by Evelyn Glass
His fingers tighten around the cellphone, and he feels like he could crush it into a million pieces with the force of his anger. He feels a steadying hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to keep a level head, reminding him that flying off the handle won’t help him or Adriana. But the sound of her cry of pain has stoked the fire already burning in his core. It’s awoken memories of another woman, his mother, crying out as another man, his father, put his hands on her, hitting her, hurting her, and making her whimper and weep. Morrison is no different to his father; he is a bully and a sadist. He likes to hurt people—emotionally or physically—in any way he can get to them.
Grayson shakes his head at how naïve he had been about Morrison. When they’d first met, he’d thought that Morrison wanted to take care of him, to look after him like the father he’d always wanted but never had. But very quickly it had become clear that Morrison only looked out for one person and that was himself. Grayson had come to the realization a little later than he should have because he’d put so much faith in the man who promised to make him something more than he was.
“If you touch her again then the deal is off. You can be certain of that, Morrison.” Grayson’s voice is low and full of menace. There’s no doubt in Grayson’s mind that if Morrison were standing in front of him that he would rip him limb from limb with his bare hands. However, Morrison wasn’t standing in front of him; he was in the dark basement that Adriana hadn’t had time to describe. She’d done what she could to give them some clue as to where she was, clever girl. He can’t help but smile in admiration of her. She’s a fighter. She’d told him that she was tough. If there was any doubt about that, it had been erased when she sent the message to Grayson—even though she knew that it would end badly for her.
“Kid, may I remind you that you’re not in a position to make threats?” Morrison is breathing hard, probably from the exertion of the slap that he’d just dealt Adriana. The realization of that makes Grayson want to hurt him, badly. “I’m the one calling the shots here, not you. I’m the one who’s important, not you.”
Grayson sees the look that Tommy and West exchange as that phrase reaches them from the speakerphone. They both clearly think that they’re dealing with a man who has some serious issues; they’re not wrong. He just also happens to be the man who has the person whom he cares most about in the world, which makes him less ridiculous and far more frightening.
“I’m not threatening, Morris. But I know that you don’t want to hurt Adriana, not really. You just want what you want.” Grayson’s attempt to be reasonable is shot down.
“If you think for one second that I won’t make good on what I told you I would do, then you’re in for a rude awakening, my friend.” Morrison’s cackles a dry laugh. “Shall I tell you exactly what will happen to your lovely Ms. Garza if you don’t deliver the goods? Shall I go into detail about what my colleague Mr. Elliott will do to her, inside and out?” Grayson can almost hear Morrison smiling at the end of the line, and it sets his teeth on edge.
“No, Morrison. I don’t need to hear that. I’m well aware of the stakes.” Grayson tries to breathe deeply, centering himself again, taking his focus away from Morrison and the awful things that Grayson knows he’s desperate to tell him.
“I really wouldn’t want to do anything to mar that beautiful face of hers, but that all depends on you.” Morrison sounds like he’s enjoying taunting him. That is just the kind of sick fuck that he is. “It’s so sad that our dear girl doesn’t have any living relatives, no one to report her missing. You know it’s incredible how easy it is to make someone go away, especially when they don’t have any family. Poof, they just disappear. Think about that, Grayson. Now, it’s late. You should get some rest. It’s only a couple of days until the big fight after all, and you need to be at your best. Kid, remember our deal.”
As Morrison ends the call, Grayson is left staring at the cell in his hand as if it were a live snake.
“Fuck.” Tommy breathes the word out as if it were an entire sentence, moved by what he’s just heard.
“She’s alright, Grayson.” West’s hand is on his shoulder, settling him and comforting him, but Grayson can’t find any comfort there, not this time.
“Alright? That son of a bitch hit her, West! He fucking hurt her.” Grayson shakes his head like he’s trying to get the sound of the slap out of his head.
“He did it so that you would hear it, son. He was making a point.” West rubs at his temple and the headache which probably hasn’t gotten any better.
“Well, he made it, loud and clear.” Grayson is distraught; he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to scream and punch something and drink until he can’t see straight, but none of those things are going to get Adriana back.
“Did you hear what she said, G? She used the time she had to send you a message. She doesn’t want you to throw this fight, not for her.” Tommy crosses his arms, watching Grayson’s reaction.
Grayson clenches and unclenches his fists. He knows that his friend is right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
“And she gave us a clue, a better idea of where she is. She’s a smart girl and she’s got a set of brass balls on her.” West’s tone shows how impressed he is with Adriana and her presence of mind and bravery.
“She’s one of a kind.” Grayson smiles for what feels like the first time in weeks, as he thinks about how proud he is of her. She risked whatever Morrison was going to do to her to tell them something. He couldn’t let her down. The knowledge gives him a laser-like resolve and focus. He knows what it is that he needs to do. “We have to figure out where Morrison is holding Adriana.” The determination in his voice is clear. Plus, the look that Tommy and West exchange makes clear their relief at his decision. “It’s not a lot of information, but she gave us something to go on.”
