by May Gordon
Grant
I struggle to get my belt undone, but it’s stuck. I banged my head good, but besides that, I don't feel any broken bones.
"Grace?" My voice is like gravel. I look over and see her eyes fluttering open, but they close again. Her head is bleeding. I panic and start frantically trying to rip my belt off. I see the huge SUV that hits us, back up. Then two men get out. It’s Trevor and Allen.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I yell. Grace's door is practically on its hinges. Allen comes over with a sledgehammer knocks it completely off, while Trevor reaches in and unbuckles Grace.
"Don't fucking touch her!" I scream at him. I swing at Trevor and pull Grace toward me. He pulls a gun from the back of his waistband and hist me in the head. I feel even more disoriented. "Hey!" I roar with blind rage. I manage to open my eyes and see Grace being pulled from the car. "Give her back." I'm desperate. Leaning down I grab the knife from my boot and cut off the belt. I kick open my door and stumble to the ground. Using the car to pull myself up, I round it just as the SUV takes off. "Grace!" I scream falling to my knees, shock still running through me.
I stare at the license plate, memorizing it. With shaking hands, I pull my phone from my back pocket dialling the sheriff.
“Hey, Grant,” James answers.
"Those fuckers of her father's, Allen and Trevor, just took Grace."
"What? Where are you?" James's voice is riddled with shock and anger.
"Main and Albert. They crashed into us and pulled her from the car. Black Ford SUV, lifted tires. New York plate Yankee, Victor, Green, three seven five, going East off Albert, heading out of town. My car’s trashed, I can't go after them." I bark to him while I go to the passenger side and pull my Glock 17 out of the glove compartment.
"I’m sending Deputy Connors out now to follow them. I'm coming to you." I lean against my car and try to catch my breath. I feel like my heart is about to burst. Grace. I need to get her back. I will do everything in my power to, even if that means I get sent to jail for doing it.
Grace
Slowly, I fight my way to consciousness. My head is pounding, and the liquid on the side of my head has dried. Carefully opening my eyes, I see Allen and Trevor sitting at a table in the corner of the room. I try to look around, but I’m seeing double. We appear to be in a house. It's older, but not completely rundown. I can see through the window, buts it's nothing but trees. Looking down, I see that I'm in a chair. My legs and hands both zip-tied.
"What are you two doing?" My voice is weak and crackly. Allen glances up from his phone.
"We've been looking for you Grace, you shouldn't have run off." His eyes look grim. "You've been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You should have listened to your father."
"He killed my mother. I know he did. He abused her for years, did you know that?" I gain my voice. Allen has worked for my father for as long as I can remember. Trevor only for about five years. He had to know something.
Allen looks indifferent. "It's not my job to question what my boss does, just to help clean it up."
My ears perk up at his words. "What did you do with her body, where is she?" I try to hold back my tears. Suddenly the front door opens, and my father walks through. He's dressed in one of his stupid expensive suits. He looks like a million-dollar grease bag.
"Grace, dear, I’m so happy to finally find you. I was worried." His voice gives no notion of it.
"I needed to find answers. I told you that, and I wasn't going to stop just because you yelled or slapped me around." I spit at him.
"Yes, well I'm afraid I need to do more than slap you around this time. Don't you think I know what you're up to? Your sheriff thought he was sly poking around low key, but I have friends, and they’re loyal." He moves closer, shaking his head, disappointment and anger in his eyes.
"Oh Grace, I had such high hopes for you. If you’d only just obeyed me. I had a plan for you. You could have been a top lawyer in my firm, taking over my well-established legacy, marrying a man I chose for you and living happily ever after. But you had to push, had to find out the truth about that no-good mother of yours." He sneers at me.
"You killed her; I know you did. Just admit it." Tears are rolling down my face, from anger not sadness.
"Yes, I did. She was just like you. Digging for the truth when things didn't add up. She was trying to take me down, from the inside. And I couldn't let that happen, so I dealt with her." He doesn't even look sorry, he says it likes it's just another job he had to do.
"Then why did you marry her?" I scream at him.
