Chapter 3 #2
I crossed a line with her. I should have held back. But he hadn’t. His control had broken. Because Emerson was a weakness for him.
“I’m hardly the reckless type,” he assured her. He tightened his grip when Trevor heaved hard. “The handcuffs, Emerson. I could use them about now.”
She darted away.
I’m only reckless when it comes to you.
He watched her rush away. And then…
He hauled Trevor to his feet. Flipped him around and faced him. Even let go of the creep. For the moment. “You the reason that Misty has a black eye?”
“ Fuck off ? —”
“Dumbass, you just assaulted a federal agent.” He’d deliberately told the guy he was a Fed so there would be no confusion. Gray had known the prick would take a swing, sooner or later. “That means you’re getting a swift ticket to jail tonight.”
Trevor tried to hit him again. Gray let him. A punch that rolled off Gray’s shoulder because the idiot couldn’t hit for shit and was drunk as hell.
“That’s twice.” Gray nodded. “You don’t get another hit.
I’ll swing next time. You’ll go down. You’ll wake up in jail.
” He positioned his body in front of Misty and the kid.
Too much like a nightmare from my past. He kept his eyes on a glaring Trevor even as he asked Misty, “He the reason for your black eye?”
No response.
“And the fingerprint marks on your throat? Did he leave those, too?” Gray pushed. Because he’d seen them, too.
The kid didn’t make a sound. No crying. No screams. Nothing.
“Misty, don’t say a word!” Spittle flew from Trevor’s mouth. “I’ll make you so damn sorry if you do!”
Gray’s hands fisted at his sides. “No, you won’t.” Absolute certainty. “You won’t do a single thing to her.” He would see to it.
“I’ve helped you, Misty!” More rage. More spittle. “You and that dumb bastard kid of yours!”
A hard gasp from Misty.
“I let him in my house, I gave him food— I am the reason you’re both alive!”
Gray rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not, you sonofabitch. You’re the reason she’s got bruises. And the reason the kid is too scared to speak.”
“He can’t speak!” Trevor bellowed. “Good for nothing kid can’t?—”
Gray prepared to take the bastard down. A snarl broke from his throat because this attack was about to be brutal.
“I’m leaving.” Misty’s paper-thin voice cut into the night before Gray could destroy the jerk. “I don’t love you, and I’m not letting you hurt me anymore. I’m done!”
Hell, the fuck, yes. “Great choice, Misty,” Gray applauded. “Top-notch. You deserve one hell of a lot better. So does the kid. Trust me on this one. You deserve more. From where I am standing, basically anyone will be better than this loser.”
A choked yell broke from Trevor. He barreled forward. This time, Gray was the one to deliver a punch to the jerk’s stomach. All of the air left Trevor’s lungs in a whoosh as he doubled-over in pain.
“Look at that,” Gray bent toward him, “you just walked into my fist. So clumsy. Bet you’ve told plenty of stories about Misty being clumsy, haven’t you?
Stories to hide the BS that you did to her.
” He positioned his head near Trevor’s ear.
“You will never get near Misty or her kid again. You will never put your hands on her again. Not on either of them. Because if you do…”
Heels clicked as Emerson rushed back. “I have the handcuffs!”
Trevor lifted his head. His blood-shot eyes locked on Gray’s face. He blinked. Twice.
Gray smiled at him. A warm smile. Friendly. Because they did have an audience now. “I will make your life a living hell,” he told Trevor softly, voice lethal. Then, louder, he added, “You’re under arrest for assaulting a federal officer…and, hey, Misty, you want to press some charges, too?”
The blue lights swirled in the motel’s parking lot. Trevor glared as he was shoved into the back of the patrol car.
Gray sent him a friendly wave. “Enjoy prison, asshole! See if you like being on the receiving end of punches! An exciting new life awaits you. So many new friends. So many new ways for you to become the bitch.”
“Gray,” Emerson chided. “I get that I’m still learning the ropes, but I don’t think you’re supposed to taunt the perps.”
He shrugged. Considering that he wanted to be ripping the jerk apart, he figured that taunting was certainly the lesser of two evils.
He could see Trevor’s mouth moving frantically, and Gray was certain the camera in the car was picking up all sorts of interesting things—statements that Trevor would certainly regret making later.
“Not my fault if he gets mad and makes threats…or confessions.”
Gray shifted his position slightly, bracing his legs apart. He’d grabbed some shoes, not like he wanted to be standing in the parking lot barefoot. He’d answered the questions for the responding officers, gave them a full report, and, hell, yes, he was gleefully watching as Trevor was taken away.
One less perp on the street. One less bastard who gets off on hurting those who are weaker.
The couple in room three had come out. Backed up Gray’s statements. Apparently, they’d been watching through their blinds. Watching, not intervening.
But when the cops had come swarming with their sirens blaring, the couple had run out.
Trevor would not be hurting anyone else for a while.
“Thank you.” Soft. Hesitant.
Misty.
She’d lingered near him. Had hunched her shoulders at a few of Trevor’s eruptions but had stood firm.
Emerson had remained at her side the whole time.
Not pushing. Not asking a ton of questions.
Just being there. Emerson was a steady, reassuring presence.
He’d noticed that about her on a few occasions with other vics.
She soothed and comforted, and he swore, she almost seemed to do it just by breathing.
