by Arianna Hart
“It’s not just that. Even if a cop or a doctor can’t tell their significant other about their day, they can at least share some of the things that happened in the past. SEALs can’t. Ever. Some women resent being cut off from such a big part of your life.”
“Some women, or Chastity?” Ellie climbed out of bed and grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet in the hall before going into the bathroom. She needed a minute to clear her head before she said something she’d regret. Grant was closing her out and she had to fight against the urge to argue with him.
In the bathroom, she cleaned herself up and splashed some water on her face, buying time for her emotions to get back under control. It wasn’t easy. They’d gone from making love—no, having sex—and feeling as close as two people could to Grant spouting divorce statistics. If this was his way of telling her that what they had was just physical, she got the message loud and clear.
Fine. She’d enjoy their time together while it lasted, and if she felt herself falling in love with him or trying to talk him into more than he was willing to give, she’d get out.
Right.
By the time Ellie got back in the room wrapped in a towel, Grant was already dressed.
“Ellie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about all that when we were still coming down from fantastic sex. I’m not usually that much of an ass.”
“Don’t worry about it. I understand what you were saying.” She slipped into her thong and then stepped into her dress. “Now, since your folks aren’t home, what do you say we check out your father’s personal financial files? Something is off with the papers we got from the store, and it’s going to drive me crazy if I can’t figure it out.”
“Mom and Dad should be gone for at least three more hours, so that will give us plenty of time. I want to see if I can get into their online banking as well. Mom had a bunch of bills stacked up and quite a few were stamped overdue.”
“That’s not right. I helped your dad get his bills on auto-pay. If he hasn’t changed his password, I should be able to get you into his account, no problem.” Ellie stopped as an uncomfortable thought hit her. “Should we maybe ask your mom first if she wants us messing in her business?”
“I did, and she wants to do it on her own. I won’t stop her from learning it, but I want to make sure Greg hasn’t drained the bank account to the point they’re going bankrupt.”
“Okay.” She still wasn’t sure what they were doing was ethical, but if there was a problem with money from the store, the sooner they found it, the better. “Let’s grab some brownies before we rifle through the files. Clandestine work makes me hungry.”
“Obviously, I’m going to have to work harder if sneaking a peek at files makes you hungrier than sex.”
“Sex makes me hungry too. But not for brownies.” She shot a smile at him and skipped downstairs. Let him think about that for a while.
Chapter Nineteen
Grant watched Ellie work, fascinated by the way she processed the pages of information so fast. He could practically see her brain firing on all cylinders as her fingers flew over the keyboard on the computer. She’d managed to find the problem with his mom’s bills in under ten minutes and was now searching for whatever it was that had her bean-counter instincts twitching.
Every once in a while, she’d open another folder from the filing cabinet and compare it to a spreadsheet on the computer. She scrolled through the numbers so quickly he couldn’t follow along. He’d given up after the first five minutes and contented himself with eating brownies and watching her work.
“When did you get your BiOM?” she asked after fifteen minutes of muttering.
“September. Why?”
“How did you pay for it? Isn’t there a waiting list years long if you want the military to pay for it?”
“Yeah, but I had money saved up so I didn’t go on that waiting list. I think Mom put my name on the regular one while I was still in the rehab hospital. My insurance paid for part of it and I paid for part of it and Mom and Dad helped out too. I still had to wait more than a year though. Why?”
“Because your father cashed out half his IRA in August.”
“How much money is that?”
“After taxes, he got about sixty thousand. There’s a receipt here for a cashier’s check made out to iWalk for a hundred thousand.”
“Son of a bitch! My folks told me they only put in what I couldn’t cover. I put in thirty thousand, so that means insurance only covered ten grand. If I had known how much insurance wouldn’t cover, I would have waited for the military to pay for it.” Grant paced the tiny office, every click of his BiOM jabbing a knife of guilt through him. “Why would they lie to me?”
“Because you would have waited and they didn’t want you to have to wait when they had the means to help you.”
“But obviously, they didn’t have the fucking means, because they used their fucking retirement to pay for it. If Greg tanks the store, they’re fucked.”
“I think you could have gotten fuck in there one more time if you tried really hard.”
“This isn’t funny! My parents went broke just so I could have—”
“A better quality of life. Don’t you get it? That’s what parents do. They sacrifice for their children. And they didn’t go broke. They still have half of it left. Your folks are still young. They probably figured they had plenty of time to rebuild their retirement account. The business was doing well and your dad had plans to expand the Internet side before his stroke.”
“Then Greg took over and everything is going down the shitter.”
“No, it’s not. That’s what’s been bugging me. I was able to get into the store’s bank account from your father’s computer and the balance is healthy. Great even.”
“Bullshit. Didn’t Greg say things were slow so he had to let Anita go? Every time I’ve been in the store, it’s damn near empty. And Dave told me Greg’s lost a lot of other clients too. I’d be surprised if he’s sold so much as a spark plug. When I grabbed your starter, the shelves were full.”
