Saving Grace (Misty Grove Book 2)

by Paige, Victoria

They all either turned or looked up when they heard my footsteps.

  My eyes were focused on Troy as I walked purposely toward him. There was a spark of confusion in his eyes just as I closed the last speck of distance between us and pressed my body against his, tilting my chin up to him. The biker’s arms closed around me just as my own circled his neck and I brought his head down to mine. I kissed him hard, and he returned my enthusiasm in kind. Troy was a good kisser, but, unfortunately, he didn’t set my insides on fire. I had my answer.

  I ended the kiss and stepped back.

  “What the fuck was that?” Matt’s angry outburst sounded very close behind me.

  A shadow of disappointment crossed Troy’s face but was quickly replaced by a self-deprecating smile. “Welcome back, darlin’.”

  Strong fingers clamped down on my arm and I was dragged against a hard body before I was spun around.

  “You better have a good explanation for kissing Troy,” Matt growled, his lips curled back in such a snarl, he looked almost feral.

  “Unfinished business,” I replied, unafraid of his fury, but strangely excited by the sheer possessive energy radiating off him.

  “She got her memory back,” Troy added.

  This time it was Matt’s eyes that were confused. “What?”

  “You’ve rendered him speechless, sweetheart,” the biker smirked.

  Matt glared at him over the top of my head. “Shut the fuck up, Troy.”

  “I promised Troy I’d give him a chance if and when I got back into town,” I explained.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “There’s no need for that, knucklehead,” Troy chided. “She rejected me. For someone who’s used to having every single cunt dropping their panties at the sight of him, you’re pretty dense when it comes to Grace.”

  There was a clearing of the throat reminding them that they had an audience.

  “I’ll explain later,” I told Matt. Somehow that didn’t appease him, and I believed if we hadn’t have had direr matters to discuss, he would have hauled me into the bedroom to have it out with me. I felt a shiver of anticipation snake up my spine as warmth pooled between my legs.

  “So,” Trent asked tentatively. “You have your memory back, Grace?”

  “Mostly, but there are pockets of missing pieces,” I exhaled deeply. “Unfortunately, the time between my arrival at the airport and the time I woke up from the bombing is blank.”

  “The FBI and Homeland Security are still investigating the terrorist attack,” Trent said. “There are rumors that the ISIS sect that carried out the bombing was being backed by a Mexican cartel.”

  “It’s highly probable,” I said. “It’s no secret that ISIS is diversifying its sources for funding, and aside from oil, heroin from Afghanistan is their next biggest asset. It’s a one billion-dollar industry for them alone.”

  “But don’t they trade with the Russians and Albanians for the European market?”

  “For arms trafficking, yes,” I replied. “However, with the market for marijuana dwindling in the U.S. with new laws legalizing its use and production, Mexican cartels are looking for an alternate, yet lucrative, product to fill the void.”

  “What the cartel can offer ISIS is entry into the U.S.” Troy said. “Either from our southern border or Canada which is where most of the heroin arrives from Afghanistan.”

  “This is all well and good,” Matt cut in. “What I want to know is why The Reaper is after Grace. We know that she was involved in the arrest of Hector Vargas, but why not go after Elliot Holden who was the architect of the entire takedown?”

  “He knows we got hold of the accountant, Antonio Escobar,” I said. “I was supposed to meet him at Atlanta airport. He was on a Jericho Airlines flight from Dallas.” Glancing at Troy, I continued. “I’m not sure what happened to Escobar. I don’t think the man who died beside me was him.”

  Trent nodded. “I followed up with the Feds about what you told me and turned up a crucial piece of information that connected the Mexican cartel to the bombing. The man who died beside you was a member of the Carillo Cartel’s death squad. The Reaper works independently of them though.”

  “Wait a minute. Were you not getting on that plane?” Matt asked.

  “No. That was to misdirect Elliot.”

