Chapter Fifty-Two
AJ
“Grace was definitely in east Texas or within a hundred miles of the Texas-Mexico border. The oleander flowers woven into the ropes had pollen signatures that aren’t found much north of Odessa or south of Laredo.
Mik’s still working with the dirt she was able to pull from the ropes and the burlap bag. ”
If I don’t stop pacing, I’m gonna wear a hole in the tile in front of the bulletin board. Zephyr sent me a fresh map, marked up with the rough borders from Mikayla’s tests.
My phone screen lights up with a new message.
Zephyr: One of my contacts just confirmed we’ll have fresh imaging of the area Mik identified by tomorrow night. We’re still talking several thousand square miles, but it’s a start.
I stagger back until my ass hits the edge of my desk.
AJ: You wrangled a military flyover in under an hour? It takes me longer to get a brisket plate on a Friday night.
Zephyr: I am very good at my job. And…you’re welcome.
I chuckle, but before I can reply with a proper thank you, Belle noses her way into my office, dragging her leash behind her.
She drops the braided nylon at my feet, looks up at me, and whines.
Fuck.
She’s been restless the past few days, pacing circles around the house whenever she’s not at Grace’s side. I crouch down and start scratching her behind the ears. “I know, girl. Two weeks without a run and you’re goin’ a little stir crazy, huh?”
The second she hears “run” she perks up. Her tail whips from side-to-side faster than greased lightning, and she’s practically vibrating.
I don’t want to leave Grace alone. Especially not to go do what used to be her thing. I always hated running—until it was the only way I could feel close to her.
But Belle has so much pent-up energy, if we don’t get out of the house, she’s gonna start eating my shoes again. Or worse. She’ll start in on the furniture.
I leave the leash right where it is—if I pick it up, there’s no going back—and head out to the living room.
Grace is curled up on the couch, a blanket tucked around her shoulders.
She’s staring at the street view image of the spot I found her phone and water bottle, brows furrowed and frustration pouring off of her.
“There’s…nothing,” she says with a huff. “I can feel the taser. See the sky above me. But after that…nothing.”
I sink down next to her, take the tablet, and set it on the coffee table. “Bubble wrap, remember? Layers of it. It’s gonna take time, darlin’.”
With a sigh, she winds her arms around my waist and snuggles against my chest. “I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“That it don’t.” Belle trots over, her icy gaze laying the guilt on thicker than molasses in June. “I’m thinkin’ you need a distraction.”
“Oh?” Grace peers up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. “What did you have in mind?”
My dick aches at the raw need in her voice, but then Belle lays her head on my thigh.
Fuck.
“Belle’s fixin’ to climb the walls. We could take her to the dog park for a bit. But after that…I’m open to suggestions.”
Her entire body stills. It’s too soon. I never should’ve suggested it. But before I can take it back, a flicker of excitement—fragile, like it could wink out at any moment—shines in her eyes.
“She’d really like that. I think…I would too.”
“Go get it, girl!” Belle bolts after the tennis ball, so quick she’s nothing but a gray and brown blur.
“I wish I could throw it half that far,” Grace says, watching our dog having the time of her life. “With either hand.”
Wrapped in her thick wool coat, she tips her face up, eyes closed, and lets the sun warm her cheeks.
“You’re gettin’ stronger every day. You see that, right?” I scoop up the ball Belle drops at my feet and hurl it again, farther this time, all the way to the very edge of the off-leash dog park.
Grace shakes her head softly. The corners of her eyes crinkle for a beat. “All I see are those damn clothespins.”
My heart aches at the pain in her voice. “Darlin’, two weeks ago, you couldn’t make it more than a couple of steps without the walker.”
Her gaze finds mine, the sunlight turning her blue-green eyes a deeper hue. “Two weeks ago, I didn’t know my own name.”
I swallow hard, fighting the emotion clogging my throat. “And now you’re sittin’ here in the sun, givin’ me grief about my throwing arm.”
That earns me the faintest flicker of a smile. “It’s a little weak. For a guy who hangs the moon for me.”
I give her a wink as Belle drops the ball again, then nudges my knee with her nose. “Hangin’ and throwin’ are two different muscle groups. I’ll have to start cross training.”
Grace’s smile falters. Her fingers curl tighter around the sleeves of her coat, knuckles pale. “I haven’t remembered anything new in days. About…my life. About…us. What if I never do?”
I drop to one knee in front of her, take her left hand, and run my thumb over her wedding ring.
Dirt and grass grind into my Wranglers, but I don’t give a damn.
“Then I’ll tell you. One story at a time, startin’ with the night we met.
How you looked at me like I wasn’t worth a second of your time, and I knew right then, I’d never get enough of you. ”
Her breath catches. Tears shimmer in her eyes.
“I’ll remember for both of us, Grace. And I’ll keep tellin’ those stories until they stick. Until they feel like yours again. And if they never do…” I shake my head, fiercely certain. “It won’t matter. You’re mine, memories or not. Always.”
Her lips part like she might argue, but Belle bounds back, panting, and shoves her slobbery tennis ball against Grace’s boot.
Slowly—carefully—Grace scoops it up and tosses the ball seven or eight feet. Belle takes off like it’s the best throw in the history of throws.
I can’t help my grin. “See? Belle don’t give a damn about distance. She just wants you in the game.”
Grace lets out a soft laugh, and I wish this moment could stretch on forever.
Pushing to my feet, I sweep my gaze around the park—habit after more than twenty years on the job. A corgi tries to keep pace with a German Shepherd in the west corner. Teenagers—three of ‘em—hover by the fence line smoking. Two puppies chase each others’ tails while a young couple looks on.