“Exactly. He’s been buying parts like crazy, that’s what makes no sense. I can’t find the sales figures, but the deposits to the bank have been the same, if not better than when your father was there. Except none of the numbers match. I need to get back into the store and the warehouse. I know something is going on, but I just can’t get it. Even if the parts Greg bought were half the price of the regular supplier and he sold them at triple the regular price, there still shouldn’t be this much money in the account.”
“I think it’s time we cornered Greg and got some real answers. He’s put me off every time I’ve tried to talk to him about the store. Enough of this shit. Let’s go.”
“Right now? I need to adjust your parents’ tax return to account for cashing in the IRA. Your mom didn’t tell me about that when I was doing her quarterly taxes.”
“Later. I want to pin Greg down, and I need your brain to figure out if he’s dicking the numbers.” Focusing his anger on Greg instead of himself wasn’t fair, but he didn’t give a shit. It was easier to blame Greg for fucking up than it was to admit he’d been too self-centered to realize how much his own prosthesis cost. How fucking stupid was he? There was a reason the waiting list was so long for vets, because the things cost as much as a fucking house.
“Let me grab my laptop. I’ll meet you at my car.”
Grant waited until Ellie left before going to his room and grabbing his Ka-Bar. The knife had practically been part of his body when he was on the teams. It felt familiar and comfortable in his hand. He was licensed to carry a weapon in Georgia but no longer had a handgun. He didn’t know why he felt the need to arm himself, but he trusted his instincts.
The reasons why money was coming in when no product appeared to be going out couldn’t be legal. If someone was depositing money illegally into the store’s a
ccounts, they wanted something in return. Grant had no intention of giving it to them. Yeah, going in armed was a good idea.
He scrawled a note to his mom in case she got home before he did and went out to the driveway just as Ellie came down the stairs from her apartment. She’d changed into khaki cargo pants and a T-shirt, and he sighed, missing the sexy dress she’d worn earlier. The silky little number probably wasn’t appropriate for tromping around a warehouse, but it had showed off her legs like nobody’s business.
Down boy!
Shit, he was getting hard again already just remembering her stepping out of her dress wearing nothing but a hint of lace. His pulse pounded in his veins as he replayed the image. Someday he was going to lock her in the bedroom for hours and nothing was going to stop him from making love to her in every possible way.
If she gives you another chance after you pretty much told her she’d never have a real relationship with you. Oh, and bringing up divorce statistics while she was still naked, that was a stroke of genius, Romeo.
Grant shoved the words aside as he crossed the driveway to meet Ellie. For now, he could only solve one problem at a time, and his focus was the store. He’d worry about confronting his parents and his mom’s matchmaking after he fixed the issue with Greg.
Coward. It’s easier to focus on an enemy than confront your emotions about your folks or Ellie.
“Are you ready? You look like you’re miles away,” Ellie asked as she joined him.
“Just thinking ten steps ahead, that’s all. Come on, I want to go through the warehouse before we talk to Greg, and I don’t know how long he’ll be in the store.”
“You got it. I have some ideas about what could be happening with the money, but none of them are good.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” Grant said.
“Damn. I was kind of hoping you’d have a nice, neat legal reason for me.”
“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re being naïve.”
“Amazons are not cute. Get in the car.”
“Yes, ma’am. I like it when you’re demanding. It’s sexy. Can Amazons be sexy?”
“I guess that depends on whether you like delicate little china dolls or not.”
“Not, definitely not.”
Ellie could feel the tension pouring off Grant as they drove across town from the warehouse. What they’d found there only brought up more questions instead of answering any they already had. Their storage area in the warehouse had nothing in it. It was like Greg had sold off all the inventory and never replaced it. There was no way he could have gone through that much in only six weeks. And what about all the parts he’d supposedly ordered from Mexico? And the storage pod in the back of the store?
Whatever Greg was doing, it wasn’t good, and Ellie had a sinking feeling in her gut that when they got the answers they were looking for, the Andersons were going to be in a heap of trouble.
“When we get to the store, I want you to let me go in first. I’m going to go in through the back door and corner Greg in the office.”
“Do you know if he’s even at the store?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to call his cell and see?”
“No, I don’t want to give the asshole any warning that the hammer is about to drop.” He let out a stream of curses that practically sizzled in the air. “That fucking bastard is destroying everything my father—hell, his father too—worked for their entire lives. If he got them involved in something that ruins their name, their lives, I’ll fucking kill him.”
He slammed his fist on the dashboard and Ellie flinched. Immediately, she regretted her action as Grant looked like she’d slapped him. He took a deep breath and then another.
“I’m sorry. I never used to lose my temper.”
“Under the circumstances, I think you’re justified.”
“Not if it scares you.” He paused as if collecting his thoughts. “Part of my training included remaining clearheaded even when everything was going to hell around you. Ever since my injury, I’ve had to fight not to lose my temper at the least provocation.”
