Chapter 11
Grace
hand covered my mouth, cutting off my call for Brynne and McKenna. My heart raced as whoever grabbed me yanked me into the room I’d been peering out of and slammed my back into the wall.
I forced my eyes to stay open despite the bite of pain in my shoulders. In doing so, I stared straight into a set of familiar green and hazel eyes.
Henley moved his gun-holding hand from where he’d protected my head from the impact, then peeled off his mask and let it fall to the floor. Gripping his gun, he held his pointer finger to his lips in a shushing motion.
My nostrils flared as I breathed heavily, the erratic beat of my heart making it difficult to calm down. His warm palm kept me from sucking in as much air as I would've liked, and it only resulted in pissing me off.
If this was some prank to teach me a lesson, I’d neuter him without hesitation.
His eyes flicked to my nose, like he was warning me that he’d cover it if I didn’t get myself under control. I hadn’t realized how loud my breathing was until now.
I forced my breathing to slow, focusing on the gun blocking part of his face. The sight of his weapon reminded me that I’d left my knife in a locker in the other room after we’d changed into robes.
Now my heart stopped altogether.
His hand still pressed to my mouth prevented me from looking down to see if my robe had fallen open when he grabbed me. If it had, he wasn’t looking.
His eyes seemed to zone out as he focused on listening for something. Was something happening? What was he so scared of? And why the fuck was he here? As far as I was aware, Brynne and McKenna hadn’t told their boyfriends where they’d be today.
Then that reminded me…
I widened my eyes, trying to get his attention. He seemed lost to his senses, so I did the only logical thing.
I bit his hand.
His attention snapped to me, jaw tight.
I grabbed his wrist and yanked, exposing my lips so I could mouth their names. If something really was wrong, I wouldn’t leave my friends in danger.
He shook his head, but I wasn’t sure if that meant he didn’t know where they were, or he didn’t want me to worry about them.
I mouthed, “Help them.”
A muscle in his cheek ticked. I swear to God, if he put me before them…
He must’ve sensed my growing concern, because he finally put space between us and reached over to close the door—not so it would click, but enough for us to be able to whisper.
“Where were they?” he asked, voice so quiet I could barely hear him despite his chest pressing against mine once again.
“The sauna,” I whispered. “The door might lock, I don’t know.” Panic for my friends started to set in, my gaze darting to the door. “What’s happening?”
“A man is in here.”
My head swivelled, eyes locking onto his. “What man?”
He studied me, but I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for. “You tell me.”
My jaw fell. “You think I have something to do with this?”
He shook his head, irritated. “No. But whoever it is looks like they aren’t here for a fucking facial.”
I dropped my gaze to his chest, thinking through the possibilities before forcing my mind to stop. “We need to get to them.”
I looked up to find a pained expression on his face. Was he conflicted about who to save right now? Because last I heard, he wanted me dead at the end of this. Whoever was in here could speed things up for him.
He seemed to be fighting some sort of inner battle. His jaw was clenched so hard, I was surprised he hadn’t cracked a tooth.
“Lure him away from them,” he finally said.
It was a struggle to keep my expression neutral. I’d do anything for the two of them, including risk my own life. But for some reason, I hadn’t expected him to be so casual about sending me out to a certain death.
He was confusing the fuck out of me right now.
“Fine.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. It was probably him silently hoping that the guy had good aim.
He seemed to hesitate, the space between us growing heated. But then he finally stepped away. The rush of cold air had unease coursing through me. I shoved the feeling away, not giving myself a chance for second thoughts.
With quiet steps, I moved toward the door. I glanced down, remembering my earlier concerns about my robe. I might’ve flashed Henley, but I wouldn’t let the prick about to hurt—or murder—me get a look.
Thankfully, my robe was still shut. To keep it that way, I firmly tugged the knot to be sure it was tight.
Slowly, I swung open the door while giving myself some much-needed mental reassurance.
Your plants won’t die. Someone with the right mind will remember they need to be watered and fertilized, and have their leaves wiped every so often.
I placed one flip-flopped foot in front of the other, exposing myself in the hall.
No one was around, but the quiet was unsettling, knowing that inside one of these rooms, a stranger was searching for me.
“Hello?” My voice was shaky and uncertain. I hated the sound of it.
My heart beat in my ears, making it hard to hear. I was used to the rush of adrenaline with each target I was assigned, but I always had the upper hand. Now, I didn’t. I was unarmed, vulnerable, and—
A gunshot rang through the air, and heat ripped through my bicep. I fell to the floor, flames scorching my skin as I screamed.
