by Dirk Greyson
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
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Copyright
Hell and Back
By Dirk Greyson
Seventeen years ago, Forge Reynolds fell in love… and had his heart broken. When Staff Sergeant Gage Livingston was brought into Forge’s Army field hospital, temporarily paralyzed, Forge sat with him, read his letters, answered his mail, and formed a connection he thought would last. But Gage was sent home, Forge transferred to a new post, and his letters to Gage went unanswered.
Now in the middle of a bitter divorce, Forge is sick and tired of his husband’s manipulation. He's almost ready to make any sacrifice to get closure—then he finds Granger murdered execution-style in their home. Forge had no idea about Granger’s illicit activities, but the killers don’t believe that. They think Forge has something they want, and they’re coming after him.
When Forge’s lawyer arranges for professional protection, the last face Forge expects to see is Gage’s. Can he even contemplate a second chance for them after almost two decades, or will hoping only lead to more heartache? Before they can explore the possibilities, they must figure out what information Granger had—that others are willing to kill for—or that possible heartache could become a certainty.
To Dominic, Elizabeth, and Lynn, because they understand that sometimes I need to kill people (in fiction, of course).
Chapter 1
“VINCE, I don’t know what the hell to do anymore.” Forge Reynolds sat in one of the client chairs in his lawyer’s office, as he had so many time over the last eight months, wondering just how much more of this he could take. “I’m not asking for anything that isn’t reasonable or that I’m not entitled to.” He huffed slowly. This was a war of attrition, and Forge was starting to feel like a casualty.
“That’s very true, but Granger has obviously decided to fight you on every point, no matter how small.” Vince shook his regal head of impressively black hair. He was an unusual attorney in that he wasn’t all buttoned-up and proper. His hair was long and shiny and so black that it had hints of blue. Forge might have been attracted to him if Vince hadn’t been straight. But after trying to end one marriage for the last eight months and going through hell, again and again, at this point in his life, Forge was planning to give up on men all together.
“What do we do from here?”
“We’ll counteroffer, and I’ll add all the legal points in our favor. At this point the law is on our side because it states very clearly for ‘equitable division of the assets.’ They should be close to even, not with one party deciding he wants it all because he’s a greedy son of a bitch.” Vince inhaled sharply. “Did I say that?” He placed his hand over his mouth, and Forge laughed for the first time in weeks. “Don’t worry, I’ll….”
“Can I see his offer again?” Forge asked. He was tempted to just tell Vince to take it. That way he could have this whole thing done and could move on with his life. One of the bones of contention was the house, especially since they still lived under the same roof. They hadn’t slept in the same bed for eight months, not since Forge had kicked Granger’s cheating ass out of the master bed, literally. Granger had had the gall, after the asshole’s affair became public, to crawl into bed as normal. Forge had pushed him hard enough that Granger actually rolled onto the floor. A screaming match commenced, but it ended with Forge emptying Granger’s closet by hauling everything to the guest room and dumping it in a pile on the floor. When Granger tried to stop him, Forge had used Granger’s shoes as missiles.
Forge stopped his woolgathering and took the papers to look them over once again. “Go ahead with your plan.” He handed the papers back, shaking his head. “But we have to bring this to an end, somehow. I need my life and my sanity back.”
He had done his best not to allow the upheaval in his personal life to affect his work and friends, but he was finding that nearly impossible. As an interior designer for companies, he required a great deal of creativity, and that part of himself had been slowly dying throughout this ordeal. Forge knew he needed this to end so he could breathe again and maybe have a life that wasn’t consumed with divorce proceedings, offers, counteroffers, and fights at home revolving around how Granger kept trying to hide assets.
“This will end. There is no doubt about that.” Vince set the papers on his immaculately clean desk and stood.
Forge did the same and shook Vince’s hand before leaving the office. He stopped to say hello to Vince’s assistant, Gloria, before heading back to his office in downtown Milwaukee, lost in thought. Work was quickly becoming his sanctuary. Most days it was relatively quiet and he was able to think. But that was also a problem—his thoughts were consumed with his troubles with Granger.
“How did it go?” Rory asked, plopping into one of his desk chairs after closing the door. “What did Dickhead, Esquire, want now?” Rory was on his creative team and was bright and enthusiastic. He was also incredibly loyal and took delight in coming up with new and interesting lawyerly names for Granger. It was a source of amusement for both of them.
“More and more, it seems. Just when it looks like we’re getting close, he changes his demands. I think this is a game for him. He doesn’t need anything and has plenty of money, which he will still have when this is over. It’s just an ego thing. Win at all costs—and I’ve about had it. Thankfully he’s been on a business trip for the last few days and the house has been quiet. But that will change tonight.” Forge wasn’t looking forward to it.
“If you need anything, you know all you have to do is say something.” Rory smiled the same smile he used when he wanted something. He had made little effort to hide the fact that he was interested in Forge, which Forge found flattering but nothing more.