  “Elliot doesn’t know of the deal you struck with the accountant?” Cassie asked, looking at me intently.

  I exchanged a glance with Troy, who nodded.

  “This doesn’t leave this room,” I warned. “The accountant reached out to Troy. Escobar wanted out. He had a list of the cartel’s major distributors and money launderers here in the U.S. and I’m not talking about low-level drug dealers.”

  “Why not reach out to Holden or the DEA itself?” the sheriff asked.

  My grim smile spoke volumes. Matt and the sheriff swore viciously.

  “Holden is on the list,” Matt guessed correctly and then glared at Troy. “I guess you’re on it too, but the accountant figured he could trust you.”

  “There are other government officials on the list. Most of them connected with the DEA and the FBI.”

  “Is the info on a flash drive?”

  “If it is, it’s not with me,” I admitted with a hint of frustration. I had searched through my purse and had only found one thing that didn’t look familiar. “I found this key.” I held up the object for everyone to see. “In meet-ups like this, I prefer not to write down the details, but memorize the information.”

  “Oh, the irony,” Lucas murmured.

  “The joke’s on me,” I muttered. “Until my missing memory returns, this key is useless.”

  “But what happened to the accountant?”

  “We were supposed to leave the airport separately after he gave me what I needed. He was to get on a Jericho flight to Tennessee to the safe house where two of Troy’s men were supposed to meet him.”

  “My crew was killed,” Troy said. “I knew this was the case when they never checked in. I went to Tennessee to bring their bodies back.” He closed his eyes as if pained by the memory. “Then I spent the next few weeks trying to find a clue as to what had happened.”

  “I think The Reaper has Escobar or he’s already dead,” I concluded. “That The Reaper is focusing his attention on me tells me I’m the last loose end that could bring down the cartel.”

  “You’ve made yourself the cartel’s number one enemy,” Matt growled. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “This is bigger than me and a lot more complicated. The information I have in my hands can be used as evidence in the prosecution of Hector Vargas. We’re not sure where the loyalty of the current cartel leadership lies. My gut tells me they’d like to see Vargas rot in prison and assume total autonomy in running the organization. However, if their distribution network is disrupted, it would take a big chunk out of their profits.”

  “But not necessarily cripple the organization,” Troy countered. “We’ve discussed this, Grace. For every prosecuted narco-dealer, five more would crop up. With heroin becoming the drug of choice, the landscape is changing. The cartel might be willing to give up their current distributors to form new alliances. That way there won’t be a question of loyalty.”

  “They let the accountant get away on purpose?” Trent asked.

  “It’s probable,” Troy replied.

  “The Reaper is loyal to Hector. The hitman was definitely involved in the airport bombing because I heard my captors mention his name. And yet, there were four ambulances missing. Do you know if those have been located, Trent?”

  “I haven’t kept up with the details of the investigation,” the sheriff replied. He scribbled on his notepad. “I’ll do it as soon as I get back to the office. What do you suspect?”

  “There has to be more than the interception of the accountant to warrant such a plan,” I speculated. “I’m thinking it was meant as a diversion for something bigger. And I’m having a gut feeling that Elliot knows something.”

&nbs
p; “He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you were flying back that Monday,” Troy reminded her.

  “But he didn’t argue for long.”

  “Meaning he wanted you to get caught in the crossfire?” Matt inferred incredulously.

  God, that hurt. I had known Elliot a long time—even my mom liked him. However, we started butting heads after the capture of Hector Vargas. I could never forgive him or myself for leaving Matt behind to be tortured. The SEALs were given orders to physically remove me from our Loreto house if I refused to leave. I had been kept in isolation until the whole op was done and Vargas was in custody. But my nightmare had only begun because Matt had been taken. It tore me up inside that he wouldn’t take my calls and believed that I had abandoned him in that hell hole. My suspicions of Elliot’s involvement in the rise of the new cartel leadership were strong, but I had no proof until Troy and the accountant confirmed it. It became more imperative that Matt knew the truth, my job be damned. So I told him everything in that dark parking lot of Mike’s Roadhouse. He didn’t seem surprised, nor did we suddenly become long lost buddies either. There was a tension that continued to brew between us, until a couple of nights later when we combusted. The sex had been scorching hot and tinged with a desperation to get under each other’s skin. It was a wonder we didn’t tear up the motel room. The morning after though …

  “Grace?” Matt’s worried voice brought me out of my momentary flashback.

