Road to Grace

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Road to Grace Page 13

by Piper Davenport


  Joe scoffed. “This guy’s a biker. Calls himself ‘Hatchet’ or some shit like that.”

  “Hatch,” Ryan corrected, stepping slightly in front of me.

  Seriously, I wanted to cut Joe into several pieces… maybe with a hatchet. This man was taking liberties.

  “Well, he’s not talking, so if you can get something out of him, more power to you.”

  “I’ll do my darn tootin’ best, partner,” I said.

  “You wanna bring him down in ten?” Ryan asked, shooting me another look.

  Joe nodded. “Sure.”

  “Dial it back a bit, John Wayne,” Ryan warned as he pulled me into an interrogation room and I paced the small space, hands on my hips, in an effort not to hit something.

  “Maisie,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Sit down.” He opened the manila folder on the table and pointed to something. “I need you to look at this.”

  I leaned over, and he whispered again, “Camera. Remember, look engaged.”

  I nodded and pointed at another part of the page. “You failed to mention cameras, Ryan. Can we get them turned off?”

  “I’m going to see what I can do. Just follow my lead.”

  “I’ll follow your lead, so long as it leads me to getting my arms around my man.”

  The door opened, and I glanced up to see Hatch being pushed into the room. His eyes hit mine and I desperately tried not to react. Outwardly, he was the model of a pissed off man being held without reason, but his eyes. Ohmigod, his eyes. They softened, and I saw every little bit of love he was trying to send me with one look.

  He looked healthy. Pissed off, but healthy.

  Joe led Hatch to the table and settled him facing the camera. Ryan walked Joe to the door and closed the door behind him, turning to face us. “You have about a minute to say something until they figure out I’ve unplugged the camera, make it quick.”

  I didn’t hesitate, wrapping my arms around Hatch and kissing him gently. “Hey.”

  “Hey, sunshine. What are you doin’ here?”

  “I’m acting as the munitions expert.”

  He choked back a laugh. “What the fuck?”

  “I love you. I miss you. We are going to figure out how to get you out of here, okay?”

  “Okay, baby. I trust you.”

  “I need to plug the camera back in,” Ryan said.

  I leaned over and kissed Hatch one more time. He responded, which only made me want to strip him down and fuck him in the interrogation room, camera be damned.

  “Maisie,” Ryan warned, and I sat across from Hatch, opening the file. I managed to mouth, ‘I love you’ to him before Ryan joined us.

  “And that’s why we want to know what you know,” Ryan said.

  I had to give it to my friend. He acted like he’d been speaking the whole time. I saw now that it was for the benefit of whoever was watching… hopefully, they would assume the camera had malfunctioned.

  Hatch stared at him, but said nothing.

  “I see you’re not a talker,” I observed, and Hatch dropped his head. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Even he thought my American accent is shite… or shit.

  Ryan flipped some pages in the file, then slid them to him. “What about this? Do you know anything?”

  I leaned forward and saw Ryan had notes written directly to Hatch, filling him in on what was happening with the club, and updates on what Booker had found. Shit I didn’t even know.

  Hatch didn’t react, just read the pages, then sat back. “Can’t help ya.”

  God, I wanted to jump him. His cool, confident swagger in spite of his circumstances was something I’d fallen in love with before everything else. Sexy as hell.

  His eyes hit mine and I knew he didn’t miss me licking my lips. He diverted his gaze back to Ryan and gave him a smug smile.

  “What about this?” Ryan pressed, flipping another page.

  Hatch glanced at me and my panties nearly melted off, then he focused on the pages.

  “When do I get my lawyer?” Hatch asked, leaning back again.

  “We still got time to detain you,” Ryan said.

  Hatch shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

  Ryan pushed out of his chair and paced. “I can’t believe you don’t have any… okay, guys, you’ve got another minute.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw he’d messed with the camera again, so I virtually jumped across the table to kiss Hatch. “I miss you so much, darling.”

  “I know, baby. You covered?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Every single club member has been by the house more than once since you were taken, so, yes, I’m covered. Are you eating?”

  “Yeah, sunshine, all things considered, they’re treatin’ me like a human.”

  “How are you so calm?”

  “Baby, there’s nothin’ I can do. It’s out of my control. I trust my brothers, yeah? They’ll figure it out.”

  I blinked back tears.

  “Sunshine, don’t cry. It’s all temporary.”

  “It’s not if they lock you up permanently.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He leaned forward. “Now, kiss your man, then go home and try not to worry.”

  I kissed him, because I had to, or I might die, but not worrying just wasn’t going to happen. “I love you.”

  “I love you more, sunshine. Remember that,” he whispered.

  A bang on the door had me jumping away from Hatch and sitting back at the table. Ryan opened the door. “I think we’re done here.”

  “Something’s wrong with the camera,” Joe said.

  Ryan frowned. “Oh? Let me look.” He acted like he was doing something behind the door. “Loose wire. All fixed, but we should get some duct tape on that.”

  “Did you get anything?”

  “Nothing useful, no,” Ryan said. “I’ll take him back to lock-up.”

  “I’ll walk Linda out,” Joe said.