The sound of a door banging open makes all three of them jump, their heads turning in unison towards the entrance of the gym. Grayson automatically puts himself into fight mode, rising up onto the balls of his feet, ready to strike if he has to. However, as the mystery intruder stalks towards them, he stands down, a little relieved, until she opens her mouth.
“Where the hell is she, Fletcher?” Willow starts prodding him in the chest with her index finger in a way that has become entirely her own. The expression on her face is somewhere between anger and fear. He knows it well. It’s how he’s been living since he found Adriana’s smashed cellphone and the note from Morrison.
“Willow, I need you to calm down.” Grayson talks to her in the same tone he would a frightened animal, but it doesn’t have the desired effect. If anything, it swings the other way.
“Calm down? Are you kidding me? Did you seriously just ask me to calm down when my best friend is missing?” Willow is hysterical, her eyes flashing. Her breath is so shallow Grayson wonders if she might be about to pass out.
“I know how you feel. But if you really want to help Adriana, then I’m going to need you to take a few breaths.” Grayson makes calming gestures with his hands, watching her warily as she surprises him by taking his advice.
It’s at that moment that she takes in where she is and the fact that she and Grayson aren’t alone. He wonders if he’s imagining the blush that crosses her cheeks when her eyes land on Tommy.
“Sorry guys, I guess I’m just a little outside of my comfort zone. My best friend doesn’t disappear every day.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, but Grayson can see from her shaking hands that it’s just a front.
“You don’t have to apologize here.” West gives her a fatherly side hug, and she looks up at him so gratefully it’s hard to reconcile this person with the one who just burst into the room, almost throwing the door off of its hinges. “I’ll get you some water while the boys fill you in.” He disappears off towards his office, leaving the three of them standing awkwardly together.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Willow looks between Grayson and Tommy, not needing a response from them apart from wh
at’s already written all over their faces. “I knew it. I friggin’ knew it! She was supposed to call me this morning. Then, I called the hospital, and they said she hadn’t shown for work and hadn’t called in sick. That’s not Adriana. I don’t think she’s ever missed a day of work in her life!” She passes a shaking hand over her eyes, pulling herself together. “It didn’t take much to figure out that whatever’s happened to her has something to do with you.” She fires an accusatory look at Grayson, and it hits home like a poison-tipped arrow.
“Easy, Willow.” Tommy’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder, and she visibly relaxes. “Grayson isn’t the enemy here. He didn’t take Adriana.”
“Then who did?” She looks up at him, miserably, her bottom lip trembling as if she’s about to cry. “Is she alright? Please can someone just tell me that she’s okay?”
“We’ve just spoken to her. She’s fine.” The lie tastes bad in Grayson’s mouth, but there’s no reason to make Willow any more worried than she evidently already is.
“Well, where the hell is she? What’s going on, Fletcher? What have you got her mixed up in?” Willow’s impression of a lioness protecting her cubs is a pretty good one, and Grayson finds himself unable to avoid a grudging respect for her. Anyone that cares about Adriana as much as she does is someone whom he can get on board with.
“We’ll get into that, but first we need to figure out where she’s been taken.” Grayson holds up a hand to stop her from interrupting him. Every minute they waste is another minute that Adriana has to spend with Morrison, and he has no intention of extending that any further than necessary. “You’re in PR, right? You must know this city better than any of us.”
“So what do we know?” She looks between the two men, the epitome of cool professionalism, and Grayson can’t help but appreciate that she’s willing to put explanations aside for now.
“Tommy will fill you in on the way.” Grayson turns towards his friend, looking at him meaningfully. “Call me every half hour. I want to know everything.”
“On the way to where? Where are we going?” Willow plants her hands on her hips, looking confused and clearly not enjoying being left out of the loop.
“You’re going to start looking at places near Adriana’s place and moving outward from there. Morrison can’t have risked taking her that far. Besides, if I know him, he’ll want to be close by to keep tabs on me.” Grayson looks at them, waiting for them to move into action. “Are you guys waiting for a formal invitation? Let’s go!”
Tommy nods quickly and takes Willow’s arm, starting to lead her out of the gym. She twists in his arm, looking back at Grayson and lifting a threatening finger. “If anything happens to her…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence.
“Trust me, Willow. If anything happens to her, there won’t be anything that you can do to me that I won’t want to do to myself a hundred times over.” Grayson’s sincerity seems to catch her off-guard, but her mask of control is back in place in no time.
“As long as that’s clear.” She turns on her heel, twisting out of Tommy’s grasp and marching towards the exit.
Tommy gives Grayson a look over his shoulder that speaks volumes before hustling to catch up with her.
