Chapter 19
“You see the younger guys?” Grover asked no one in particular the next morning as they stood at their positions near the front gate.
There were the usual few dozen men standing with their signs and heckling those arriving and leaving the post, but Cory—and the younger men who were always at his side—weren’t anywhere to be seen.
“No clue,” Doc said.
“Something isn’t right,” Grover muttered.
“You feel it too?” Brain asked.
Grover nodded. The men who were there that morning were merely going through the motions. They weren’t as energetic as the younger group, nowhere near as vocal as they were when Cory was with them.
“I’m gonna enjoy the break from their blabbering,” Lucky said with a disgusted snort. “Maybe if we’re lucky, they’re thinking about moving on.”
“We can only hope,” Brain agreed.
The morning went by fairly smoothly, and Grover was glad when just before lunchtime, they were relieved by Trigger, Lefty, and Oz.
“Any trouble?” Trigger asked.
“Nope. The protestors who showed up this morning were pretty subdued,” Lucky said.
“Thank God,” Lefty replied. “I’m sick to death of this shit.”
“Same,” Doc agreed.
“Grover?” Trigger asked.
“Yeah?”
“Try to relax this afternoon. You’ve seemed really tense the last few days.”
Grover nodded. “I will.”
“And tell Sierra hi for us. Gillian was really thankful she could help her out today, especially since one of her assistants is home sick.”
“I will,” Grover promised, before heading for Doc’s Durango. He’d driven them all up to the front gate, and he’d take them back to the office before they went their separate ways.
Within ten minutes, Grover was headed back toward the gate in his own vehicle. He waved at Trigger and the others as he passed, glaring at the men who were still holding their signs and harassing people.
He drove straight to the grocery store and headed inside to get everything he needed to make a decadent steak and lobster dinner for Sierra.
He still wanted to get them that pizza he talked about while they were in Afghanistan, but for tonight, he wanted to spoil her with surf and turf.
After getting the ingredients for a fresh salad, he headed toward the back of the store.
There was a fairly long line at the butcher’s section, and Grover waited impatiently for his turn.
He went by the ice cream freezers on his way to the check-out and grabbed some of the double dark chocolate caramel ice cream bars Sierra liked so much.
Thinking about the upcoming evening made the tension in Grover ease a bit. He was looking forward to some quiet time with Sierra and trying to put some of the tension of the last week behind him.
He felt his phone vibrate briefly on his hip but ignored it since he was driving. If it was an emergency, whoever was texting him would’ve actually called instead.
It was a warm day, like usual, but Grover knew storms were in the forecast for later.
He’d never been afraid of tornados, but now that Sierra was living with him, he decided he needed to look into getting an emergency shelter put in.
He had plenty of room on his property to bury a storm shelter. Better safe than sorry.
He was lost in his thoughts about the possibility of tornados, and where he and Sierra would go in case one blew through, as he drove down his long driveway. The sight of his house and barn went a long way toward making him feel even more relaxed.
Until Sierra had practically moved in, he’d considered the place his refuge, but still just a house. She’d made it something even more special. A home.
Grover pushed the button to open the garage door and pulled inside. Glancing down, he reached for his phone to read the text that he’d received while driving.
Before he could unlock his phone, his door was wrenched open and something hard was pressed against the side of his head.
“Don’t move, soldier boy, or I’ll put this bullet through your skull.”
Grover froze.
Fuck.
He saw several of the young men he recognized from the militia swarm around the front of his car. Each and every one of them was armed to the teeth, holding semiautomatic weapons and with rifles slung over their shoulders.
Grover now understood why they hadn’t been protesting outside the gates of the post that morning. They were here, waiting to ambush him.
Carefully, so as not to alarm Cory, whose voice he recognized, Grover raised his arms, showing the militia leader that he was unarmed.
“Step out. Slowly,” Cory growled.
Itching to take the asshole out, Grover complied. He had no doubt he could take Cory down, but with the amount of firepower the others had, they’d kill him before he could deal with them. If his team was here, things would be different—but he was on his own.
Until he found out what the hell the group wanted, his best bet was to keep who he was, and how deadly he could be, on the down low.