  “I’m good,” I rushed to say, almost forgetting to use an American accent. “I know my way out.”

  Hatch dropped his head again and I reminded myself to verbally spank him when he got home… maybe I’d really spank him as well.

  Bloody hell, I was going to go through a few vibrators tonight.

  * * *

  Grace

  I had one more week before I began my time at PBC, which meant I had one more week to see Flea every day. After that… it was going to be a crap shoot.

  This morning, though, would be the first time I’d seen him in two days, and I knew we were going to be way too busy for any time together. Hatch was still being “detained,” and his brothers were finishing up a big construction project, so we were short-handed… again.

  I saw Flea’s bike as I drove into the parking lot and smiled. He’d beat me here. Maybe we would have a few minutes to reconnect.

  I parked next to his bike and then headed inside. “Flea?” I called.

  “Back here,” he called, and I followed the sound of his voice to the parts room. Pushing open the door, I gasped. He’d pulled a folding table into the room and covered it with a tablecloth. In the middle of the table was a vase with a single rose, along with bagels, cream cheese, and the coffee pot from the kitchen filled with glorious fresh wake-up juice.

  “What did you do?” I asked, setting my bag on the floor.

  He slid his arms around my waist and leaned down to kiss me. “Figured we wouldn’t have a lot of time over the next week, so want to make mornings a priority.”

  “You’re kind of perfect, you know that?” I asked, looping my arms around his neck.

  “It’s not all altruistic,” he said. “Miss you, Grace. Miss having my cock inside your pussy.”

  I giggled. “So romantic.”

  “It’s been almost a week.”

  “And whose fault is that?” I challenged, running my hands through his hair. God, I loved his hair.

  “How’s your grandmother?”

  “She’s actu
ally really good. She’s up more and more, moving around on her own. The doctor’s really happy with her progress.”

  “Good.” He kissed me again. “Kate wants us over for dinner on Sunday. You think Finch or your dad can stay with your Grams?”

  “Probably.”

  “Wanna stay at my place Sunday night?”

  “I start the ballet on Monday.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked.

  He smiled. “Plan to get you home early enough to fuck you into oblivion. You’ll be well-rested, so, yeah, I think it’s a great idea.”

  I shivered, closing my eyes. “How early?”

  “Early,” he whispered, then his mouth was on mine and I was holding on for dear life. Way too soon for my liking, he broke the kiss and dropped his forehead to mine. “Fuck.”

  “Do we have to wait until Sunday?” I whispered.

  “No. I’ll figure something else out this week, just want you in my bed Sunday night.”

  “Okay.” I kissed him once more, then broke our connection to grab some food.

  “Hey,” he complained, pulling me back to him. “I wasn’t finished.”

  I giggled. “I’m starving.”

  His hand slid up my shirt and tugged down my bra, cupping a breast. “Me too.”

  “We’re opening the store in less than fifteen minutes, honey. We don’t have time.”

  He kissed my neck, running his thumb over my nipple. “We’ll make time.”

  “Flea!” Preacher bellowed. “Where you at?”

  “Asshole,” he hissed, fixing my clothes. “You good?”

  I nodded, and he kissed me once more, then walked out of the room. I grabbed a bagel and coffee before heading to the staff room.

  * * *

  By the time lunch time rolled around, I was dead on my feet. I hadn’t been able to sit down for the past two hours, and I knew the rest of the day was going to be worse.

  “Lunch, baby,” Flea said, walking in from the back.

  “Do we have time?” I asked, distractedly as I entered numbers into the computer.

  “We’re gonna make time. You need to eat.”

  I continued to enter parts numbers into our database. “I can just grab another bagel.”

  His arms came around me and he lifted my hands off the keyboard, kissing the back of my neck. “Protein, honey.”

  I sighed. “Cream cheese has protein.”

  He chuckled. “Come on. Preacher’s gonna watch the front.”

  I saved my work, then logged out and followed Flea out the door. He held his hand out to me and I took it as we walked to the Chinese restaurant.

  Despite the business of the restaurant, we were seated almost immediately, and it hit me that we wouldn’t be able to do this again. I mean, after this week, anyway.

  “Hey.”

  I met Flea’s eyes and forced a smile. “Hey.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just a little sad.”

  He slid his hand across the table and turned it, palm up.

  I laid mine over his. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “I don’t want you to leave either.” He smiled. “But you’re getting a chance to follow your dream. Nothing better than that.”

  “I just wasn’t expecting to miss you,” I admitted.

  “It’s not like you’re leaving town, Grace.”

  “I know, but I’m going to be slammed. At least here I can see you every day.”

  “We’re gonna make time, honey.” He squeezed my hand.

  “We better, or I’m gonna be really pissed at us.”

  He chuckled. “Me too.”

  “I have two classes this week, but I was able to schedule one on Wednesday.”

  “With Cass?”

  I shook my head. “No, one of the principals teaches a few nights a week.”

  “Good way to network.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “Let me know the address and I’ll pick you up.”

  “It’ll probably be all over before Church is over.”

  “I’ll make it work.”

  I smiled. “Sounds good.”

