Chapter 12
Grant
The Attempt
Ishouted for Sophia to get down without realizing she’d done so already. I’d never seen someone fall that fast. So, naturally, I thought she’d been shot. But with no glass around, I told myself another story.
A rock.
It had to have been a motherfuckin’ rock.
If it happened again, I’d know it wasn’t a stunt done by some crazy bird, or squirrel. But for now, that’s what I told myself as I dove to the other side of the bed.
Sophia was curled in a tight ball, her small figure shaking.
I pressed my palm to her forehead, finding a sheen of sweat coating her skin.
Fuck. I dropped to the floor on my knees and checked her over, saying her name and checking for a response.
She was breathin’ fast, her eyes wider than the full moon, fixed on… nothing.
“Sophia. Sophia, darlin’, snap out of it.
” I swept the hair from her cheek. No response, not even a blink.
Catatonic, I believed they called this state.
I’d spent months researching her, and didn’t find one thing in her public records to show why she’d react this way.
Sophia Pierson was supposed to be a prima donna—all fine jewels with as much depth as my tin of dip.
Cowering on the ground of a four-star hotel was supposed to be above her.
According to how the media portrayed her, that is.
“You’re alright.” A chuckle I didn’t feel escaped as I cupped my shaking palm to her cheek. “Fuck, darlin’, it was only a rock. We’re okay.”
She didn’t react to that either. I scooped her up and set her down on the bed.
The window let in hardly any light, so although I was pretty sure I’d seen a rock hit the glass, I wasn’t exactly positive.
And now that my mind was back on track to figuring that out, I realized the darkened lot where I’d parked my truck was visible from the room.
I hooked a finger around the sheer blinds and squinted as I pushed them aside.
“G-Grant?” My brows dipped as I looked back at Sophia, who was now sitting up, rubbing at her eyes like she’d been asleep. “What…what happ—”
Another loud bang followed by two more right after sent her hands up to her ears as she screamed.
I quickly lunged for her and muffled her scream with my palm.
“Be real still and try to be quiet. I won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you.
Swear it.” She nodded frantically, her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears.
“I need you to stay here. No matter what, you don’t leave this room.
Okay?” Another nod, and I dropped my hand from her lips, then pressed a finger to mine, signaling for her to remain silent.
She nodded again, then scooted back against the headboard, watching as I went back to the window.
I pushed aside the blinds enough to reveal a fine dusting on the glass from what was probably concrete chunks, confirmed when I glanced down at the mulch beds. Bits of white concrete were scattered below, having shattered upon impact, but I couldn’t see a damn soul.
I swear to fuck if they’re hidin’ behind my Betsy, I’ll pull the bat from my trunk and make them wish they were never born.
I turned back to Sophia. “I’m headin’ down there. Where are you going to stay, Peach?”
“Right h-here.”
“Good.” I left and went down the hall, focusing on every camera before taking the flight of stairs.
For some reason, not even rich people had cameras in the stairwells of their overpriced hotels.
Which was great—bein’ on a wanted list for whatever was about to happen was not part of my two-week plan with Sophia.
I pushed through the exit door instead of walking to the front of the hotel and pressed my back to the stuccoed wall.
As I was wagerin’ whether I should wait for another bang or not, the noise came again, followed by the sounds of sneakers slapping on pavement.
“Fuckin’ hell,” I muttered under my breath as I saw a figure dart behind—you guessed it—my Betsy. “Fucker.”
I reached into my pocket and pressed the lock button, making Betsy chirp a faint sound. The truck was already locked, but the sound should’ve made them—
Yep.
There they go.
I darted after them, stopping only to jump on the rear tire and reach into the trunk for my bat, which would be quieter than firing off the gun I should’ve left with Sophia.
I had to hope the door would be enough and that she’d keep it locked.
My heart raced with that odd sort of adrenaline that fueled me before any fight, the one I’d been called psychotic for experiencing.
Or maybe it was the delight clear as day on my face each time my bat, or fist, bashed into the side of a skull or met the backs of knees, bringing my victim straight down to the ground.
Just thinkin’ about it sent more tingles down my spine.
“Here, kitty kitty,” I taunted as I slowed and slung the bat over my shoulder, listening to the sounds of the woods as I waited for the slender figure cloaked in a black hoodie to make an appearance.