Grover had the fleeting thought of how glad he was that Sierra wasn’t with him. Knowing she was in danger would’ve pushed him to do something rash. For now, he’d stay calm and mentally take notes.
They’d mess up, and when they did, they’d regret fucking with him.
Sierra’s face hurt from smiling so much. She had no idea how Gillian did this job day in and day out. She was a bundle of positive energy and simply being around her was exhausting for Sierra.
There was no doubt that Gillian was good at what she did.
Everyone, from the happy couple celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary to the youngest great-great-grandchild, seemed to have the best time at the party.
Gillian kept everything running smoothly and even when there were hiccups, she handled them so easily, no one even knew something had gone wrong.
While Sierra loved hanging out with her and helping, she already knew this wasn’t something she wanted to do full-time. Or even part-time. Being around so many people wasn’t as easy as it once was for her, though Sierra refused to feel bad or guilty about that.
So as much as she’d enjoyed the day, Sierra was more than ready to get home.
Home.
Damn, when had she begun to think of Grover’s house as home?
She really should at least try to pretend she was using the apartment Ember had so graciously let her have, but the thought of going there without Grover wasn’t appealing in the least. So she’d basically…what…moved in with Grover?
Yup, that’s exactly what she’d done.
But he didn’t seem to mind.
Sierra thought back to the night before. She’d been on the verge of sleep when she felt him shift next to her. He’d kissed her on the forehead and told her that he loved her. Without thought, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she remembered telling him she loved him back.
“What’s that smile for?” Gillian asked.
“Nothing. Okay, that’s a lie. I was thinking about Grover,” Sierra admitted.
“You guys are perfect together. You just fit,” Gillian said. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s almost as if you’ve known each other for years and years. You’re so comfortable together.”
“I feel like I’ve known him forever,” Sierra agreed.
“Well, I think it’s awesome.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but her phone rang. Giving Sierra a sheepish grin, Gillian reached for her cell. It had been ringing off the hook all day as she communicated with various people about the party.
“Hello? Oh, hi, Trigger. Yeah, she is…we’re done for the day and heading to our cars right— Why? Um…why? What’s wrong? You know I’m gonna have to tell her more than that.”
Sierra tensed. She knew without having to get clarification that Gillian was talking about her. And she didn’t like her friend’s tone. She was worried…in a way that she hadn’t been all day when putting out fires and talking to vendors about the anniversary party.
“Is he talking about me? What’s wrong?” Sierra asked, alarmed at the change in Gillian’s expression as she listened to whatever Trigger was saying.
Gillian shook her head—and suddenly Sierra was swamped with the feeling of being left out.
When she’d been a captive, every decision had been made for her.
She hated never knowing what was going on, what might happen to her from one moment to the next.
And right now, it was more than obvious Gillian’s husband was saying something Sierra needed to hear.
Without thought, she reached out and took Gillian’s phone out of her hand.
Never in a million years would she have done something so rude prior to her kidnapping, but she was less concerned with niceties now and more worried about getting as much information as possible about anything that might affect her.
“Hello?”
“Sierra?”
“Yeah. What’s going on? What was Gillian supposed to tell me?”
Gillian’s husband sighed. “I need you to go with Gillian back to our place.”
“Why?”
“There’s been an incident.”
“What does that mean? Stop beating around the bush, Trigger, and tell me what’s going on. Now.”
“Okay, but we’ve got this under control.”
That didn’t calm Sierra, not in the least. She held on to her patience by the skin of her teeth as she waited for Trigger to continue.
“Put it on speaker,” Gillian insisted.
Sierra did, and she and Gillian both hovered over the phone as Trigger began to speak.
“You know the Strong Foot Militia has been a pain in our asses lately. Today, they took things to a new level. Some of the more vocal members were missing from the protests this morning, which we thought was odd. Grover, especially, seemed bothered by it.”
Sierra wanted to scream at Trigger to hurry up and say what the hell was wrong already, but she bit her tongue.
“They were waiting for Grover when he got home,” Trigger said solemnly. “Around a dozen members of the group are now holed up inside his house, with Grover as a hostage. But we’re on this, Sierra. We’re gonna get him out.”
Everything inside Sierra froze as numbing shock and pure terror swept over her.