  I rubbed my temples with the pad of two fingers. “Sorry. I remembered less than pleasant memories and it somehow sucked me in.”

  “The neuro said that would happen,” Matt reminded gently. “Maybe we should continue this some other time?”

  “I’m really fine,” I said, almost snapping, but managing to blunt the edge of my tone. “But I can’t think of any more info that may be of use at the moment.”

  “My deputy is following up with the shop where The Reaper bought the flowers,” Trent said. “From what we know so far, he paid cash. The clerk is at the station right now with our sketch artist for a composite. There’s no surveillance inside the shop, but the parking lot of the strip mall where the shop is located does. My man is reviewing the footage right now.”

  “If he’d been able to hire out my abduction, I doubt The Reaper would have gone into the flower shop himself,” I pointed out.

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Trent said. “But that’s the only lead we have.”

  “How often does Elliot contact you nowadays?” Troy asked.

  “Once a week.”

  “Are you going to tell him you got your memory back?”

  I nodded. “I will—”

  “Wait a goddamned minute, Grace,” Matt cut in.

  “I will”— I repeated firmly— “tell him as soon as I figure out the different scenarios that may play out.”

  “Didn’t you just say he’s on the accountant’s list? That he’s dirty?”

  “I need my access to the DEA database.”

  “What if he’s in league with The Reaper?” Matt argued. “Even if he isn’t, don’t you think we have enough problems keeping you safe from the cartel’s assassin? We don’t need Holden plotting your murder as well.”

  “I need the DEA files on El Segador.”

  “How will that help? Are you telling me you’re going after him?”

  “If I have to, yes! I’m not about to be a sitting duck waiting for him to strike.”

  “Are you forgetting you’re pregnant?” Matt yelled.

  “What does that have to do with it?” I challenged. “I’m as healthy as an ox according to the doctor. I haven’t even gotten morning sickness yet. I’d rather be done with this cartel or Reaper problem before I’m as big as a hippo seeing that there’s a possibility I’ll be carrying twins, no thanks to you!”

  A deathly silence followed my rant, since I realized I had raised my voice as well. Matt had to go and rile me up.

  I returned his incinerating glare with one of my own. With my memory bank almost at one hundred percent, I was done with being scared. I was done with hiding. I was a DEA agent who had successfully infiltrated and taken down European mobs. The Mexican cartel was a different beast, but it all boiled down to how bad one wanted to stop the influx of drugs into the homeland.

  “Everyone out,” Matt said in a low voice that did nothing to hide his fury. His face was flushed with anger, and all of it seemed to be directed at me.

  “Foster,” Trent called Matt’s attention as he moved to stand beside us.

  “This meeting is over,” Matt told Cassie’s husband.

  “I’ll follow up where the case is with the Feds,” Trent replied levelly, but I could hear the warning in his tone pressing on Matt to calm down. The sheriff split a look between us. “I trust everything is otherwise okay?”

  “We’re. Fine,” Matt enunciated, his jaw clenching.

  I lifted my chin, looking briefly at Trent before returning my eyes to Matt. “I’ll let you know if I remember anything else, Sheriff.”

  Trent sighed and clapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Later, Foster. Grace. Take it easy, both of you.”

  Everyone else muttered their goodbyes and the loft quickly emptied.

