17. CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 17
SCARLETT
I’m not the same Scarlett I used to be.
I won’t let my fear control me. Even if the frightening thoughts keep trying to convince me otherwise.
If this happened before Sleepy Hollow, before Grant, I’d spend sleepless nights with all the lights turned on. Every commute to work would be accompanied by an anxiety attack. I’d tell everyone I was fine with a bright smile painted on; while inside I’d be silently crumbling.
Not now. Not anymore.
Now, whenever a shaft of fear hits me and that familiar panic starts to resurface, I stop myself. I spend a minute box-breathing. Then I take stock.
I remind myself of all the important things. I’m safe at Grant’s cabin. Grant is here, and he won’t let anyone hurt me. We have two dogs who won’t hesitate to alert us if there’s a threat, along with an extensive security system. All the guys at Blade and Arrow are behind me. So are Oliver, and his partner, Kane .
And I’m not weak. I fought back during the robbery at the Cunninghams’. I didn’t give up when that man broke into my house. And Grant is teaching me self-defense—simple but effective moves I can use if I’m ever in danger again.
Hopefully, I won’t be.
Hopefully, the police will find something, or Blade and Arrow will work their magic, and all of this will be over soon.
In the meantime, I’m going to focus on the good things, just like I promised Maya I’d do when we FaceTimed last night.
“I know it’s hard,” she told me, empathy written all over her face. “I remember how frightening it was; knowing someone was trying to hurt me. Are you holding up okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m trying to think about the good stuff,” I told her. “Like you did. And Ari and Thea and Rose. I have you guys supporting me. Everyone at Blade and Arrow. The station and the ambulance corps. Mrs. Plimpton even stopped over with a stack of casseroles and boxes of cookies and invited me to join her book club.”
Smiling, I continued, “And I have Grant. The most incredible man I’ve ever met. And he’s in love with me. He wants me to live here with him. We’re going to celebrate holidays and take trips and build a life together. So that’s pretty amazing. That’s what I’m focusing on.”
It would be easy for all this crap—someone paid to kill me, how insane is that—to crowd everything else out. But I’m not letting it .
I’m taking control of the things I can and trusting the people I care about to help with the things I can’t.
One thing I can control? My relationship with Grant.
Since we got the news from Cole two days ago, Grant’s been treating me like delicate blown-glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. He gives me tender kisses and gentle hugs and the occasional desperate embrace, when he just holds me silently, his lips pressed to the top of my head.
I get it. For a protector like Grant, this has to be just as hard on him as it is on me.
But I still haven’t forgotten about our interrupted romantic moment. The most romantic moment I’ve ever experienced, really. Finding out the man I’m in love with loves me right back? That’s a memory I’ll carry with me forever. And I’m not letting some crappy hitman ruin it.
So I’m taking matters into my own hands.
Grant’s in the shower, cleaning up after one of his very intense workouts. Since he’s not going to the gym right now, he has a modified workout that he does at home, consisting of hundreds of situps and pushups and pullups and sparring with a punching bag he installed out on the back porch.
If I didn’t want Grant before—which I did—after watching him exercise, I definitely would. He works out in just a pair of mesh shorts, all his arm and chest muscles flexing and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and oh my , does he look sexy doing it.
As soon as he headed into the bathroom and I heard the water turn on, I leapt up from my seat on the couch and put my plan into action.
It’s not a complicated plan. It’s pretty much just me, naked, joining Grant in the shower. Maybe I’ll arm myself with a washcloth and offer to wash him all over.
The important part is to let him know how much I want him. That I’m not breakable. That making love is more powerful than any of the bad stuff.
Still, a small kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight in my stomach the moment before I open the shower door. I’m not sure why—he’s seen me naked plenty of times—but this time feels different.
Maybe because this time is more meaningful, now that we’re in love and moving in together?
I’m not usually insecure about my body, but maybe because the lighting in the bathroom is so darn bright?
Side note to myself; ask Grant about replacing these bright LED bulbs with the ones that give off the warmer, more flattering light.
I’m frozen, hand on the shower door handle, washcloth clutched in my other, hesitating.
No. I’m strong. Brave. Confident in my relationship with Grant.
So I take a deep breath and let it out on a slow exhale as I slide the shower door open. As I step inside I freeze again, but this time for a different reason .
Oh, my.
Grant looks incredible .
Muscles everywhere—not bulging, like a bodybuilder, but built from hours of full-body activity—with water sluicing down them, turning his skin a gleaming gold. With his back to me, I get a good look at his broad shoulders and the firm curves of his ass and those impressive thighs and—
I haven’t even stepped under the water, and I’m wet already.
