Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Autumn
This is by far the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But it’s necessary. I need to be brave and lure Frank into the house. Act normal.
Mace turns on the television and nods toward the couch.
I hurry over and sit as he selects the rerun of a sitcom before handing me the remote. “The volume is muted. He’ll think you did that before you headed to the door.”
I nod. “I’ve got this. Promise.”
Galloway drops the blinds. “He’s here.” He rushes toward the pantry.
Mace gives me one more kiss and heads for the hallway. Ghost and Bryant are already outside.
Taking deep breaths, I try to control my nerves. It’s not possible, of course. I’m shaking badly, but I need to pull my shit together before I answer the door.
Frank is going to knock any second. I’ve already heard his car door close.
More deep breathing. This man killed my father. He’s volatile.
I jump when he raps his knuckles against the wood.
Even though I knew the noise was coming, I still flinch.
There wasn’t time for anyone to give me many instructions on how to manage this, so I’m winging it.
But I can do this. If not for me, for Addison.
She’s in the safe room of this house, hiding from this man who threatened her.
I know her entire story now. I’ve been with her all morning.
She didn’t simply file for divorce and walk away.
This asshole hit her. He slammed her against a wall, cut off her airway, and repeatedly struck her head so many times she had a concussion.
It wasn’t until he got drunk and passed out that she escaped. She’s been in hiding ever since.
Somehow, I manage to find the inner strength to move toward the door. I look through the peephole first and then peek out the window through the blinds. If he’s facing this direction, he’ll see me being rationally cautious. It fits with my story.
Finally, I pull the door open. “Frank? Oh my God. What are you doing here?” I lean outside, pretend to look around, as if making sure no one can see him, and then grab his forearm and yank him into the house, shutting the door in seconds.
“I was worried about you,” he lies before pulling me into his arms and hugging me tight against his chest. “I heard about your father. I’m so sorry.”
I hold my breath, not wanting to carry on this ridiculous farce, but I must. “Thank you for coming,” I murmur.
He finally releases me and leans back a few inches. “Whose house is this, Autumn? Why are you not at home? I’ve stopped by so many times, and you weren’t there.”
“Do you know the circumstances of my father’s death?” I tip my head to one side and frown slightly, praying I look appropriately confused.
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No. I only heard of his passing.”
This is also a lie. He’s never heard a word about my father’s death. No one has.
“I think someone murdered him,” I say softly.
Frank gasps. “What? Why would anyone want him dead?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but I was scared. I panicked and left the house. I was afraid if someone murdered him, they might come back for me, or maybe they were still in the house when I found him.”
I’m surprised by how sharp I’m being, thinking fast. We know Frank watched me arrive home, find my father, and leave. He has to wonder why I did that instead of calling the police.
His brow is furrowed. Good. Let him be confused. I have the upper hand here in more ways than he can imagine.
“Oh, honey, you must have been so scared.” He hugs me again.
It’s disgusting. I hate him touching me. I want to stab him with a knife over and over until he bleeds to death. I’ve never felt this furious in my life, but I need to control my anger and play along. “So very scared,” I agree, hoping he’s buying my acting skills.
“What did the police say?”
Fucking prick. He knows I didn’t call the police.
I lower my gaze as if I’m embarrassed. “I didn’t call them.”
“Why not, honey?”
Don’t fucking call me honey.
“I don’t know. I panicked. I was afraid. I’m still scared.”
The thing is, me not calling the police really isn’t an option. It’s a hole in my convoluted story. He should realize this. After all, who the fuck does he think came and got the body without the police? There would have been suspicions of foul play.
“Where is your father’s body now?” he asks.
I nearly choke, afraid he’s seeing through me. “I called the coroner. They picked him up. He’s at the morgue.”
He stares at me, frowning deeply.
My heart races, fearing he will question the absurdity of that.
He glances around. “Whose house is this?”
“It’s a vacation rental.” I don’t ask the obvious question that should be on the tip of my tongue, and would be if I weren’t playing him harder than he’s playing me. How the fuck did you find me, asshole? Does he think I’m stupid? Apparently so.
