Chapter 16
Grace
My Doc Marten tapped an unsteady beat on the sidewalk. I tried not to look like a paranoid maniac as my head turned every which way, awaiting…someone.
I had no idea who would be showing, and that made this all the more nerve-racking. What if they saw right through my text for help? What if they didn’t give a shit that I might die, and they didn’t come?
One thing I knew for certain was it wouldn’t be my boss showing up to lend a hand. It’d be some errand boy—or brute—which was exactly what Henley wanted.
I, on the other hand, knew how intimidating these men could be. My last interaction had a plethora of what-ifs racing through my mind. They hated questions, and hated feeling slighted.
All of which would be happening today.
The growl of a loud exhaust floated down the vacant road. Seconds later, a blacked-out Dodge Charger appeared out of the dense fog. My heart rate kicked up a notch, and I ran my fingers against my clammy palm, unable to stand still.
I’d never asked them for help. Never even texted unless it was for confirmation of a kill.
This was out of the norm for me, which made me half expect the car to not stop at all, but rather slow and roll down a window and plant two bullets in my chest.
Invest in a bulletproof vest when this is over, I mentally noted.
To my relief, the car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The exhaust purred as it idled, and the window rolled down.
Here we go. I’m a dead girl.
“Boss said you have a problem,” a man’s voice said, a bit nasally sounding.
I blinked, wondering how the fuck this actually worked.
“He’s inside one of the storage units. I tracked him back here, planning to shoot him in the back of the head when he wasn’t looking, but he must’ve seen me.
He attacked me, but I got away after taking the key and locking him in his unit. If I open it, he’ll kill me.”
The man stared at me, hand still on the wheel like he was debating simply driving away. “Shoot through the door.”
What a great plan that I totally didn’t think of. “I ran out of ammo.”
His eyes dipped down my body, like he might be able to sense if I had another magazine on me. His gaze turned scrutinizing, but a sliver of malicious intent slid past that. Was he checking me out?
“You’re not good in hand-to-hand combat,” he surmised, more a statement than a question.
Was he checking me out and sizing me up?
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, layering on the helpless girl act. “N-not really.”
His tongue ran over his upper teeth in thought before he killed the engine and got out. He was easily taller than me, but not much more than Henley. Thankfully, height wouldn’t be an issue. Henley had the element of surprise on his hands. By contrast, I did not.
He stepped a little too close, but I held my ground. I wouldn’t let him see that he intimidated me. I only needed to get him to the unit Henley was hiding in, then he’d take over. Easy.
“Lead the way,” the man commanded. His brunette hair was shorter on the sides, longer on the top, and matched his dark brown eyes. He had a deep scar over the left side of his jaw, leading halfway down his neck. I didn’t want to see what happened to the guy who had caused a wound like that.
I turned, heading into the building. Heavy boot steps followed my lighter ones, his becoming louder the deeper we ventured.
“It’s taken you this long to end up following your target into a storage facility?” the man asked.
“I’ve had a few missed opportunities.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Oh, yeah? What have those been?”
My brain was so riddled with the situation at hand that I hesitated. Apparently a bit too long for this man’s liking, because one second I was facing forward, and the next, my head was being slammed into something hard while my back was shoved up against a wall.
My mind went fuzzy, slowing my reaction time. He pressed his forearm to my throat, inching me up on my tiptoes.
“What are you planning, little bitch? No one asks for help. That’s the goddamn point of being a killer for hire,” he gritted out.
My vision slowly came back into focus, alarm at the pressure on my windpipe snapping me back to reality. “You came, didn’t you?”
He pressed harder, and I choked. “To find out what the fuck you’re up to. Boss is getting impatient, Gracie. Or do you need me to send another message?”
My skull stung as I arched into the wall harder, hoping it’d give me a bit of relief on my throat. “It’s. Grace.”
Rage flashed in his eyes, but that was his mistake: keeping all his attention on me. One moment, he was crushing my throat. The next, he was a heap on the ground.
I bent at the waist, sucking in air between choked coughs. Two hands cupped my face, and though I knew who it was, I flinched.
“You were right,” Henley said, eyes searching me for injury.
“Told you.” My voice was hoarse, but I was recouping quickly.