Before I can say anything, Grant turns around. His eyes go wide, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Scarlett. What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” I hold up the washcloth I’m holding. “I thought I could help. And once you’re clean…”
His gaze drifts down my body and back up again. “Baby.” He swallows hard. “I was… Now? Are you sure?”
While his expression is still hesitant, his body is anything but. As I watch, he grows longer and thicker, velvety skin flushing with excitement. I glance away from his arousal and back to his face. “I’m very sure. I know you’re trying to be gentle. But I don’t need that right now.”
Grant takes a step closer. His arousal twitches. In almost a growl, he asks, “What do you need, then?”
All my nerves disappear as I move forward to meet him. Pressing my body against his, I stretch up to kiss his jaw. “Our romantic moment got messed up. When I told you I loved you. And you said it to me. We were supposed to make love. That’s what I want. To be with you. The man I’m in love with. ”
His eyes go dark, pupils dilating. One hand moves to the small of my back, tugging me closer to him. “I was trying to give you some time. But if that’s not what you want—”
“I want you.” I stroke his length, caressing the swollen tip, spreading the silken dampness along his heated skin. “And I want to feel you inside me. Now.”
“Ah, baby.” His hand slides down to cup my ass. “If that’s what you want, I am more than happy to give it to you.”
As his fingers move between my thighs, working their irresistible magic, I swallow back a moan. Holding his gaze, I ask, “Do you want to make love to me?”
“Shit, baby. Yes. So much it hurts. I thought I was doing the right thing.” His lips quirk. “But fortunately, I have you to tell me when I’m messing things up.”
“You’re not. You didn’t.” One finger plunges inside me, then a second, and this time I can’t stifle a moan of pleasure. “I’m just—” Oh. He finds my sensitive bud and rubs it just the way he knows I like. “Helping,” I finish.
Grant lifts me into his arms and I instinctively wrap my legs around him. My womb clenches as he nudges at the apex of my thighs. All my inner muscles quiver in anticipation.
“I like it when you help,” Grant says. Then he captures my mouth with his. After a kiss long enough to make my lungs burn, he pulls away and continues, “I love it when you tell me what you want, baby. It’s the sexiest thing.”
My voice goes husky. “I want you inside me. Now. ”
“Okay.” Grant adjusts me in his arms, turning us so my back is against the slick shower wall. His expression goes hard and hungry. “I want to be inside you, too. More than anything.”
I clutch his shoulders as he slowly enters me, still a tight fit, but achingly perfect.
Once he’s fully inside, he stills. Neck muscles tight, his jaw like stone, he gazes at me with so much love it makes my heart stop for a second. “I love you, Scarlett. I didn’t know love could feel like this. But holding you, being inside you, joined… this is everything.”
It really is.
Looking into his eyes as we make love, seeing all his love right there, on full display.
Hearing him say over and over how much he loves me.
Feeling him inside me, first a tender lovemaking, then growing faster and more passionate.
The incredible sensations flooding my body. My skin on fire. Every touch sends sizzles of electricity. The building pressure and desire inside me.
When we’re joined, nothing else matters.
When I come in an explosion of stars and fireworks, my vision a blur of white flashes of light, it feels like I’m flying.
And when Grant follows me, pulsing inside me, groaning, “I love you so much, baby,” there’s a flicker of thought— what if we decide to stop taking birth control? How would it feel to carry his baby ?
While Grant holds me in his arms, protecting me from the spray of the shower, all the bad stuff is gone and it’s just me and the man I love.
It’s all perfect.
Of course, perfect moments can only last so long.
In this case, we got about two hours of bliss. Time enough to shower again, but actually get ourselves clean this time. Enough time to make dinner and look at the photos of Mrs. Plimpton’s shed, which should be completed by the end of the week.
We were just about to put on Bachelors in the Bush when Cole called, and like the last time, I just knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
This time, he’s coming over with Oliver, so my nerves are even more on edge. The police and Blade and Arrow both coming over with an update? Especially when Oliver is coming over officially and not as Maya’s brother who’s helping out her husband’s company.
“It’s going to be okay,” Grant says as he heads towards the front door, where Cole and Oliver are waiting. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. I promise.”
I glance longingly at the TV, wishing we could find out the status of Jonah and Meredith’s relationship instead of waiting to hear news about whoever wants to kill me.
And people wonder why I like reality romance shows ?
Looking back at Grant, I force a smile that feels more like a grimace. “I know. It’s going to be fine.”
But I’m not feeling fine as Cole and Oliver take their seats across from me, both of them wearing matching solemn expressions.
I also don’t feel great when I catch them glancing at Grant, exchanging silent looks and chin lifts which I’m taking to mean they’re worried about how I’m going to take this.