  Tension crackled between Matt and me, like a fuse had been lit under a powder keg about to set off a grand explosion.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Matt

  It took all of Matt’s self-control not to pounce on Grace the second the last person left his loft. He had a strong desire to wring her pretty neck, but there was an even stronger urge—overwhelming actually—to fuck the shit out of her. It didn’t help that Grace had the audacity to kiss Troy in front of him.

  In front of him! After he’d made it clear that she belonged to him.

  “I need one thing to be clear right now,” Matt grated, barely keeping from yelling at her.

  Grace didn’t say anything except stare at him straight on. His belief that he had things under control was fraying, and he started to panic. At some point during their rapidly deteriorating argument, she had moved away from him. That rattled the beast inside him.

  He needed to be near her. He needed to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, never letting her go.

  Matt forced his arms to stay at his sides. “Is it my understanding that you never slept with Troy?”

  “That is correct,” she answered succinctly.

  Damn her. She was going to make him pull every piece of information out of her.

  “Why the hell did you have to kiss him then?”

  “Troy knew what happened between you and me,” she said. “I had a meeting with him that morning you left me at the motel to finalize the details for our op on Monday. Let’s just say I wasn’t in my best frame of mind.”

  “If only I could have done things differently, Grace,” he said with every shard of remorse he was feeling.

  “What is done is done,” she shrugged. “He suggested using him in any way I wanted to get my pride back.”

  “HE WHAT?” Matt exploded.

  “Troy is very generous and a very attractive man,” her mouth twitched as Matt swore under his breath. “But, unfortunately, he’s not my type.”

  “Thank fuck,” he muttered. “I still don’t understand why you kissed him.”

  Grace laughed. “He was convinced I was just bruised from your rejection, and, given time, I would’ve realized he is very much my type.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “I was curious if he was right,” Grace said bemusedly, and her eyes lost focus for a moment. She better not be thinking of Troy and his outrageous proposition. “So, I told him if we ever crossed paths again, the first thing I would do is kiss him and see if he was right.”

  “Obviously, I’m still very much your only type,” Matt declared arrogantly.

  “You are so full of yourself.” Grace shook her head in exasperation.

  “Why didn’t you come back to me when I asked you in Millie’s office?”

&n
bsp; Grace lips curled sardonically. “Did I seem pathetic to you then, Matt? Did you think one orgasm would erase the way you humiliated me when you practically ran out of that motel?”

  “I apologized for that.”

  “And let’s not forget your hateful words at the Roadhouse.”

  “Grace, I—”

  “Yes, you apologized, but ‘sloppy seconds’ weren’t words I can simply forgive overnight.”

  “Do you forgive me now?” Matt asked, trying not to grind his molars.

  “After everything you’ve done for me these past few weeks”—Grace raised and lowered her right arm in a gesture of light exasperation—“it would be petty of me to hold a grudge against your prior jerkish behavior—”

  He took quick steps and yanked her into his arms.

  “—hey!” She yelped as he cleaved her body to his.

  “I hate that you’re standing so far away from me while we’re having this enlightening conversation,” he drawled.

  “Well, I’m uncomfortable being this close to you while you’re interrogating me.” She tried to arch away from him but that had the opposite effect of what she had intended.

  “Oh, babe,” he groaned. “You haven’t had a taste of my method of interrogation yet.”

  He was pleased to hear her breath catch, and the way her curves molded to his body flamed his already overheated flesh. His hardening cock reacted quite enthusiastically to the press against her belly.

  “This is not some freaking foreplay,” Grace scowled at him as she obviously felt his erection.

  “You’re sure about that, gypsy?” Matt chuckled. Having her back in his arms quelled his earlier agitation.

  “Let me go,” she snapped as she pushed against his chest.

  “Never,” he growled, suppressing her protests with a hard kiss. He bent his knees so he could scoop her up by her ass, bringing her level with him. Still kissing her, he walked them to his bedroom with her still plastered to his frame.

  He managed to open the door without releasing her. Lowering her to the floor, his hands immediately gripped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Big mistake, he had to let go of her mouth.