I touched the back of my head, and my fingers came away red. Henley’s gaze shot to them, pure rage overtaking his features as his hands slipped from my face.
“He hurt you.”
“Isn’t that a job requirement at this point?” I tried to joke, but it fell flat.
Henley was shaking with barely contained wrath. I’d never seen him so angry before. Not even when he’d found out I was the one trying to kill him.
Did my life matter more to him than his own?
I shook my head, wincing at the throb of pain. No. It didn’t. He was probably more angry that he now had to keep a close eye on me while he got the answers he needed out of the man he’d knocked out.
“Get to the unit and sit down,” he instructed, moving toward the passed-out man on the ground.
“You need my help—”
“I said go, Grace,” Henley snapped, sending me a stern look over his shoulder as he grabbed the man by his shoulders.
Despite my newest hobby of disobeying him, I listened.
Henley’s fist swung, knuckles cracking against a rock-hard jaw. The man startled awake, confusion written all over his face.
He tried to stand, but it was useless. Henley had tied him to a chair in the middle of the unit, much like he’d done to me not long ago.
The man struggled against the binds, face reddening with each tug. “What the fuck is this?” His eyes landed on me across the room, sitting in my own chair—unbound. He glared at me, rage shining in his hazy gaze. “You fucking bitch—”
Henley stepped to the side, blocking his view of me. I looked down at my lap, wishing like hell Henley had a bed in here. My head hurt, and sitting in this uncomfortable metal chair wasn’t my idea of fun at the moment.
“Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.” Henley’s voice was a command no one could ignore. There was a lethal edge to it, promising the man’s death if he chose to disobey.
Using his brains, the man peered up at Henley. “What’s the plan here? Beat me for answers?”
“Sounds about right.” Henley swung again, this time right in the man’s eye. “That’s for touching her.”
My head snapped up at the same time the man’s curse words flung about the unit. This wasn’t supposed to be about me. It was to get information on who wanted Henley dead.
Despite that, I, too, wanted to see the man begging for mercy. I could sit here like a wet kitten, or I could revel in the small bit of revenge Henley seemed to be getting on my behalf.
Or maybe it was all for him.
Henley aimed low, punching him right in the gut. The man tried to bend in half to cater to the pain, but the ropes restricted his movements.
Satisfaction coursed through me at the sight of his suffering.
Henley’s fist was red, but he didn’t seem to notice. “That’s for calling her anything but her name.”
The man spit blood onto his lap. “Get to the fucking point.”
I drew my feet up onto the seat, knees pressed to my chest as I wrapped my arms around them, watching.
“Who hired your team to kill me?”
The man laughed, more blood mixed with saliva dripping from his mouth. “You think I’m gonna tell you that?”
Henley didn’t hesitate. His fist made contact with his other eye. The man’s head snapped to the side, his breathing more ragged now.
Henley pulled his gun out of the waistband of his jeans and squatted before him. “Who hired your team to kill me?”
“Go to hell.”
“Cover your ears, Grace.” Henley didn’t have to look in my direction for me to know his intent.
My palms covered my ears a split second before Henley shot the man in the foot. He cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks to mix with the blood leaking from his lips.
“Fuck,” the man blubbered. Henley aimed at the other foot. “Fuck! I don’t know his name, okay? We don’t know names, I swear.”
Henley’s head tilted to the side. “I don’t believe you.” His finger pressed a little more on the trigger, spurring the man to speak.
“Okay! Okay. All I know is you have a-a watch of his family’s.” The man cried harder. Pathetic. “That’s all I know, I swear.”
Any normal person who hadn’t been studying Henley’s movements for the past week might have missed it, but I didn’t. His body went a fraction more rigid than before, his limbs seeming to freeze. The small act alone told me that piece of information had given away exactly who wanted him dead.
Henley stood, a perfect picture of composed rage. He lifted the gun, the man’s eyes tracking the movement. Then he pulled the trigger, and blood spurted everywhere.
“That’s for trying to choke her.”
He had shot him right in the throat.
Henley should have scared me at that moment. He should have sent me running the opposite way and leaving him to get the revenge he wanted, especially with his promise of killing me once this was done.
He knew who wanted him dead. That was my sole purpose of staying alive.
Slowly, he turned to face me, and I knew with certainty that my time had come.
He was done playing.