Three, four, seven shots rang out, each making me curl deeper in on myself.
I'd been shot. I was dying. Surely I was. Pain didn’t feel like this unless death was inevitable.
I felt a smidge of pity for each person I’d killed, even knowing they had all been bad people. Fear like this was suffocating.
Hands clawed at my shoulders, but I fought back. “Don’t touch me! Sh-shoot me and get it over with!”
My voice echoed in my ears, down the hall and into the void. My pulse wracked through my whole arm.
Had the limb fallen off?
Am I being dramatic?
“Grace!”
My name shouted in that voice snapped me out of my panic for a brief moment. I knew that voice. More than I liked to admit.
I quit my fight, letting strong hands turn me onto my side. Henley’s eyes searched my face before moving down my body. While he did, my gaze fell to the floor.
There was blood.
A lot of blood.
“Henley.”
Fabric ripped.
Something lifted my arm, but it wasn’t me. I couldn’t move it.
“Henley.”
My blood was so dark.
He was kneeling in it.
His jeans would be stained forever.
Pressure wrapped my upper arm in a vice, causing me to cry out. “Henley.”
I think tears clouded my vision, but it could’ve been the blood loss bringing me to the brink of unconsciousness.
Large arms scooped me up, gracefully taking me away from the puddle of blood. But in the distant chasm of my mind, I thought I felt a trickle down the side of my arm.
I was too scared to look.
“You’re fine,” Henley reassured, finally deciding to fucking speak.
Took him long enough.
As he carried me down the hall, my head lolled against his shoulder. He turned a corner, and I swore I saw a body lying in a heap at the end of the hall.
“Was I shot?” I asked. I couldn’t feel my arm anymore.
“Grazed,” he answered.
“So I was shot.”
“Don’t think about it, Grace.”
I turned my head without thinking, looking down to where the fire had blazed before.
He kicked up his elbow, forcing my head back against his chest. “Don’t look.”
“Is it bad?”
He was quiet a moment, which was confirmation enough. “It’s deep, but I can stitch it—”
My eyes popped wide. “You’re going to stitch me? No, I need a hospital. Someone qualified—”
“I’ve stitched myself plenty of times—”
“You’re not a doctor!”
“Grace!” His booming voice had me snapping my mouth shut. “You’re going to be fine.” There was worry laced deep in his words, though. Enough to tell me he was concerned and…angry?
I didn’t want to think too far into it.
“Henley, the girls—”
“Austin and Booker are pulling up now.”
I heard tires screeching on pavement, and I blinked up at the sky. When had we gotten outside?
Doors slammed, followed by the pounding of boots. “Where are they?”
That was Booker. I didn’t want to look at them. I probably looked pathetic, bleeding in Henley’s arms.
“Inside. Grace said they were in the sauna last she knew,” Henley told them.
“She okay?” Austin asked, concern evident in his tone.
A door opened, and I found it was the passenger side of Henley’s truck as he gently placed me on the seat. “She will be.”
I forced my eyes to the dash, not wanting to look at him, either.
He buckled me in, eyes on me as he seemed to hesitate. Why, I wasn’t sure. Then he shut the door and silence enveloped me.
If this wound didn’t kill me, humiliation would.
I was weak.
Henley gave me his sweatshirt from the back seat to keep pressure on the wound while he drove like a bat out of hell.
“Stay,” Henley commanded after pulling up to my house and getting out.
The fucking audacity of this man…
I unbuckled, ready to disobey, but I hissed in a breath when I tried to lift my arm to open the door. In my attempt, I noticed he’d torn the robe to my shoulder, exposing my skin.
He was at my side in seconds. He didn’t check the wound before scooping me into his arms.
“My arm is useless, not my legs,” I grumbled, feeling like a pathetic wet cat as he carried me to the door.
Then I remembered. “I left my keys in the locker at the spa.”
He maneuvered me to free one of his hands and slide it in the pocket of his jeans. A familiar clink of metal sounded, and I looked down to find him holding my keys.
“How did you get those?” I asked incredulously.
“I searched your locker,” he answered easily, sliding the key in the lock like he’d done it a thousand times before.
My eyes widened. “How long were you there?”
He shoved his way inside, kicking the door shut behind us. “Long enough to know you were being careless.”
“Careless?” I hissed. “I was at a fucking spa! I wasn’t expecting someone to hunt me down in there.”
He found my bedroom, walking us through it and into the attached bathroom. Harder than necessary, he plopped my ass on the counter and flicked on the light.