Chapter Thirty
Carrie
“Where’s grumpy?” Margo asked from across the kitchen table, looking around.
“Who?” I returned, confused.
Everyone had been here for over four hours. After the very emotional group hug that I’d shared with my co-workers, they demanded answers, and rightfully so. Grayson and I had discussed this. He was giving me the choice to tell them the truth; however, I held on to half of it.
I wasn’t ready to share that with them yet, not with Michael lurking in the corner with his badge on. I also wasn’t going to ask him to take it off for me—or for Grayson. I told them about Monica and Brandon—leaving out some of the horrible things. No one needed that image, not even me. Too bad I was stuck with it for the rest of my life.
During my testimony, no one interrupted or asked questions.
When I told them how I escaped, Rossy rose from the couch and went to stand by the window, keeping his eyes on the snow outside while listening to my winter adventure at Hallow Ranch. Sarah shed more tears, and Margo looked like she was going to be sick most of the time.
Michael said nothing, not a single word.
He hardly even looked at me, mainly focusing on his wife.
Once it was done, I told them to stay for dinner, to which Margo replied, “We aren’t leaving for awhile, Cardinal. Trust me.”
So, they stayed.
Was it awkward? Yes.
Was it comfortable? Yes. Despite all the horrors I’d seen and all the pain that was coming, I was still thankful for them, for their friendship.
Now, the three of us were sitting at the table, cradling the cups of hot tea Rossy had made while he, Grayson, and Michael had a conversation in the living room in low voices. I didn’t know if Grayson was telling them or not, but I trusted he knew what he was doing.
“The blond guy. Green eyes. Really bitchy?” Margo said, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked away from the men to her.
“Yeah, he’s Grayson’s partner,” Sarah added softly. Her voice was sounding somewhat better, and she’d gotten some of the color back in her cheeks having eaten the dinner Grayson and I made.
My eyebrows shot up. “Hayes?”
“Is that his name?” Margo asked in disbelief. She shook her head, laughing a bit. “I seriously thought his name would be Chad or something like that.”
“Did you meet him? Did he talk to you?” I pressed, eyes wide.
They both nodded. “He was here the day those assholes took you.”
“Oh,” I murmured, looking down at my tea, watching the steam rise from the cup.
Had Hayes been rude to them?
“Speaking of, where’s Brandon now?” Sarah asked when I looked back up.
“In Vegas,” I answered, sliding my eyes to Margo. “Hayes is tracking him.” I went on to explain the trouble Brandon had gotten himself into, having left that part out in my original trauma dump. When I was done, both girls stared at me. I lifted my mug to my lips, taking a sip, relishing the warm liquid sliding down my throat.
“And you said Brandon murdered that woman? The one who was staring at you in the bookstore?” Margo asked, as if she was trying to piece everything together in her mind.
I nodded, remembering the hatred in Monica’s eyes, the broken soul hiding behind it all. “She was Robert’s lover. They’d been having an affair our entire relationship.”
I felt Sarah’s eyes on me, but she said nothing. I’d give anything to know what was running through her mind right then. Unable to handle it, I looked down to my tea, my fingers tightening around the mug. Suddenly, a hand was reaching out over the table, stopping just above my mug, her black-painted nails turning over as she exposed her palm. “Carrie, look at me.”
My head snapped up. She said my actual name. Margo never did that. Her face was soft, her brows scrunched together in worry as her eyes shined with love. “Take my hand.”
Slowly, I released the mug and put my hand over hers, feeling her warm fingers curl around mine, squeezing. “You need to understand me when I say this, because no one else will.” Her eyes flicked over to Sarah for a split second.
I waited, anxiety swirling in my stomach.
“We aren’t mad at you.”
Five words.
That was all it took to rock me.
My mouth opened and closed a few times. “W-what? I don’t—”
“You don’t have to play coy with us, Cardinal. We can see it. I saw it the second you opened the door, but I was too overwhelmed to say anything. All I wanted to do was hug my friend, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Margo explained, her voice growing quieter and softer with each word. Her hand tightened around mine, her grip firm. “We. Aren’t. Mad. At. You.”