“How about we talk about something else?” He needed something, anything else, to distract him.
“If we must,” Rory said in an exaggerated manner, then gave him an update on where he was with all current projects for the design team that Forge headed. “The only problem right now is Midwest Bank. They still want to go with a variation of the same tired look they’ve had for twenty years, and it just makes them look out of step with the times. It’s dated and makes the entire organization look worn out.”
“I know. I’ve been giving that some thought. I have a meeting with a new client in fifteen minutes, but after that, let’s sit down with the entire team and see what we can do to try to accomplish both goals. There has to be a way. We just need to find it.” Forge hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.
“I don’t know if that’s possible, but we can try.” Rory stood and left the office, giving Forge a few minutes to get ready for his meeting.
THE REST of the afternoon went more smoothly than Forge had thought it would. They developed a potential solution to their Midwest Bank problem, and Forge landed a new client that promised to be an interesting project. The thing was, he dreaded going home. Granger was going to be there, and the tension between them would have Forge’s nerves on edge. Not for the first time, he wondered how he and Granger had gotten to this point. They’d met twelve years earlier when Forge was twenty-four, and things had been great. They were both at the start of their careers and had been intent on taking on the world. They had built a life together, buying a house, getting married once it was legal, a
nd working together a few times but mostly supporting each other.
Forge kept trying to figure out when things had gone wrong. Their passionate relationship had cooled somewhat over time, but they were still close, or had been, and they’d still been intimate even if they weren’t humping like rabbits. They both worked long hours—maybe that had been it? Too much time at work and not enough time spent together at home, or taking the vacations they needed to reconnect on a regular basis. Maybe they both thought things were good until temptation stepped in front of one of them, and then things weren’t so good anymore.
It hurt like hell that Granger had cheated on him with some kid he’d met at a club. Maybe if Granger had taken Forge to the club, the two of them could have had some fun together and things would have been different… maybe not.
Determined to put Granger out of his head for a while at least, Forge buried himself in brainstorming for his new client. When he finally sat back, the clock flashed 9:05 at him. Grabbing his computer case, Forge shut down his computer and pushed his chair away from his desk. He figured it was time to go home and face the music, the fighting… or, if he was lucky, the tense silence.
Everyone else from the team had left hours ago, and Forge said good night to the cleaning crew as he passed and headed for the exit. He rode the elevator down to the garage and went to his BMW sedan. He tried not to think about how it had been an anniversary gift from Granger almost five years before, when things between them were still bright. Forge got in, backed out, and exited the garage before making his way through city traffic to the freeway, then traveling north beyond the initial suburbs to River Hills.
When they had decided to buy their house, Granger had been insistent it was going to be in the posh suburb. All the lots were two acres, and that meant huge, ostentatious homes—just what Granger had wanted. Forge exited the freeway and made his way home. He pulled into the long driveway along the side of the property and up to a house that was bigger than two people were ever going to need.
The lights were on everywhere, so Forge knew Granger was home. The man never met a light he could turn off behind him. Forge opened his door of the three-car garage and pulled inside, then closed it behind him. He got out and followed the light inside the silent house. “Granger!” Forge called before he could stop himself. He really shouldn’t care where he was, and hell, Forge should be grateful for the quiet, make a quick dinner, and escape to his bedroom.
He set his case on the counter and walked through the downstairs rooms, expecting to hear Granger somewhere in the house, but he heard nothing. All was quiet. Forge went upstairs and wandered through the various rooms, including one that was empty except for a few boxes, because what did two people need with five bedrooms? They didn’t, so they’d never used it. Granger’s bedroom was neat and vacant, as were all the other rooms upstairs.
Forge wondered if he might have been wrong, but Granger’s car had been in the garage, so he had to be home somewhere. Forge changed into more comfortable clothes and went back downstairs, then to the finished basement. They had built a huge media room there for parties and movies, but everything was dark. There was definitely something wrong. “Granger!” Forge yelled, his voice echoing through the cavernous entrance space. He returned to the kitchen, thinking about making something to eat, and noticed the sliding door that went out to the back deck was partially open.
“Granger?” he called more quietly as he pushed the door wide open and stepped out into the late-spring air. He inhaled, expecting to fill his nose with the scents of the flowering trees and shrubs that he’d planted all over the property. Sweetness filled his nose, but not quite what he was expecting. Forge walked to the far edge of the huge deck, to the very end of the circle of light, and looked out over the yard, but saw nothing. He returned to the kitchen and flipped on every switch, illuminating the backyard with a plethora of floods and landscape lighting.
Then he saw him, a figure, very familiar, lying on the grass, facedown. Forge gasped and willed his feet to move, but they remained planted where they were. Finally he got himself propelled down the deck stairs to the lawn and over to where Granger lay in a heap, covered in blood… so much blood. Forge turned away and lost whatever had been in his stomach, falling to his knees as he retched a few feet away from what was left of his husband. Even his military training as a medical logistics specialist, where he’d spent a lot of time in hospitals, hadn’t prepared him for this.