“I’m coming, Adrie. Hold on, I’m coming.” Grayson says the words under his breath, and it’s the closest thing to a prayer that he’s spoken in a long time. He stopped believing in miracles after years of his father’s abuse. However, if there was ever a time to have some faith, it was now.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
ADRIANA
She must be asleep. This must be a dream. It’s not possible for Grayson to be here. She peers through the darkness, making out his unmistakable shape coming towards her. She reaches out to him and her wrists aren’t bound anymore, she can move freely. She scrambles to her feet, rushing towards him, and he catches her in his arms.
“Grayson.” She barely manages to get his name out before his mouth is on hers, claiming her, possessing her. She melts into him, feeling the strength of his body against hers, letting his warmth seep into her and chase the cold of the damp, dark basement away.
She pushes herself up against him, pressing her chest against his, feeling her nipples grow hard and sensitive. He runs his fingers along her cheeks, tracing a line down towards her mouth, touching her in a way that only he knows how.
“Adrie…I love you, Adrie.” He feathers kisses over her mouth, and she feels her knees go weak at the contact. He lets his hands drift down over her body, towards the heat that is blooming between her thighs.
“I need you, Grayson.” She breathes the words out, letting herself go as he touches her. For a few delicious seconds, nothing exists outside of them. They are the center of everything and nothing else matters. “How did you find me?”
Grayson looks at her in the way that makes her heart beat out of her chest. His eyes are tender and soft, and she feels like she could fall into them. “I’ll always find you, Adrie. Always. We’re supposed to be together; we’re soulmates.”
She bites her bottom lip, tears springing into her eyes at his words. She’s about to respond when a blinding light turns on overhead. She blinks against it, seeing spots, as her eyes slowly acclimate to the light. That’s when she looks around and finds that she’s alone.
There’s no Grayson. He hasn’t come to save her. He hasn’t found her. It had been a dream. She feels the tears spill out over her eyes. It is one thing for Morrison to torture her and punish her, but it is another for her own mind and body to betray her. Having Grayson in front of her and then losing him again—when she needs him most—is almost worse than missing him.
The unmistakable sound of the door being unlocked breaks through her depressing thoughts, and she gets to her feet as best she can with her wrists still tied together. She expects Morrison to come bursting through the door, with some new story about Grayson that he wants to tell her to make her question everything she thinks she knows about him.
However, it’s not Morrison that makes his way down the stairs. It’s his goon; the man that he’d called Mr. Elliott. She remains rigid, wondering what he has in store for her now. The way he looks at her, like she’s a piece of meat, makes her uncomfortable and without the calming influence of Morrison, she doesn’t know what he might do.
He grunts at her, nodding towards the table where Morrison had been seated during their little tête-à-tête. That’s when she sees that he’s carrying a tray of something that smells like food. Her stomach grumbles, chasing away any thought she might have had of refusing the food. She has no idea how much time has passed; but, if her hunger and thirst are anything to go by, it’s been at least twenty-four hours.
He puts the tray down and steps away, watching her the entire time. Adriana moves forward, her legs carrying her despite her brain telling them that she doesn’t want to get any closer to this man than she has to. However, her basic instincts have taken over. She needs to keep her strength up, and right now, she feels like a stiff wind might blow her over.
She grabs the glass of water, drinking it down in a few greedy gulps. The plain bread sitting on the plate looks like the best thing she’s ever eaten, and she rips off a piece, stuffing it into her mouth as if she hasn’t eaten in weeks.
“Thank you.” She nods towards the big man, who is still watching her like a hawk. Perhaps he’s just following orders, she thinks. This is the first act of kindness that I’ve been shown since I was brought to this place, and it’s come from him. Perhaps he can help me.
“You don’t have to do this, you know?” She looks up at him, gauging his reaction to her; so far there is none. “If you let me out of here, I won’t say anything to the cops about you.” She studies his face for a flicker of recognition, for a sign that he’s actually hearing her, but there’s nothing. “You don’t even have to let me go; you can just get a message to Grayson and tell him where I am.” He remains still, looking at her with that unfazed expression of his. “You don’t have to do
this.”
Mr. Elliott doesn’t respond; it doesn’t even look as if he’s blinking. Talking to him is like talking to a brick wall, except a brick wall seems more dynamic.
“You could let me go. You don’t have to do what Morrison tells you. You can think for yourself.” She tries not to sound so desperate, trying to moderate her tone so it sounds encouraging. It’s the same voice that she uses when she talks to kids who are scared before their operations.
As the silence stretches out between them, she feels her frustration building. “Answer me.” He just stares at her. “Say something!”
Eventually, he smiles at her, but there’s no warmth in it. It’s the kind of smile that a predator might give to its prey when he knows that there’s no way of escape. “No.” In that one word, he crashes any hopes that she had of him helping her.