Emotion gathered in my throat, and I knew I was about to cry again. All I could do was nod.
“We love you,” Sarah whispered. My neck twisted to her, finding tears in her eyes as she added, “So much.”
A sniffle came from Margo then. Sarah and I looked over to her, and she wiped her tears away. “I’ve cried more in the last three fucking weeks than I ever have in my entire life,” she muttered, pointing at me. “And that’s saying something, because my life is shit.”
“Wha—”
“Sarah.”
Michael’s voice cut me off, and we all found him standing at the entrance of the kitchen, his face stone cold, focused on his wife. “We have to go. The kids need to get to bed.”
Grayson and Rossy stood behind him in the living room. Grayson had his arms folded over his massive chest, his jaw tight, brow furrowed. Rossy, to my surprise, had the same look painted on his face, looking like a completely different man.
Sarah nodded to her husband before spinning back in her chair to face me. “We need to get the kids from my parents,” she explained apologetically.
I shook my head. “Of course.”
My friend stared at me for three long seconds, as if she was trying to memorize how I looked. “See you tomorrow?” she asked softly.
Swallowing the glass in my throat, I nodded. “Yes, please.”
She stood, pressing a hard kiss to the top of my head and murmuring a goodbye. Then, Michael and her left. As soon as the door was closed, Margo let out a sigh. “I’d thought they would never leave.”
“Margo,” Rossy scolded.
She shot our boss a glare. “Not Sarah. Just Michael.”
“He didn’t even look at me,” I whispered, staring at Sarah’s empty seat.
“It’s not you, darling,” Rossy promised, coming into the kitchen.
Grayson followed, silently and swiftly, not stopping until he was standing behind my chair.
“He’s just…” Margo trailed off, looking for the right word. “Processing.”
Rossy nodded, pouring himself another cup of tea. “Would you care for one, Grayson?” he asked, looking at my lover.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” he grunted above me.
Margo looked up at him, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “Thank you for saving my friend,” she said.
Grayson said nothing.
“Also, I’m sorry for calling you a big, stupid man,” she added, looking at me. “I was just angry and worried.”
“Believe me, I didn’t take offense to it,” Grayson returned.
Rossy came to the table then, taking Sarah’s seat. “Are you sure you’re alight, Carrie?”
“Yes, I’m alright.” No, I was not. I was on the verge of falling apart.
“Is there anything we can do for you? Or for you, Grayson?” he asked.
Before Grayson had a chance to answer, I blurted, “I want to go to the store tomorrow.”
My boss’ eyes widened behind his wire glasses. “A-alright, dear. Of course, you—”
“—no.”
“Grayson, please,” I whispered, twisting my neck to look up at him. He was already looking at me. “Please.”
“Carrie, I’m not taking any chances until I get the call from Hayes.”
He was right. I knew he was right. So, I said nothing, only giving him a nod.
Rossy and Margo stayed for another hour, catching me up on everything. Rossy pressed pause on writing his book, but he still made Margo focus on her online classes so she wouldn’t fail. Sarah had barely been into the store since the day I was taken, and according to Margo, she had fallen ill shortly after that.
Maybe that was why she looked so worn down and her voice was off.
Then, after Rossy and Margo left, Grayson and I did the dishes in silence, shut down the house and went to bed.
“When this semester is over, I’m going to report this professor,” Margo grumbled from her side of the couch, typing away on her laptop. She’d been here all morning, having shown up at my door at eight on the dot with a backpack over her shoulder. Grayson didn’t scold her for invading; he simply opened the door wider, let her in, and when he cooked breakfast, he brought her a plate.
Before he went into his office to get updates from the team, he whispered in my ear, “She’s sticking to you like glue because she’s afraid of losing you again. I like her.”
That was two hours ago, and Grayson still hadn’t come out of his office.
I looked up from my journal, studying Margo. She seemed more relaxed today, not as on edge. Her hair was down, having a slight wave to it as it hung over her shoulders. She was in black leggings and a Three Days Grace t-shirt and dark purple socks covered her feet, her books scattered around her on my sectional.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“It’s a mid-term project for one of my business classes,” she answered, looking up to me with a scowl on her face. “However, the professor doesn’t like me.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s—”
“—he told me, Cardinal. He said I was too old to be in this class, that starting college at twenty-eight was a waste of time.”
