Kieran dropped her father to the wooden floorboards with a heavy thud. His hands and feet were bound with rope. A myriad of purple and blue bruises covered his face and arms.
Her father groaned softly from the floor, rolling onto his back.
Tears filled Grace’s eyes, threatening to overflow.
This was her fault.
Turning her attention back to Kieran, she chose anger over the million other emotions stirring inside her. “Leave him alone! It’s me you want!”
“You’re right. It is you I want.” He marched up to her again, this time grabbing a handful of her hair and tugging it back. Pain seared the back of her skull, but she didn’t make a sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I’ve wanted you for almost nine fucking years! But I haven’t had you, have I? I’ve had to settle for shitty substitutes. Because of him. Because he hid you from me!”
She tried to shake her head, but his hold was too firm. “No. Because of me. I made him do it.”
Kieran lowered his face to her neck. The sound was loud as he inhaled her. “Don’t worry—you’ll pay it back to me.”
“Get away from her.” Her father’s voice was weak, but there was an undercurrent of strength.
When Kieran released her hair and walked toward her father, she immediately wanted his attention back on her. He kicked her father in the stomach, hard. Pain marred his brow, his groan loud.
“Stop!”
Kieran ignored her. Serving her father blow after blow. Grace screamed and begged. She promised the man anything she could think of, but he refused to so much as pause.
She yelled so much that her voice almost broke. Every blow to her father felt like a physical blow to her heart.
Finally, out of breath, Kieran turned toward her. “Are you ready to see what happens when people cross me?”
Her father wheezed on the floor. Kieran smirked when she remained silent, nodding toward the door.
“I’ll need my tools, but don’t worry, it won’t take long. Once these two are dead, you and I are getting the hell out of here.”
Tools?
When he disappeared, her gaze shifted to her father’s still form. The normally strong man now lay bleeding on the floor.
“Dad…” God, if only she’d gotten out of Cradle Mountain sooner, like she was supposed to. Kieran never would have found her. And he never would have taken her father.
When her dad’s eyes opened, she breathed a sigh of relief. A relief that he wasn’t unconscious. He started shuffling toward her, his movements surprisingly quick, considering the way Kieran had just been beating the hell out of him.
“Dad, what are you—”
“Shh.” He stopped behind her chair. She peered over her shoulder and caught him rising to his knees, turning so his back faced her own. Then his hands were brushing against her wrists as he began to work the ropes.
“I’m going to untie the rope around your wrists,” he whispered. “Then I need you to do the same for me.”
For a second, fear cramped her stomach. Fear of running out of time. Fear of Kieran catching them trying to escape. But she pushed it down. Kieran was already planning to do unspeakable things. They needed to try to get away.
Her dad was former military. He knew how to untie a rope quickly.
Suddenly, the material around her hands dropped, confirming her faith in her father.
She didn’t stop to absorb her shock, instead twisting to work on the knots around her father’s wrists. Her trembling fingers worked as fast as they could, but the knots were tight, her clammy fingers slipping more than they should have.
“When he comes back, put your hands back behind your back and hold the rope. I’ll do the same. He’ll think we’re still bound. When I attack, you need to untie your ankles and run.”
“No! I’m not leaving you and Logan.”
The rope around her father’s wrists finally gave way, and he leaned closer to her. “You are. Even if Logan were conscious, we don’t have the keys for his chains. I saw the phone on the counter. You need to take it, run, and call for help. He’ll expect you to go for the road, so go anywhere else. Run far enough that if he escapes from me, he won’t be able to find you. When you’re far enough, call for help. I’ll do everything I can to keep him away from Logan.”
Grace shook her head frantically, not wanting to put her father or Logan in such vulnerable positions. “No, Dad—”
“Gracie—please.” His hands went to her cheeks. Tears filled her eyes, but she angrily brushed them away. “Logan would want you to do this. I need you to do this. I need you to be okay. You’re all I have.”
Suddenly, memories of her father in the hospital that day came back to her. His skin had been deathly pale, and he’d looked like he’d aged twenty years in a week. Grace’s near death had almost destroyed him as much as it had her.
He had the training to beat Kieran in a fight. But he was older now. And he’d been working a desk job for years.
Everything in her told her not to leave. But the desperation in her father’s eyes was something she hadn’t seen since that day. Desperation for her to be okay. He needed her to live more than he needed to survive.
Slowly, she nodded. “Okay.” One word, barely a whisper, but it tore her heart in two.
Some of the storm inside her calmed as he breathed out a sigh of relief.
Footsteps from the front of the house sounded as her father quickly grabbed both pieces of rope, pressing one into her hands before taking the other with him as he shuffled back to where he’d been lying.
Scrunching the rope between her fingers, Grace took a series of calming breaths as Kieran walked inside. A new fear now settled in her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she was almost sure he’d hear it.
Kieran dropped a large bag to the floor, the thump echoing through the room. “Who’s ready to end this shit so we can get out of here? I know I am.”
Bending down, he pulled something silver from his bag. Pliers.
Her stomach turned.
Kieran smiled at her. “Why don’t we start with his teeth?”
God, she really was going to be sick.
He moved toward her father, his steps slow, like he was prolonging the moment. Grace could almost feel the excitement bouncing off him. He enjoyed inflicting pain. Enjoyed the power of having someone’s life in his hands. The fear they exuded seconds before he hurt them.