"I needed an image and she was a nobody from the middle of nowhere. She was easy to manipulate and didn't argue, and when she started to push back, I got rid of her." He shrugs as if it was no big deal. "Her parents did too, which is why I took care of them as well."
I gasp, though I’m not surprised. I just can't believe one man can be so evil. “I knew you had something to do with that.”
That shocked him. “You have been busy, Grace. You were always a smart girl, too bad you’re using it in the wrong places. This desire to investigate is from your mother’s side. I had no idea so much trouble would come from marrying one woman.” His voice takes a dangerous tone.
"You son of a bitch! You took their lives when you could have just let her go." I scream at him. He slaps me across the face. Hard. I feel the sting of his hand on my cheek.
"Shut up. I've had enough of you. You created your own grave." He snaps his finger and Allen stands, walking over and handing him a gun. My father cocks it and points it at me.
Fear comes over me, and it's not from a gun being in my face. It's the thought that I'll never see Grant again, never get my happily ever after with him.
Chapter 12
Grant
"Can't you go any faster?" I grumble as I load my other Glock. As soon as he picked me up, we put a trace on Grace's phone. They must not have noticed she had it, probably because they tried to trace her old one and came up with nothing.
"Connors is standing nearby waiting. He won't breach without us."
"Thomas is mine, he kidnaped my woman. I'm putting a bullet in his head, " I growl out.
"Between you and me, I won't stop you. But I think it would be better for all if he went to jail. Killing him gives him an out. His men will be armed, so be ready anyways.” Sheriff James tells me calmly. I don’t know how he’s so calm. I’m freaking out. I know he’s right. Killing him would be too easy.
We pull up on the side of the road; they are in a cabin just outside of town. Jumping out, I start toward the house. "Sheriff, you head around the back, Connors cover the side. I’ve got the front door." I pull my gun out to double check it.
"Wait for my signal, then move in," I call over my shoulder.
"Which is?" Connors asks.
"Me kicking in the fucking front door. Shoot anyone who's not Grace. If you hit her, then I will kill you!" I growl at them.
We get into place, and I crouch down peeking through the window. I see Grace tied to a chair. She looks battered from the car crash, but nothing critical from what I can see. I see Thomas standing in front of Grace, then Allen comes from out of sight and hands him a gun. I know I didn't have much time left; I need to move quickly.
Stepping back, I kick open the door, popping Allen in the shoulder. The sheriff comes in the back door shooting Trevor to my right. Her dad turns around and fires a shot, but not before I do the same, hitting him in the shoulder. I feel a painful burning sensation in my upper shoulder. Thomas goes down and I hear Grace scream. Holstering my gun, I run over to Grace. The sheriff and Connors deal with Thomas, Allen, and Trevor.
I quickly kneel in front of her, gently cupping her face. "God, Gracie, are you okay? Please be okay." I look at her. She is bloody and bruised, but she smiles at me. I feel a huge weight lift off me. It feels like we’ve been separated for years, not hours.
"I'm so happy you found me." Tears spill over her beautiful green eyes. She notices my
shoulder and gasps. "You’re shot!" She shrieks at me.
Ignoring her and the pain in my shoulder, I pull my knife out of my boot. I cut the zip-ties on her ankles, then go around and do the same for her hands. Lifting her in my arms, she tries to protest. "Grant, you’re hurt!"
"Stop it; we're getting you to the hospital, now," I growl at her, leaving no room for argument. Looking at her father who's now in handcuffs. I take a step toward him, but the sheriff blocks my way.
"We'll take him down to the station and call this in, you take my squad car and go to the hospital. I'll come by later." He gives Grace his keys.
It takes all of me not to choke that son of a bitch right now, but Grace is hurt. And I probably need a few stitches. I stare her father down and promise him, "I'm not done with you." Grace is my priority, then we'll figure the rest out.