She doesn’t soothe me, though. Just the opposite. When he was around Emerson, he felt amped up. Far too out of control.
“I appreciate you coming to my aid, Agent Stone,” Misty said.
He glanced at Misty. Her tears were gone. The hunching in her shoulders had eased. The little boy with her still curled one arm around her right leg. Timothy. That was his name. Gray had learned that Timothy was four years old, and he was deaf.
The kid peered up at Gray. Gray winked at him.
The kid’s eyes just got bigger.
“Guess it was my lucky night, huh?” Misty asked. She sent Gray a weak smile. One that he caught in the swirl of the lights. “Having you here. Had no idea a Fed was staying at the same motel.”
He studied her. Hated those marks on her.
She was twenty-one. Her birthday had been last week.
Talk about a shit-poor birthday present— being stalked by your ex.
But Gray would make sure that things changed for Misty and Timothy.
There were strings that he could pull. He’d pull them.
Hard. “The more distance you have between you and Trevor, the luckier you are.”
Her lower lip trembled. She looked down at her hands. Twisted them. Then let one hand fall so she could stroke her son’s hair. “You probably think I’m weak, don’t you? Pretty pathetic. Being with someone like him. Someone who hurt me so?—”
“Misty.”
She looked up at him.
He kept his voice gentle, something that was hard because he truly did not have a great deal of gentleness in him.
“It takes a whole lot of strength to walk away.” More than most people would ever realize.
He wasn’t most people. And he understood her far more than Misty would ever know.
“Just because he might have told you that you were weak, don’t you ever believe him, understand? ”
Her lip trembled again, but her chin lifted.
Damn. As he stared at her and her son, it was like staring back at another time. Another place. Another freaking rundown motel in the middle of nowhere. He looked down, dropping his gaze behind her, almost expecting to see?—
No, no, it’s not my life. Not my past. I see Timothy.
“You are incredibly strong, Misty,” Emerson told her. “Gray is right. Never doubt that. The weak person is the one who hurt you.”
Damn straight. Gray dropped to his knees before Misty, putting him much closer to Timothy’s height.
His hands formed fists with his thumbs on the outside, and then he made an X, bringing those fists over his chest, with his right hand over the left.
Then he swung his hands out. He pointed at the kid.
Safe. Gray made the motions again. Safe. You. You are safe.
Misty inhaled sharply. “You…you know sign language?”
Yeah, he did. Gray pointed at the kid. You. Gray’s hands moved toward his shoulders, claw shaped. As his hands pulled away from his shoulders, they curled into fists. Brave. He did the sign one more time. You are brave.
Timothy smiled at him.
“H-he’s been working on his signs,” Misty said. “I had him in a preschool for kids who are deaf, and he’s so smart, and he’s been learning so fast. He’s so, so smart. Timothy just needs a fair chance in life, you know? I was leaving Trevor because of him. Because Timothy deserved more. Because?—”
“You both deserve more,” Gray told her flatly. He pointed at Timothy. You. Gray’s hand raised. His fingers were slightly parted. His middle finger moved toward his head. He touched his temple. Flicked the hand outward. Smart.
You are smart.
Timothy let go of his mom and tossed his little body at Gray. At first, Gray stiffened, then he slowly patted the little boy’s shoulders. Oh, hell, yes, I’m gonna make sure that you and your mom have that fair chance. They would never be cowering in fear again. Done.
The boy slowly let him go. He smiled at Gray. Went back to his mom.
“Thank you,” Misty whispered.
He slowly rose to his feet. Gray’s breath eased out. “You did the right thing tonight.”
“You have my card, Misty,” Emerson said. “You contact me anytime.”
“I’m…I’m gonna go home to my mom in Georgia. I already called her. The cops, um, they said I have to fill out some paperwork. Then Timothy and I can go.” Her feet shuffled nervously. “Could you, um, would you—one of you—um, go with us? To the station, I mean? I’m just—I’m scared.”
“Yes,” Gray answered. He’d go. He’d take steps to make sure she had every resource she needed in Georgia, too.
“Yes,” Emerson replied at the same time.
His gaze collided with Emerson’s.
“We’ll be with you,” Emerson promised Misty. “Every step of the way.”
He could not look away from Emerson. And he should. He absolutely should. Because Gray was very afraid at that moment…
Emerson is seeing too much of me. Seeing into him. And discovering the secrets that he tried too hard to hide.
The sun was starting to rise when they got back to the motel room. Weariness pulled at Emerson. All she wanted to do was fall into a puddle. A puddle that—hopefully—landed in her bed.
Gray had made arrangements for Misty and her son Timothy to be transported to Misty’s mother’s home. He’d also made a few, secretive phone calls. Calls that her instincts said were all geared around Misty and her protection.
As soon as he parked their rental at the motel, a weary sigh slid from her. “You’re really a good guy, aren’t you, Gray?” Gray. The shortened version of his name slid easily from her now.
Because I almost had sex with the man.
Something that they would have to discuss soon.
Gray exited the vehicle. She started to push open her door, but he beat her. Opening it for her. With his face expressionless, he told her, “I’m good to some people.”
Yes, he’d certainly been good to Misty and to Timothy that night. She rose from the vehicle. Her heels tapped on the cement as she edged closer to him.
He slammed the car door. “But to most people, I’m a real nightmare.”