Forge forced himself to turn and look at Granger. The body was covered in blood. What was left of his light blue shirt, mostly soaked with blood, was covered in holes. Someone had wanted to make sure Granger was not only dead, but ripped apart. For a second it reminded him of a scene from one of the Godfather movies.
Forge crumpled onto the ground, weeping softly for Granger. He cried for what they’d been to each other and for what might have been and had been snuffed out long before its time.
Once he was able to think again, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called 911. “I need some help. My name is Forge Reynolds. My husband has been shot multiple times.” He gave her the address and did his very best not to fall apart completely.
“Is he breathing?”
“No. I got home a few minutes ago and found him in the backyard. He’s been shot, a lot of times, and….” He gasped and grew silent.
“Emergency services are on the way.”
“Thank you, and we definitely need the police.” It was probably a given from what he’d told her, but his mind was more than a little clouded at the moment.
“Don’t worry, sir. We’ve alerted everyone, and they are already on their way.” The operator continued to talk in a soothing voice, but he wasn’t listening.
Sirens sounded in the distance, drawing closer. Forge went back inside and out the front door. Fire trucks, police, and an ambulance all arrived, filling his driveway. “They’ve arrived, thank you,” Forge told the operator and hung up, then directed everyone out to the backyard.
An officer asked for Forge’s information, and he rattled it off numbly. “Just wait in the living room,” the policeman told him, and Forge did as instructed while everyone else traipsed through the house and out to the yard. The officer returned a few minutes later and sat on the edge of one of the chairs across from him. “I’m Officer Wilson. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I got home from work and found him in the backyard. I didn’t know where he was at first, and it took me a while to find him. I knew Granger had to be home—his car was in the garage. I found the open patio door and turned on all the lights.”
“Did you try to revive him?”
Forge shook his head. “He was covered in blood and full of holes. I got sick when I saw him.” Forge tried to breathe evenly to keep down the possibility of getting sick again. “Then I called for help and all of you arrived.”
“Isn’t it late to get home from work?” Officer Wilson asked.
“Granger and I have been having problems. We’re in the middle of a messy divorce… or at least we were. So coming home hasn’t been very pleasant, and I work late quite a bit.”
Officer Wilson nodded as he made notes. “Can anyone vouch for that?”
“Yes.” Forge checked his watch. “I left the office forty minutes ago and said good night to the cleaning crew, Grant and his sister, Rhonda. They’ll remember me.” He provided the address where he worked, having nothing to hide.
“Did Granger have any enemies?”
“Probably. He was an attorney, combative and high-powered. He won a lot more cases than he lost, so I’m sure he made enemies of some sort. But I don’t know anyone who’d want to kill him. He didn’t do criminal work. He mostly represented companies or fought against them when that was the case. Sure, insurance companies loved and hated him, depending on what side of the case they were on, but I doubt they’d gun him down in the backyard.” This whole thing didn’t make any sense. He shook his head, unable to think of anything else to say.
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“You said you were getting a divorce.”
“Yes. We were married in 2014 when it became legal, and shortly afterward, things began falling apart, I guess. We filed about eight months ago.”
“But you’re both still living here?”
Forge shook his head. “Yes, we’ve both been living here, but in separate rooms. Granger is an attorney, so the divorce was another case he had to win. He cheated on me, and I kicked him out of our bedroom. It’s been hard, but I didn’t hurt him.”
“I wasn’t saying you did, but the more facts we have, the better.” Officer Wilson continued making notes, and Forge wished he knew if Officer Wilson believed him or not. It worried him that they might think he’d done this when Forge had nothing to do with it. On television, ex-husbands and ex-wives got blamed for things all the time.
“I’m sure.” Forge grew quiet since it seemed Officer Wilson might have run out of questions for now. But he had no illusions—there would be plenty more.
Another policeman appeared in the doorway, and Officer Wilson stood and walked over to him. They talked softly for a few seconds, and then Officer Wilson left. The other man sat down quietly. Forge knew he was being babysat, which was fine. He wasn’t interested in being alone.
Forge dug his phone out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a call.” He found the number in his contacts, and the call connected. “Vince, it’s Forge. I need your help.”
“I’m working on the papers now.”
“I don’t…. Look, I got home and found Granger shot in the backyard. I’m sure he’s dead. The police are here right now and….”
“Jesus…. Okay, I’m on my way.” Vince hung up, and Forge placed his phone on the coffee table.
“Mr. Reynolds,” yet another officer said as he came into the room with Officer Wilson. The babysitter stayed where he was. “I’m Detective Coleridge.” He looked at the others, and they retreated, leaving the two of them alone. “I understand you found the victim.”