At the hospital, we wait for the Dr. Anders to return with some last-minute test. Overall Grace is fine, though she has a concussion. Again. Scratches and bruises but no broken bones or internal bleeding. Once more, she was lucky. It fucking kills me she’s been through this twice in so little time. I hate sitting at her bedside, although last time I claimed she was my wife. I can’t help but chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Grace’s sweet voice hits my ears, and I look up, she has a curious smile on her beautiful face.
"Just thinking about the first time we were here and I was trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my fake wife." I give her a grin. She laughs, making me smile even more.
"And now I'm your real wife." She winks at me, but it only makes me frown because she’s not. At least not yet. I slide off my chair and sit on the bed next to her, holding her hands in mine. They are scratched and bruised, and I feel sick not being able to protect her.
"Grace, I know I've done a shit job protecting you, but if you'll let me, I will make it up to you." I reach into my pocket and pull out the antique ring I bought two weeks ago. "But if you give me a lifetime, I'll do just that." I slide the ring on her finger. Suddenly I feel her start to laugh.
"Don't you actually have to ask me to marry you?" She gives me a cheeky smile.
"Hate to break it to you, Gracie, but I wouldn't have given you a choice." I bring her hands up to my lips and kiss them softly.
"I wouldn't have given you one either." My heart feels like it's about to burst. I lean in and kiss her lips, keeping in mind her face is still sore.
She giggles and looks at her ring "Grant, it's beautiful." It's a simple white gold band with a single green stone in the center. It reminded me of Grace's eyes. She looks up, and I see pure happiness radiating from her. I don't want to diminish that glow, but I must ask.
"Are you sure you're okay? Considering what you learned, I thought you'd be more upset." I mention carefully. Earlier she told me everything, about what her father said, his confession.
She lets out a slow breath before replying, "Honestly, I feel relieved. I knew she was gone. And I was questioning my grandparents’ deaths. Not knowing for sure drove me mad. Now I know." She does look lighter.
She strokes my face. "How's your shoulder?"
"Just a few stitches, it was barely a graze."
"Well, we’ll rest when we get home, and then later, you can take me down to the courthouse because I'm not waiting a minute longer to marry you for real."
Staring at her, I see what I have since I first saw her. My future, my everything. And I can't wait to start our lives together. A grin spreads across my face. "That's my line."
Chapter 13
Grant- One month later
I hang the framed photo on the shop’s office wall, making sure its straight. Stepping back, I admire it. It's a huge 15x21 picture of Grace and I on our wedding day. I'm in a black suit, the first one I've ever worn in my life. Grace, oh god. Grace is wearing a simple white wedding dress. Long, Lacey, and flowing, Her beautiful red hair is down and looks like a waterfall down her back.
We’re posing in front of my Nova. Thankfully, I got it fixed before the wedding. That was two weeks ago. It's been a month since Grace left the hospital. I wanted to marry her the next day, but she wanted to at least wait until she didn't look like she was sent through a blender. Staring at it now, I’m glad we waited. I wouldn’t want to see her bruised face as a reminder every time I looked at our wedding photo. I’ve probably printed out nearly a hundred copies, placing them all over the house and garage.
"Think that's big enough, boss?" Miles asks behind me, dropping papers on Grace's desk.
"Not nearly. I want every mother fucker to see who she belongs to once they step into this place." I turn and walk out of the office, Miles following me. I go over to my workspace and start tuning an engine.
"Where is Grace anyways?" David asks from my left where he’s working on a car.
"Joe's driving her over to Miss Elis's Bakery to drop off a painting."
"We know why Joe volunteered for that job." Miles states. We all chuckle. Joe, the old goat, has a major crush for Miss Elis.
I hear a car outside, and Sheriff James enters the garage. "Grant," he gives me a head nod.
"Sheriff, what's the word?" I wipe my hands on a rag and meet him.
"Thomas was denied bail again, and his trial is officially moving forward. Between all the evidence from the box, kidnapping charges, and the fact that both Allen and Trevor agreed to testify against him, I doubt he’ll see freedom anytime soon." He seems pleased with himself.
I'm glad I didn't end up killing Allen or Trevor. Turns out Allen is only loyal until he’s caught. He was willing to spill his guts to get a lighter sentence. And boy did he. He told the DA about everything, the murders of Gloria and her parents and much more.