“From what I’ve read about PTSD and recovery, that isn’t unusual. The fact you recognize it and can control it is a positive.”
“That’s what my buddy Xavier from the Wounded Warrior Project told me too. Doesn’t make it any easier when I get so pissed off I scare you.”
“You expect too much of yourself. You’re only human, not some robot.”
“No, but I’m—I was successful in both my career and my life. I don’t enjoy failing.”
“Losing your temper when a rat bastard is singlehandedly destroying your family’s business isn’t failing. It’s normal.” Ellie felt herself getting a little heated. Why did he feel like he had to be Superman? “I know you may find this hard to believe after spending years in the military, but the rest of the world doesn’t expect you to be perfect. In fact, it makes us feel inadequate when you’re all super controlled and the rest of us are ready to spit nails. So knock it off. If you’re pissed, be pissed and don’t apologize for it. I’d rather have you swearing a blue streak than sitting over there like a volcano ready to erupt at any second. And if I jump because you pounded the dashboard, that’s on me, not you, so suck it up, buttercup.”
Ellie took the corner a little too fast and Grant thumped against the door. She was about to apologize but stopped when she realized he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.
“What’s so funny?”
“Y-you. ‘Suck it up, buttercup’?”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.”
He laughed even harder, which didn’t amuse her.
“A minute ago you were so angry you almost smashed a hole in my dashboard, now you’re laughing like a hyena? Does the word manic mean anything to you?”
That set him off again, and it was at least another two traffic lights before he got himself under control.
“I’m sorry. It’s not what you said that made me laugh. Everything you said is true. It’s just hearing you say—” He burst out with another spate of laughter. “W-what you said with your sweet little voice that made it so funny.”
“I think you’re going a little overboard.” Her tone made ice cubes sound cozy.
“I’m sorry. Really. I’m over it,” he said, but every few seconds she saw his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
She pushed his amusement out of her mind as the store came into view. The lights were off even though it was only four in the afternoon. A bad feeling settled in her stomach, and she suddenly wanted to turn the car around and be anywhere but here.
“Pull around back,” Grant directed, all laughter forgotten. “Stay in the car until I give the all clear.”
“Be careful. I have a bad feeling.”
“Leave the car running but lock the doors.”
Ellie clutched the steering wheel and watched as Grant headed to the back door. He reached into the waistband of his pants and crouched low before slipping through the door. Something glinted in his hand, and she didn’t think it was the keys. Was that a knife? Her heart was in her throat as the seconds ticked by.
“He’s just going to talk to Greg. It’s no big deal,” she told herself, trying to ease the anxiety that gripped her. She was wound so tightly that when Grant stuck his head out, she jumped and accidently hit the horn.
Grant waved her in and Ellie shut the car off quickly.
“Call 9-1-1. Tell them to send an ambulance and the police. Greg’s unconscious and bleeding,” he told her as soon as she was in earshot. His voice was calm, showing no hint of the panic she was feeling at hearing his words. “I’m going to try to stop the bleeding. Do you have a tampon?”
For a second, her mind went blank, wondering why he thought Greg had his period, then she remembered reading something about tamp
ons being used for trauma dressings. “Hold on, I have some in my car.”
She hurried to the trunk and fumbled around until she found the right key to get it open. She had an emergency bag of feminine supplies in case she got caught unprepared. Her periods were so irregular, it wasn’t uncommon for her monthly to come days after or before she expected it. She grabbed the first aid kit as well but wasn’t sure how much good it would do.
“Here, there’s tampons and my first aid kit. I don’t know what you need.”
“This will do,” he said and pulled on the latex gloves from the kit. “Go around front so you can direct the ambulance back here.”
Crap! She hadn’t called 9-1-1 yet. She dialed the number as she rushed around the building. There was no way she was going through the store as she really didn’t want to see what Grant was so carefully shielding her from with his body. If he thought she shouldn’t go into the office, she’d trust him.
The dispatcher asked her endless questions, most of which she couldn’t answer, before advising her to stay on the line in case the ambulance personnel needed directing. Ellie’s mind raced as she tried to imagine what was happening in the office. Who would hurt Greg? Was he beaten? Shot? Stabbed? All Grant had said was he was unconscious and bleeding. That could mean anything. Maybe he’d tripped and hit his head on the corner of the desk?
Somehow she didn’t think Grant would have told her to send for the police for an accident. It felt like eons before she heard the sirens and saw the flashing lights of first the police car and then the ambulance. She pointed them to the back alley and followed closely behind.
Grant leaned out the office door and waved them inside. His gloved hand was covered with blood and there were dark red splotches on his T-shirt. Ellie’s head swam and she felt lightheaded.
You absolutely will not faint. Breathe, you idiot.
She crossed carefully behind the police cruiser and made her way to her car. If she was going to pass out, she wanted to at least be sitting first. Watching the scene through the windshield created a little bit of mental distance and she felt the grayness receding. Grant clearly had the situation under control. He stepped out of the way so the EMTs could get into the tiny office and went over to the police officer.