My nails are digging into Grant’s leg, probably verging on painfully. But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t complain. He just keeps rubbing my back in large, soothing circles.
Cole and Oliver turn to look at each other for what feels like the tenth time—though I’m sure it isn’t really—as if they’re deciding who’s going to be the one who gives me the bad news.
I can’t take the nervous pressure building inside me and blurt, “Just tell me. One of you. I don’t care who. I’m freaking out here. Just say it.”
Cole presses his lips together like he’s hiding a smile and says, “You sound just like Maya.”
Oliver nods. “Pretty much.” Then he dips his head at me. “Sorry, Scarlett. You’re right. It’s hard to not think about you like a little sister, and want to protect you.”
“Same,” Cole agrees, an apology in his eyes.
“I have two older brothers,” I grumble. “I don’t need more.” Then I feel guilty—just because I’m stressed out doesn’t mean Cole and Oliver don’t mean well. Or that they don’t legitimately care about me. And Oliver has known me since I was fourteen, so I can understand why he’d feel protective of me.
“Sorry,” I concede. “I didn’t mean to snap. But can you please tell me? I know it’s bad. So just rip off the band-aid and tell me.”
Oliver leans forward, his dark blue eyes fixed on me. “It’s not bad news, exactly. It’s good, in a way. But it’s also… well. It could be upsetting.”
“Ollie…” I harden my tone and use the nickname Maya gave Oliver that I know drives him crazy.
Cole is married, so he has a better understanding of the various tones of a woman’s voice, and he knows how close I am to losing it. “We found out who did it,” he says quickly.
And like ripping off a bandage, he rushes through the rest of it. “Once we had the statement from Swell, Leo started searching the dark web. Apparently, Swell was hired using an online marketplace for finding hitmen.”
Grant swears under his breath.
“It took some time, because the original post was deleted. But Leo found it in a hidden archive,” Cole continues. “Then he was able to trace it back through a series of VPNs and IP addresses to find the person who wanted to have you killed.”
“Who?” grits out Grant. “Who did it?”
There’s a pause when the loudest noise is the sound of my heart pounding. Then Oliver says, “It was Richard Cunningham.”
Just like that, my heart stops.
Everything goes hot and cold at once .
My lungs seize.
Gray seeps into my vision.
“What?” I wheeze. “ Why ?”
Grant wraps his arm around me, but it feels distant, like it’s happening to some other person.
“We don’t know yet,” Oliver replies, anger darkening his eyes. “But we have him in custody. Once Cunningham meets with his attorney, we’ll work on getting a confession. Finding out why.”
“I don’t—” It feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. “I don’t understand. I’ve never… I barely talk to him. It doesn’t make sense.”
“We’ll find out the reason.” Oliver’s jaw sets. “He’s not getting away with it.”
“ Could he?” Now panic is racing through me, stealing my breath. In stops and starts, I manage, “Are you sure… can he get out… what if his lawyer…”
“Baby,” Grant croons. He frames my face, gently forcing me to look at him. “It is going to be okay.”
“The evidence is irrefutable,” Cole says confidently. “Leo traced the post directly to Richard Cunningham’s personal computer.”
“A laptop that we found locked in a desk inside Cunningham’s office,” Oliver adds.
“And once we discovered the post, Leo tracked the bitcoin payment.” Cole gives me a grim nod. “The man in your house was definitely hired and paid by Cunningham. ”
“And you’re certain he won’t get out on a technicality?” Grant narrows his eyes at Oliver. “Some police screwup? A case of some rich guy paying his way out of it?”
Oliver shakes his head. “Absolutely not.” To me, he adds gently, “Scarlett. I know I’m new in Sleepy Hollow. But I have extensive connections all around the country. Ones in law enforcement. Government agencies. I will not let Cunningham walk. I swear it.”
“Blade and Arrow won’t let Cunningham get away with it.” Cole’s voice dips dangerously. “That’s a promise.”
“ I won’t let him get away with it,” Grant growls. And from the banked fury in his gaze, I can tell Grant wants to punish Cunningham himself.
A hurricane of emotions hit me. Disbelief. Sorrow. Cautious optimism. Fear. “So… it’s over? I’m safe?”
With a grim smile, Oliver lifts his chin. “Yes. Cunningham’s not going to get a chance to hurt you again.”
And now the tears come.
As they burst free, I blurt out, “Thank you,” before burying my face in Grant’s chest.
His lips press to the top of my head, gentle even though his muscles are tense. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
Yes. Amid the chaos of emotion; the most important things.
I have Grant. My friends. I’m safe.
It’s finally over.