"Grace needed closure, and that's what she got. Her dad going away is all that matters. Besides, I have friends on the inside that I asked to give him a hard time." The sheriff gives an evil chuckle at my statement.
"Well, I'll see you around. I just wanted to update you." We shake hands, and then he gets in his car and leaves as Joe and Grace pull in. She gets out and walks toward me.
"Gracie." I bring her close and give her a deep kiss. Pulling back, I nod to Joe. "Thanks, man."
"No problem, my boy. Anytime," he says sounding chipper.
Grace giggles. "Mis. Elis asked him out, so he's in a good mood". I sling my arm around her, and we head into the office.
She hangs her coat and purse on the hooks and sits at her desk. I sit beside her.
"How did she like the painting?"
"She loved it, and I got a few more orders online." She smiles at me. Her paintings were so popular here in town we decided to make her a website. It's been very successful. We even converted the apartment upstairs into another studio, so she could paint while she’s here.
"That's great, Gracie." I lean down and give her a soft kiss. I’m so proud of her.
"What did Sheriff James say?" She murmurs against my lips.
Pulling back, I take her hands in mine. "Thomas has been denied bail again, and a trial will start soon, there’s no way he'll get off."
She sighs in relief "Well, I'm glad we don't have to worry about it anymore." She rubs her eyes. She looks exhausted. She's been tired a lot lately. I assume it’s from all our late-night activities or the stress of her father trying to get bail.
"Hey, why don't we leave early, grab some food from town, and head home?" I pull her up from the chair and wrap my arms around her, stroking her back. She hums with delight.
"That sounds great, let's go." I give her a quick kiss before gathering her stuff. I tell the guys to lock up after work, and we stop for food before going home. Home, it’s something I never had before. But thanks to Grace, I do now and realize how much I’d always hoped for one.
Grace
After brushing my teeth, I glance at myself in the mirror. I feel tired, but to me, I've never looked better. I feel like I'm glowing. But that's what they say about pregnancy, right? This last month has been a whirl
wind. After being released from the hospital, Grant and I focused on healing, but we also fell into our same routine. I worked at the garage, in the office, and painted most days. Our wedding was simple to plan and believe it or not we didn't have to tell anyone the truth. We just said we wanted to get married in this town, where we plan to live for the rest of our lives. Thinking about not having my mom at my wedding made me sad, but the feeling of closure and that my father is on his way to jail helps. I can honour her memory through painting.
Not long after I left the hospital, I started feeling the symptoms. And five secretly taken tests later it’s confirmed. I plan on telling him tonight, but I'm still trying to figure out how. It's not that I'm scared to tell him, it’s just big news, I want it to be special.
There's a knock on the door, and I turn to see Grant leaning on the frame. He's shirtless, with just gym shorts on, and I can't help but admire his tall and muscular form.
"Care to join me in the shower, Mrs. Grant?" he gives me a hungry look, and I smile at him.
He walks over and turns it on, then comes up behind me. He moves my hair away from my neck and stars kissing it, his hands traveling to my top and slowly pulling it up and over my head revealing my bare chest. Spinning me around, he locks his mouth on mine and easily pushes down my shorts, and I do the same with him.
Grant drags me into the shower and under the spray. Our kisses get hotter and heavier. He reaches up and massages my breasts, and I can't help but gasp from their sensitivity. It's a sweet pain, and I don't want him to stop. I moan when I feel his mouth on my nipple. I run my hands through his hair. Feeling a burst of aggressiveness, I push Grant against the bathroom wall. He seems surprised, but his face quickly turns to a heavy hunger when I slowly start to drop to my knees. I've discovered that I love giving Grant as much pleasure as possible. I take him into my mouth, and hear a moan spill from his lips. It spurs me on, making me suck harder, faster as he grips my hair guiding me the way he likes it. I feel him tense up, his cock feeling even fuller in my mouth. I know he's close. Suddenly, he yanks me up, pins me to the wall and enters me in one swift motion.