“Come on out, now. I know you wanna have some fun.” Leaves rustled and then turned sharper, followed by a grunt that’d come from behind a tree maybe ten feet away. “Slippin’ ain’t very professional.”
I assumed the figure would take off runnin’ in the opposite direction, noticing my bat and my psychotic face as I grinned the moment more black peeked out from behind a tree. But, no. The dumbass came right for me.
I skirted the attack and swung my bat at the backs of his knees right as he passed. He buckled to the ground faster than a Florida downpour on a hot summer day. Almost too easy. He groaned, his body bending and bowing to reach for where I’d just fucked him up, though clearly, not enough.
Moonlight shimmered through a few nighttime clouds, revealing more black fabric covering the guy's face. The hoodie draped around his body gave way to how scrawny he was, maybe young? A teen playin’ a prank? The bat thudded to the dirt as I let it go and cracked my knuckles.
“Why’re you throwin’ shit at my window?”
“P-please,” he begged with a voice that sounded somewhat forced or altered, his fingers sprawled in front of him to shield himself. Not that it would help. “P-please don’t h-hurt me.” He glanced through the parting of trees, showing a small piece of the parking lot.
I stepped around to block his view, bringing his attention back to me. “You didn’t answer my question very well, and I’ve got enough of that goin’ on in my life. Don’t need it from some punk who thought throwin’ cement at my fucking window sounded like a good way to spend their Saturday evening.”
“No.” He shook his head as I flexed out my fingers. “I mean, yes. Yes. I’m sorry, man. Please.”
I cocked my head. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-tw—wait.” I raised a brow. “Sixteen,” he whispered. “I’m sixteen. Just a kid.”
“Hmm.” Biting down on my lip, I assessed him with a narrowed gaze.
Over eighteen and it’d be grounds to beat him into oblivion.
A shitty teen who didn’t know better, I’d have to let go.
We all did dumb shit as teens, so maybe this had all been just terrible timing for a prank.
Maybe he was reachin’ for that straw when he changed his answer.
“Sounds like you’re mighty confused about your age. ”
He nodded. “Yes. Yes. That’s it. I’m…I think I hit my head on that tree.”
Doubtful.
“You scared my girlfriend half to death, you know. I don’t take kindly to those who scare her.
” The twenty-two slash sixteen-year-old didn’t have to know if Sophia was mine or not.
As far as he knew, he just got knocked down another notch on my shit post. We may not have been in Alliston Springs, but we were close enough.
Most knew me in these parts, and most knew not to fuck with what was mine.
My truck.
My shop.
My friends.
If it was mine, it was off-fucking-limits.
“I—” he started, right before a scream—feminine and raw and calling my name—pierced through the night. The guy jumped to his feet, and his voice changed to one that sounded somewhat familiar. “Gotta run.”
Blood thrummed in my ears as I glanced between where I’d heard Sophia calling for me and the guy who’d taken off.
Shit. I didn’t have time to think about whose voice it had been as I lunged for my bat and ran back toward my truck, hearing her muffled cries getting louder as I returned to the parking lot.
Not far from the exit door of the stairwell was another guy, taller and covered from head to toe in black just like the other guy, trying to force Sophia into the back of a dark-colored sedan.
Navy? Green? I couldn’t tell, but I ran toward it as my fist tightened around the handle of my bat.
I did, however, notice there was no one in the driver’s seat.
If this was supposed to be a quick job, he and his partner were failing.
It would’ve been laughable if his fingers weren’t digging into Sophia’s sides as he tried to force her into the back seat, even though she was kicking against the car, making it nearly impossible for him.
Her eyes widened as I got closer, which the guy didn’t notice.
I whistled, starting low and bringing it up to a higher pitch, and that’s when the guy froze, his eyes darting around, searchin’ for me.
The lights being out in the parking lot were actually working in my favor as he looked and looked and seemed to find no one.
Whereas my vision had adjusted to the night, I couldn’t say the same for him.
In his brief moment of stillness, Sophia—who’d just been frozen in fear from a loud noise—chose her fight over flight instinct as she jabbed her elbow back. He winced, but kept his hands on her.
“Bitch!” he sneered, still trying to bend her body into the car while her legs barred him from doing so. Atta girl. “Stop fighting and get in!”