “It isn’t you. He’s just got a fuck ton of shit going on, and this might send him over the edge.”
I pulled back from him, my hands going to his chest. “I don’t want any of you going to jail for me,” I whispered thickly. There. I’d finally said the words that had been swirling in my mind all last night and this morning.
“You and that fucking heart of yours,” he murmured, studying me.
“I’m serious, Grayson. Everything you guys did, you did to save me.” I stepped back, shaking my head. “I can’t—I won’t let you go to jail for that. None of you.”
Pain etched across his features, his hands remaining at his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I know, Sunshine.”
There was nothing else to say. There was nothing else I could do.
Looking away from him, I focused on the dull winter sky hovering over Denver. I was quiet for a moment, mentally preparing myself for what was coming next.
When I finally looked back at the love of my life, I gave it to him. “Take me to them.”
My former mother-in-law appeared to be unbothered as I stared at her through the small window of the locked door. She and her husband had been locked up in here for over a week, and the only thing out of place about the woman was her hair. It was down and loose, something I’d never seen when I was married to Robert.
Then again, I rarely ever saw them.
Donna Hale was dressed in a simple pencil skirt and blouse, sitting on the small cot with her legs crossed, her heels neatly lined up against the wall as she examined her nails. I left her door, needing to see both of them. My former father-in-law was in the room next to her, lying down on his cot, his face covered in bruises and cuts. My lips parted at the sight, finally seeing the damage Dominic had done.
Last night, when Grayson confessed all of this to me, I asked him why he let Dominic torture and question Robert’s father, and all my bounty hunter said was, “I was willing to do anything, hurt anyone, to find you. Still am. That will never change.”
And he did. He pushed the limits, and now, there was a very good chance they would all go to prison for it.
I felt Grayson’s body heat close to my back then as he rumbled, “When we let them go, this will be a complication, of course.”
I didn’t need the reminder.
All of this was screwed up.
The lives of so many people were hanging in the balance, as well as closure for all of Robert’s victims. All of it was on my shoulders, and all I ever wanted was to find happiness in this life. I’d only gotten a taste of it before it was ripped from me, and now, here I was, facing an impossible decision.
Before I could do that, I needed to confront the woman who raised a serial killer.
“Open her door,” I said softly, straightening my shoulders as I stepped up to it.
Dominic, who was standing a mere ten feet from us, pressed a button on the wall panel. The lock to Donna’s door clicked, and Grayson pulled it open, gesturing for me to step inside, features stone cold. I nodded, and without another word or look back to the men, I went inside—alone.
Just like I told Grayson I wanted.
Donna slowly turned her head in my direction, appearing bored at first. Then, her eyes landed on me, and everything about her demeanor changed. Her eyes widened, and she shot up from her place, stumbling back as I took another step inside. Confusion slammed into me as I noticed the fear in her eyes, the way her mouth was trembling.
“C-Carrie,” she gasped. “My god.”
“Hello, Donna,” I greeted, keeping my voice level.
She blinked, as if she was trying to get me to disappear, as if I was a ghost. “You…you look so—”
“—healthy,” I finished for her. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I would look a little better if not for your second son kidnapping me along with the woman Robert was apparently in love with his entire life.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“Yeah, Brandon is a real piece of work, but then again, can you really blame him?” I continued, my voice sharp. “After all, his big brother was a serial killer.”
The shock melted away from her features as she righted herself, shamelessness coating her face now. “So, they told you?”
I scoffed. “I think me of all people have a right to know the truth about my dead husband, don’t you think?”
Donna’s eyes drifted down from my face then, taking in my appearance. “You gained weight,” she noted, mainly to herself. “He would’ve hated that.”
She knew.
She knew about the abuse, the torture, that her son put me through. Day in and day out. For years.
“How could you?” I whispered, my throat burning now. There was no way I could play this off as if it didn’t bother me, not in front of her. “How could you let him do…everything?”
“He was my son,” she quipped, hissing at the end.
I stared at her, an overwhelming sense of confusion and disbelief surrounding me, disgust pooling in my belly, a new sense of hatred blooming in my chest. “He killed other people’s sons,” I murmured. “Other people’s daughters…even yours.”
The woman flinched. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re just a stupid girl, Carrie. That’s all you ever were to us—to him.”
She had no remorse.
Not for her me.
Not for the hundreds of Robert’s victims.
Not even for her own daughter, little Amy.
“Your son abused me for years, Donna,” I said, telling her something she clearly already knew. I didn’t care. I was going to get this out. “Your other son kidnapped me. I think I know what the hell I’m talking about. Nothing you do or say will hurt me. Spouting off shitty insults about something I no longer care about isn’t going to cover up the fact you raised a serial killer and let him out into the world, knowing exactly what kind of monster he was.”
Now, it was her turn to scoff. She flipped her thin, frail hair over her shoulder as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Now you’re saying you don’t care about Robert or your marriage.”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
Anger flashed in her eyes then, and she took a single step forward. “He was your husband.”
“He never knew the meaning of the damn word,” I shot back. “Your son wasn’t my husband; he was a fucking monster who is burning in hell for what he did.”
She stiffened, my words hitting her where it hurt.
I took another step forward. “Drop this high and mighty act, Donna. It doesn’t suit you.”
“You’ve gotten fat,” she hissed.
My head tilted to the side. “That all you got?” I prompted.
She surged forward then. “Has your new man, the one with the scar, told you about Robert’s victims, huh? Did he tell you what they looked like?”
I said nothing, waiting for it.
No, Grayson hadn’t told me about the victims, but I knew of the St. Louis River Killer.
“The reason why you needed to be skinny for Robert was because if you weren’t, he would’ve killed you ,” she seethed, gesturing to my body. “This—it would’ve driven him over the edge.”
The door shot open behind me then, banging against the wall, but I didn’t flinch. Hell, I didn’t even blink, keeping my gaze on her, the twisted mother. She snarled with satisfaction before that snarl morphed into a sharp laugh as she tossed her head back. “You thought it was abuse, my darling girl?”
My lips parted, a chill skating down my spine.
Grayson cut in. “Enough,” he growled, his chest against my back now, his hands landing on my upper arms, ready to steer me away, but my feet were planted firm.
“That wasn’t abuse! He was doing that to save you. He starved you so he could save you!” Donna yelled out, putting her hands into her hair as her gaze pierced through me. “Don’t you see? Underneath it all, he was a good person.”
I shook my head. “Don’t try to justify him,” I pushed out through the hatred, my hands balling up at my sides.
He would’ve killed you.
He starved you to save you.
Don’t you see? He was a good person!
A good person.
A good human.
A good husband.
Donna lost it then, throwing her arms out wide. “He was my son! My perfect boy, and you killed him!”
I stumbled back into Grayson, my face going slack as her words penetrated, their claws digging themselves deep into my soul, shredding all the healing I’d done.
She lunged for me then. “You bitch—”
In a flash, I was behind Grayson, against the wall, and he shot his arm out, shoving her back. She fell, her body landing on the hard floor. Her skin paled as she stared up at him, fear painted over her face now. He pointed a finger down to her, baring his teeth. “Try that again, and your fucking messed up brain will be splattered all over the damn wall.”
She nodded, her body shaking now.
Grayson got lower. “Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded once more. That wasn’t enough. “Answer me!” he roared.
Donna jumped and scrambled back; her voice filled with terror as she did as he demanded. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry.”
He turned away from her, grabbed my arm, and then, we were gone.