Crouching down, he grabbed her father’s chin.
Kieran never saw the fist coming.
Her father swung hard and fast, hitting the guy right in the face. The pliers flew out of his hand.
Shock transformed Kieran’s features seconds before her father slammed him to the floor. Kieran’s head bashed against the wood with a thud as her dad climbed on top of him.
“Now, Grace!”
Her dad’s voice pulled her out of her shock. Leaning over, she started working the rope around her ankles. Her fingers still trembled, making the process take much longer than it should have.
Grunts and growls sounded through the room. Fists connecting violently with skin.
After what felt like endless minutes, the knots came apart, and Grace stood. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she refused to let them.
She shot a quick look at Logan. Please, Logan. Wake up.
Then her gaze shifted back to her father. She didn’t want to leave them.
“No!” Kieran’s roar had her breath catching in her throat. He attempted to lunge for her, but her father wrapped his arms around Kieran’s waist, pulling him back.
Finally moving, Grace swiped the phone from the counter. For a split-second, she paused again, but when the grunts grew louder, all Grace could think of were the words from her father.
Run so far that if he escapes from me, he won’t be able to find you.
Racing outside, Grace studied the road leading up to the house. Rain fell lightly from the sky and everything was wet.
He’ll expect you to go for the road, so go anywhere else.
She didn’t stop to think, just moved, her feet pounding the wet ground as she ran around the house and through the trees at the back. Fear stabbed at her chest. And guilt. So much guilt for leaving her father and Logan. It almost suffocated her.
She ignored it all, focusing instead on moving. Running. Escaping. She needed to call for help. She was the only person who could.
Branches scraped across her cheeks, the rain falling heavily on her shoulders, soaking the ground and trying to trip her up. Her skin was so cold that trembling had started to rock her limbs.
She didn’t let it slow her down. Nothing could.
When her foot caught on a wet tree root, she went down, hitting the damp earth hard.
Grace didn’t allow herself a chance to acknowledge the pain or recoup her breath. Every second could be the difference between capture and freedom. Life and death.
Her feet moved faster. The scent of rain and wet dirt filling her nose.
Minutes passed before she finally lifted the phone in her hand. She said a silent thank you to whoever was watching over her that the thing wasn’t locked. She had two bars of signal. That had to be enough.
She slowed but didn’t stop. She didn’t dare.
Footsteps sounded down the hall seconds before the knock came at Blake’s office door. He looked up to see Jason and Flynn.
Jason leaned his shoulder against the doorway. “We’re off.”
Blake sighed, leaning back in his seat. He should really get going, too. But on nights when he didn’t have Mila, the house was too damn quiet.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be here for a bit longer.”
Flynn tilted his head to the side. “No Mila tonight.”
Ah, his team knew him too well. “Nope. Just me.” He tapped his pen on the desk. “How’s your mom doing?”
The team had chosen Cradle Mountain because Flynn’s mom needed assistance. She’d recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.
“Honestly, man…it’s hard. I hate that she got such a late diagnosis. I keep thinking, if I’d been here to notice the signs, she would have gotten the help she needed earlier.”
As it stood, his mother had a caregiver who visited daily. Flynn was also there a lot.
Jason clenched his friend’s shoulder. “You’re here now.”
He dipped his head in silent acknowledgment.
Yeah, Project Arma had taken a lot from them. In particular, time with loved ones.
The guys were just turning when the reception phone rang. They hadn’t hired a receptionist yet, so it was usually up to one of them to divert the call.
Blake lifted the phone and did just that. “Blake speaking.”
“Blake, it’s Grace!”
Blake frowned, the men opposite him straightening. Her voice was trembling and out of breath, and a strong breeze sounded in the background.
“What’s wrong, Grace?”
Heavy breathing came over the line. She was on the move. “Steve organized an agent to take us to see Lizzie. She was freaking out but it was a trap. She shot two agents and Logan. Then Kieran shot her. My dad’s trying to hold him off, but I don’t know how long he’ll last!”
Blake’s adrenaline spiked, his heart jackhammering in his chest. He called on his training to remain calm. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know.” A small sob sounded. More heavy wind. “I ran. I’m still running. I’ve just reached water.”
“Just a second, Grace, we’re going to figure out where you are.”
He nodded to Flynn, who’d already pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed Steve, who picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Grace and Logan are in trouble. Lizzie was working with Kieran. We need her location now.”
Steve cursed loudly across the line before quickly reciting the address. Blake rose from the chair, then they were all moving quickly, out of the office and down the stairs.
Blake sat in the passenger seat. “Stay on the line, Grace.”
“I want to go back to the house! See if my dad and Logan are okay.”
“Don’t even think about it. You put as much distance between you and that asshole as possible!”
Her breaths were louder now, but the lack of footsteps told Blake she’d stopped. “Logan was unconscious and my dad’s feet were bound together. He was injured. Kieran’s younger and stronger—”
“And I’m still betting your dad told you to run. He would not want you going back there. Grace, listen to me. Stay away from him. Keep running.” If Logan found out he let her go back, the guy would murder him. If someone had let Willow go back, he would do the same.
Silence.
Was she going to listen? Or was she going to return right to evil’s doorstep?
As Blake waited, Jason’s phone rang. He could just hear Aidan through the line. Jason cursed loudly.
“Okay. I’m running again,” Grace said quietly.
Good. “We won’t be long. You have my word.”