“Fuck him,” I bit off.
Margo’s eyes widened, her dark green pools flashing. “Whoa.”
“What?”
A funny look of confusion appeared on her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss before.”
“I don’t cuss at work,” I told her.
Out of the corner of my eye, Grayson appeared, stepping out of the hallway, his boots carrying him straight to me. Not giving a single shit about Margo’s presence, he grabbed my chin and put his lips to mine, kissing me slowly until my heart was racing and heat bloomed in my cheeks. When he pulled away, a real smile spread across his face, taking all the breath I had left away. “He’s gone, Sunshine.”
“What?” I rasped, grabbing his wrist. “Brand—”
“Hayes just called me,” he confirmed. “You’re safe now.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth, stopping the sob.
“Wait—so my girl is safe now? For real?” Margo asked.
Grayson looked over to her, gave her a nod, and looked back to me. “It’s done, baby.”
I tossed my journal and pen to the side, shooting up from the couch and locking my arms around Grayson’s neck. I buried my face in his neck, sobs of gratitude and freedom leaving me. He held on to me tightly. “It’s over, Carrie,” he cooed over and over, swaying us back and forth.
When we broke apart, we both found Margo still in her spot, her laptop sitting on the cushion beside her, her legs curled up to her chest, her arms around them. Tears were running down her face, rolling over the butterfly tattoo on her neck. “Don’t worry about me, guys. I’m justs so, so happy.”
I smiled at her, faking it as a dark reminder tugged at the back of my brain.
Brandon was gone.
Now, the truth about his brother had to come out.
And I would lose Grayson.
“Can she go to the bookstore now?” Margo asked, laughing a bit as she stood. “My Cardinal is safe now! Everything is good!” She came to me with open arms like it was Christmas morning, joy lighting up her face.
As she hugged me tightly, I looked over her shoulder at Grayson, not knowing what to do or say.
Clearing his throat, he answered gruffly. “Whatever Carrie wants to do. She’s safe now, and that’s all that matters to me.”
Somewhere on the west coast.
The man took a drag of his cigarette as he rolled down the window, keeping his eyes on the two-lane highway stretched out before him.
He was tired. He’d traveling non-stop. First the shitty flight, then nabbing a car from the airport parking lot, followed by driving up the coast, to a shitty boat town.
The man took a second drag, knowing this was his last cigarette. He’d need to get more soon, or his tick would set in again. Then, everyone’s day would be ruined.
A loud ring sounded from his coat in the passenger seat, the phone vibrating just as loud. It irritated him. However, that would be the boss calling, and the man couldn’t ignore the boss. He wanted to keep all his limbs attached to his body.
Keeping his eyes on the road, he leaned over, blindly fishing the device out before righting himself and answering the call. “Yes, sir.”
“Where are you?” Jack asked, sounding irritated. That wasn’t his real name, but it was the only name he’d given the man when he joined the Black Mist almost two months ago. He was still new and needed to pay his dues.
“I’m almost two hours away. Should be there soon, sir.”
“You get this job done, and I’ll make sure you’re treated right when you return,” Jack said. There was something in his voice that made the man feel uneasy, but he shoved it down.
“Of course, sir.”
“That fucking bounty hunter is gone,” Jack sighed. “He was beginning to irritate me. You know I don’t like that.”
The man did because the last time Jack got irritated, he skinned his bodyguard alive.
“And one more thing, Evan,” Jack called, getting his attention once more.
“Y-yes, sir?”
“If this woman is as pretty as our dear friend said she is, don’t kill her. Bring her to me.” With that, Jack hung up.
That dear friend was dead now. That was the first job for Evan, taking care of the body. His arms ached from dragging the body of that fat fuck, Brandon Hale, deep into the desert before setting it on fire. Still, the job was done, and that was that.
Now, he was heading to complete another task: get Carrie Hale’s fucking money.
Jack said he wanted all debts paid, including a dead man’s.