No one’s payin’ a lick of attention to us.
But I’m no fool. Every time we leave the house, we take a chance she’ll be recognized.
Could be as simple as a curious local, as annoying as a bottom-feeding reporter looking for a payday, or as ominous as one of the bastards who put those marks on her skin.
But for now, my only worry is how long it’s gonna take to tire Belle out.
She drops the ball at my feet six more times before sprawling in the grass, tongue hanging out, the happiest damn thing on four legs.
I pull the leash out of my jacket pocket. “Time to go home, girl.”
Belle lifts her head, but then her hackles raise and a growl tears from her throat—low and rumbling.
I scan the park just in time to see a flash of black fur barreling across the grass, headed right for us. The dog is fucking huge. Ears pinned back. Tail rigid.
“Fuck!” I jump in front of Grace, but Belle’s already braced for battle. Her lips curl back over her teeth, and she starts barking and snarling, ready to snap.
The mastiff hits her like a freight train, rolling her with a loud snarl. I dive, fingers closing on its collar, yanking with all my strength.
Belle snarls again, snapping at the other dog, and Grace’s scream slices through the air.
“Get…behind…the bench!” I shout.
For half a second, I think I’ve got him under control—then the bastard bucks like a bull, slamming me shoulder-first into the ground. Pain rockets down my arm.
I shove myself up, heart pounding. The black dog stands its ground, growling and snapping its teeth at Belle, both dogs vibrating with fury. Neither gives an inch.
Grace stumbles around the bench, clutching the back of it, pale and swaying, her eyes wide with terror.
Grace
I’m going to be sick. The pounding in my skull, the bile clawing at my throat, the sight of Belle—my sweet, Belle—being tossed around like she’s a rag doll.
She snarls and barks, a furious wall of muscle and fur and teeth, throwing herself between me and the monster trying to tear her apart. AJ has his hands locked on the mastiff’s collar, but the beast already drove him to the ground once.
Seeing him hit the hard-packed dirt—the man who’s carried me, who’s held me together since the moment we met for the second time—shatters something deep inside me. I can’t breathe, and I’m barely keeping myself upright against the bench.
The mastiff lunges again. AJ goes down hard, his entire body jolting, and a scream tears from my throat.
Shouts explode all around us. People. Men. Too many of them. Boots pounding.
“Grab the hose!”
“Got an extra leash here!”
My chest seizes, and when I try to crouch down behind the bench, my knee gives out. The ground pitches, and I stumble, catching my heel on the edge of the cement.
Air whooshes from my lungs as my shoulder smashes into the wood slats. The grass and the bench and the people and the sky all blur together. My ears ring with barks and snarls and shouts, the chaos pinning me down, paralyzing me.
A hand appears in front of me. Thick fingers. Pale skin. The cuff of a dark sweatshirt.
“Here,” a man says softly. “Let me help you.”
I blink up at him. A hoodie shadows part of his face. Hazel eyes catch the sunlight. Something stirs in the back of my mind. Familiar, but not. Fear skitters over my skin.
Before I can speak, his hand closes around mine, helping me up with surprising care. His grip steadies me when my knees buckle, and for a heartbeat, I’m caught. Trapped between gratitude and cold, primal fear.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see two men race toward the dogs with huge, stainless steel bowls, water sloshing over the sides.
“You okay?” the man asks. He’s polite. Concerned.
I can’t find AJ. He’s lost in the middle of the shouts and the barks. Where’s Belle? I need to find Belle!
“Ma’am? I need to know you’re all right.”
I nod. My throat won’t work. I don’t know him. The way his eyes search mine makes my stomach turn. Like he’s waiting for me to look down. To cower.
Belle’s snarl shatters the moment, dragging my focus back to the fray.
“Call animal control!” AJ roars, fury roughening his voice.
“We’ve got more water!” another man yells.
A sharp, piercing whistle slices through the air. It’s so strident, it stabs straight into my skull. Belle whines, then shakes her head.
The mastiff bolts. One second it’s snarling, and the next, it’s gone. Nothing but a streak of black muscle clearing the chain link fence like it’s only an inch tall.
Belle bounds over to me, hackles still high. AJ staggers after her, his movements stiff, like he isn’t quite sure nothing’s broken. Relief nearly sends me to my knees.
“I think she’s okay, darlin’. Are you?” His eyes dart to Belle, then back to me.
I look around, careful not to move my head too quickly. The man in the hoodie is gone. “Y-yes. I… Check Belle. Please.”
AJ runs his hands all over her from ears to tail. She doesn’t whine or flinch, and by the time he’s done, she’s almost calm. “No blood. No bites. But we can take her to the emergency vet. Just to be sure.”
I nod, still trembling.
“Stay here with Belle for a minute.” His voice is steady, but I hear the steel in it. The barely contained fury and frustration. “I’ll call this in when we get home. Need witness statements if we’re gonna track down that bastard’s owner.”
From his wallet, he pulls a handful of his business cards, then moves stiffly through the thinning crowd, pressing cards into hands, thanking two men who stepped in, then returning to my side.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist before he snags Belle’s harness from the bench and guides us both back to the SUV. He limps a little, his jaw tight.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks after starting the engine.
“Just a little vertigo,” I say softly. “I’m more worried about you.”
His hand finds mine across the console, rough and warm, his knuckles scraped raw. “We’ll get her checked, then I’ll let you fuss over me. Deal?”
I squeeze his fingers, but the image of the mastiff’s eyes, wild and angry, won’t let me go.