  Finishing our lunch, we headed back to work, then said goodbye at my car since I had to get home and change before my class with Cassidy. Hopefully, we’d see each other tomorrow night, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Grace

  WEDNESDAY NIGHT, I stood at the barre with a couple of other ‘newbies,’ and watched Vitaly Popov, a visiting dancer from Russia, demonstrate a few moves with his partner, Zoe Campbell. She was another principal dancer, and beautiful wasn’t quite adequate to describe her. She was perfect.

  The ballet company had a kickass principal team, and if I wanted in, I was going to have to work my ass off. I was good with that… I just wasn’t sure Flea would be.

  “You.” Vitaly pointed at me and I stood straighter. “Come here.”

  I walked to the middle of the room and took his hand.

  “Your name?”

  “Grace.”

  “How is your grand jeté?”

  “It’s my favorite move, actually.”

  He smiled. “Show me.”

  I made my way to the corner of the room, began my run and lifted off my feet, spreading into a split and keeping my toes pointed as I flew through the air. My heart soared as I came down perfectly, rising up on my toes to finish the jump.

  “Sovershenstvo… perfection,” Vitaly said with a clap.

  I took a curtsy and grinned. “Thank you.”

  He waved me back. “I’m going to lift you onto my shoulder, then take you into a fish dive. Do you trust me?”

  I nodded and took his hand again. As he settled his hands on my waist, I went into a relevé to sous sus, down to a plié, then Vitaly lifted me in one quick move onto his shoulder. I shifted just a hair and he dropped me into a fish dive, which could have easily gone badly had he not been strong… and had I not trusted him.

  Lifting me back up, I lowered my feet to the floor, on my toes, then Vitaly released me. “Well done. Keep your core a little tighter when you’re lifted… it will help.”

  I nodded and took my place back at the barre.

  “You looked amazing.”

  I turned to the sound of the whisper and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I’m Remi.”

  “Grace.”

  “Are you part of the company?”

  I nodded. “As of Monday, I’m an apprentice.”

  “Me too,” she said. “I’m so nervous.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “You,” Vitaly said, this time pointing to Remi.

  “Oh my god,” she breathed out, and walked toward Vitaly.

  “I’m going to do same as with Grace,” he said, and pulled her into position.

  I held my breath as he dropped her into a fish dive and she reached for the floor. Crap. She didn’t trust him.

  Vitaly righted her and set her on her feet. “You need to work on that. You must learn to trust partner, or you will get hurt.”

  “Yes. Okay,” she said, and rushed back to me. “Shit.”

  “You did great,” I assured her. “You just need to hold your core tighter. It’ll keep you from pitching forward.”

  “We should work out together,” she said.

  I nodded as I continued to watch Vitaly. “We’ll coordinate schedules.”

  All too soon, class was over, and we were directed to gather our things. I sat on the floor and removed my toe shoes, pulling on sweats and sneakers, and dragging a sweatshirt over my head.

  Remi walked with me toward the door, but Vitaly stopped us. “Grace, can you stay for a bit?”

  “Ah, sure.”

  I smiled at Remi and she walked out while I stood with Vitaly and waited for the room to clear.

  “You are beautiful dancer, Grace.”

  I beamed. “Thank you. Coming from you, that means a lot
.”

  “I would like to work with you.”

  “I would be honored.”

  “Good. We’ll speak on Monday.”

  “Okay.” I left the class feeling six-feet-tall and that feeling got better when I found Flea waiting for me in the hallway. “Hi.”

  “Hey, baby.” He grinned, taking my bag and leaning down to kiss me. “How was class?”

  “It was good. Did you watch?”

  He shook his head. “Just got here.”

  “Vitaly is one of the visiting principals and he says I’m a beautiful dancer and he wants to work with me,” I said, my breath coming in excited bursts. “Do you know how huge that is?”

  He grinned. “Sounds pretty fuckin’ huge.”

  I bit my lip. “Sorry. I’m boring you.”

  “Baby, you’re not,” he countered, sliding his arm around me as we walked to my car. “I love hearing you happy.”

  “How was church?”

  “Good,” he said, holding my car door open for me.

  “Any updates on Hatch?” I asked as I slid inside.

  He shook his head and made his way to the driver’s seat.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” I asked.

  He sighed and started my car. “No fuckin’ clue.”

  “Thanks for picking me up,” I said, changing the subject.

  He took my hand. “You’re welcome.”

  “Who dropped you off?”

  “Preacher.”

  “Thank him for me.”

  Flea chuckled. “Don’t need to thank him, baby. He lives a couple miles from here.”

  I shrugged. “It was still nice of him to drop you off.”

  He just smiled and squeezed my hand. We drove in comfortable silence and I found myself drifting a little.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Hm?”

  “Food. Do you want food?” he asked.

  “Yes. Absolutely. Somewhere I can get chicken, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  We drove through a Salmon Creek drive thru, then headed to Grams’. A truck was parked in her driveway, but it didn’t belong to my brother or my dad. “Who’s here?”

  “Flick.”

  “Why?”

  “Your dad couldn’t stay, and Finch was with us.”

  “Flea, she can’t be left with someone she doesn’t know,” I ground out. “She’s got personal stuff going on.”

 

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