Maisie
. . .
THIRTY-EIGHT
Three months have come and gone, and I have finally made up my mind.
I want to stay, at least for a little longer, until I figure out my life, career and love life included.
It didn’t feel right going back to New York right now, not while enjoying playing house with Grayson.
I could never forgive myself if I left and he got hurt—or worse.
Even though I’m sure of my decision, I’m still a nervous ball of anxiety thinking about pushing send. I know I can live wherever I want, but being so close to the agency got me to where I am now. It feels weird to abandon it after everything I did to get here.
My pointer finger hovers right above my mouse, the cursor already poised on the send button.
Just as I’m about to send it off into the digital world, a crash comes from the kitchen.
I’m about to call out Grayson's name when the security alarm starts blaring.
The blood drains from my face at the unfamiliar voices.
“Where is she?” a husky man whispers.
“Shut up,” another hisses, and then a thump follows. “Split up and stay quiet, idiot.”
From the tap of their shoes, it sounds like there’s only two of them.
My heart hammers against my chest, but I don’t have time to panic.
It has to be the man who was following me.
The mafia. They are here to collect me, or maybe kill me, just as Grayson warned me about.
He told me time and time again that getting tangled up in him was bad news.
Of course the cowardly assholes would come when they knew I was home alone. Grayson said he had to run an ‘errand’ and would be back later tonight. Code for he was summoned for a fight. He’s going to flip out over this, and I feel sorry for whoever gets in his way.
I know Grayson has a gun stashed away. He even said he wanted to take me shooting after we had the spook with the stalker.
He wanted me to be able to protect myself.
We hadn’t gotten that far, though, so I’m like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time when it comes to guns.
I’m shit out of luck, but I do have one thing going for me.
I’m a female full of rage and determination, and we can do just about anything we put our minds to under the right circumstances.
I quietly shuffle around Grayson’s bedroom, looking in the closet and under the bed for a gun.
I’m not sure what I would do with it if I do find one, but it makes me feel better when I do.
If anything, I can swing it at their faces, and maybe that will be enough to have them running for the hills. Men are babies, after all.
Evie wakes from her slumber and saunters over to me. I snatch her up and cradle her to my chest, backing my way into the closet. I know it’s the most cliché place to hide, but I have no other options. I wasn’t going to walk out in the open.
I draw the door shut, leaving it just cracked enough to peek out.
I slip out my phone, shooting a text off to Grayson.
He’s told me the mafia have most of the local police on their payroll, so a call to them is worth horse shit.
I debate shooting a text to Chesney, but I know he’s not home, and Grayson has been so adamant about keeping family out of this.
When I don’t receive a text back like normal, I dial Grayson’s number.
It only rings twice before going straight to voicemail.
I leave the voicemail recording open and slip it back into my pocket.
Fuck. This is bad, bad.
The bedroom door creaks open, and I silently curse. Maybe they won’t check in here. Happy thoughts. Mystery man takes one step into the room and immediately looks at the closet. Yeah, I am royally fucked in the ass.
“Meow!”
Motherfucker. I slap a hand over Evie's mouth, but the damage is done. We have been outed by one adorable fluffball. Feet stomp our way, and I shove Evie into a box so they won’t find her. With a shaky hand, I position the handgun at the door just as it flies open.
“Take another step, and I’ll blow your head off,” I warn, my voice firm.
The man just chuckles like he pities me. “Found the prize,” Mystery Man One yells. The second man barrels down the hall and into the room. “Do I get to have my way with her first since I found her?” he jokes, grabbing his dick through his pants.
I’m going to be sick. My voice is still even when I repeat myself. “I mean it. Stay back, or I’ll shoot.”
“You hear that, Rick? Better back up before she splatters the walls with our brains,” he teases. When he smiles, his rotten yellow teeth greet me.
“I mean it,” I threaten, my hand shaking.
“Cute,” he coos. “Now put the gun down before you hurt yourself. That’s our job.
” He steps towards me, reaching for the gun, but I jerk, slamming him across the face with it.
Buddy is dumber than a doornail for underestimating me.
He swipes away the blood, gritting his teeth.
“Fucking bitch! Just for that, I’m going to make it hurt while you’re bleeding and screaming under me.
Then, I’m gonna pass you over to my partner here to do whatever he wants before we sell you to the highest bidder. ”
“I’m an ass guy, and I can’t wait to fill you up, buttercup,” his partner chimes in, licking his chapped lips.
“Fuck you,” I seethe, slamming my finger on the trigger. Nothing happens—the trigger doesn’t budge. I jerk my hand instead, aiming for his groin. He’s prepared this time, knocking the gun from my hand easily. It goes flying across the room, and Dumber stops it under the heel of his boot.
Tut, tut. “That’s going to cost you, slut,” he scolds, drawing the back of his hand down my cheek. I shove my elbow into his gut, slamming the closet door shut so Evie is safe, and dip under his arm. I bolt for the door and almost make it before my hair is grabbed, and I’m thrown to the floor.
The wind is knocked from my lungs, but I scramble to my feet, ready to put up a fight.
“Grayson will hunt you both down and skin you alive. Even if you survive me, you won’t survive him.
” I smile, knowing I may be fucked, but there’s enough fire in me to keep fighting.
I’m stalling, trying to come up with a plan.
I just need to push them enough so they get sloppy.
“He can try, and his ass will end up six feet under, next to yours after you’ve served your duties at the whore house. You will make the perfect cum dumpster.”
I slowly step away from him, my eye catching on something shiny on the bedside table. “Do I know you?” I ask, confusion on my face.
“In your wet dreams, maybe,” he barks out, stepping closer.
“No, I could have sworn I’ve seen you before.” I take another step back before letting out a gasp. “You guys were in the movie “Dumb and Dumber”, that’s it,” I say with a smile. That does it. His face turns beet red, and he’s charging me.
“Fucking bitch. I’m going to have you screaming my name until it’s the only word you know before passing you off to Johnny so he can do the same. I’ll watch him turn your ass black and blue. Can you say Rick, sweetie?”
He lunges for me just as I swipe the metal letter opener off the bedside table and slam it into his neck. I don’t wait before I’m running past his distracted partner, and out the front door.
Instinctively I look for the truck, but, of course, Grayson has it.
I turn for the forest instead, my bare feet digging into the dirt and rocks.
I don’t let any of it stop me. I don’t look back, don’t even stop to catch my breath.
I aim for Chesney's house, knowing it's the closest to Grayson’s and a good place to hide.
A bullet whizzes by my head, lodging into the tree next to me.
I let out a yelp of terror, and my foot catches on a thick root, taking me to the ground.
“You can’t escape us, bitch. You owe blood for blood!”
I scramble to my feet, running in the opposite direction of Rick’s voice. It goes quiet for a minute, and, I think, just maybe, I’ll get out of this. I look over my shoulder, making sure no one is following me as I approach Ches’.
Thump. I crash into a solid wall. When I orient myself again, I find a smug Johnny smirking down at me. “Found you, buttercup,” he rasps.
I don’t even have a fair chance to put up a fight. Something sharp stabs into the side of my neck, a burning sensation following. My senses instantly go fuzzy, and I sway on my feet.
No, this can’t be happening. Not like this.
“Grayson,” I call, but it’s weak. “Saddle,” I whimper. “S-saddle…”
“Night, night, bitch.”
Everything goes black.
Research Notes: love stories don’t always have happily ever afters.