It’s time to extricate myself and let Mace take over. I pull free of him. “Do you want coffee?”
He doesn’t give me any space. He follows me to the counter. “No.”
I turn around. “Oh, okay.” I shiver and rub my arms. “I’m going to grab a sweater. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as I take a step in the direction of the hallway, Frank grabs my arm. “It’s warm in here, Autumn. You’re acting strange.”
I’m acting strange? I’m not the one who killed a man out of misplaced revenge. I glare at him. “Frank, my father died, and I’m scared. How do you want me to act? I’m cold.” I tug on my wrist to free myself from his grip.
He wraps his fingers tighter around my forearm. “I don’t like you staying here. It’s not safe. How about I take you home? I’ll stay with you. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Shit. I need to get out of this room. I’m starting to sweat. How is he going to believe I’m cold if perspiration drips off my brow?
I shake my head, my eyes widening. “I can’t go back there, Frank. What if the killer is waiting for me?”
He rolls his eyes, as if I’m dense. “Honey, I seriously doubt someone actually killed your father. I bet he had a heart attack or a stroke.”
I force my body to relax, hoping it will cause him to release me. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I overreacted.” I chew on my bottom lip, pretending to contemplate the idea.
He gives me a crooked smile. “Come. I promise nothing will happen to you as long as you’re with me.” He pulls on my arm again. “Let’s just go. We can come back for your things later.”
What’s his fucking hurry? My pulse is racing. Why won’t he release me?
“Frank, I can’t just leave. I at least need my medicines and toiletries.” I think that’s a good answer.
He sighs heavily and suddenly smiles. “Of course. I’ll help you pack.” Still holding my arm, he turns toward the hallway. As soon as he takes one step in that direction, Mace emerges in our path. Holding a gun.
“Let go of her, asshole,” he growls.
Frank hesitates for a moment, probably from shock, and then he pulls me in front of him, wraps an arm around me, and takes a few steps backward. This is not how any of us pictured this going down. I was supposed to leave the room, so Mace and his team could confront Frank without me.
When it became clear Frank wasn’t going to release me or let me leave his side, Mace had no choice but to alter the plan.
What I wasn’t expecting is for Frank to be armed, too, and all the blood drains from my face as he presses the cold metal of a pistol against my temple.
“Let her go, Samson,” Mace orders.
Frank lets out a sardonic chuckle that makes my skin crawl. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter, Samson. Unless you want your brain matter splattered on the wall behind you, you need to release Autumn.”
“You think you can outshoot me, fucker? Not a chance. I served two tours during wartime. I’ve killed more men than you can imagine. Back the fuck off. Autumn is mine.”
Mace smirks as he approaches, still holding his gun aimed at Frank’s head. If he shoots, there’s a good chance I’ll die. Frank would likely jerk me into the line of fire to save himself. Mace knows this. He would never take the shot unless he was certain I wouldn’t be injured.
That doesn’t mean Mace isn’t going to fire his weapon. I suspect he’s efficient enough with a gun to hit Frank in the skull two inches from my head. But I’d rather not find out.
I’m scared out of my mind, but I also trust Mace. I need to have faith he’s going to get me out of this mess.
Frank is gripping me too tightly around my chest. It’s hard to breathe. I grab at his forearm, trying to loosen his hold. He hoists me up higher, causing my feet to lift off the floor until I can barely touch it with my toes.
My panic is growing.
“You don’t want to do this, Samson,” Mace warns.
“You’re wrong. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I’m taking Autumn.”
Suddenly, Frank is no longer holding me. In fact, he’s not touching me at all. He drops to the floor.
I yelp as I jump clear of his body, finding Galloway on the other side of Frank’s limp body. “How…?”
Mace’s arm is around me in an instant. He hauls me back. “Galloway headbutted him, Baby. Go join Addison in the safe room. Don’t open the door until one of us comes to get you.”
I don’t argue with Mace. I turn and run into the hall. The last thing I want to see is whatever is going to happen in this kitchen.