by Diana Gardin
But when we’re nearly there, I grasp her hand in mine and bring it to my lips. The feel of her soft, satiny skin against mine calms me. “You okay?”
She gives me a small smile. “Yeah. I worry about Mea.”
“Why?”
Sighing, she looks back toward the dark night beyond her window. “Because she pretends a lot. She’s been through a lot in her life; that’s why we instantly bonded when we met in college. I figured out pretty quick that she had some deep scars on her soul. But she never really lets anyone in. I’m worried that she’ll always be that way.”
I mull over what she just said. I’ve known Mea for a while, but only through Berkeley. I don’t really know anything about her, only that she and Berkeley went to high school together and then when she went to college she became good friends with Greta. She’s a little spitfire, and she’s absolutely beautiful, but I’ve never seen her with a guy.
“She dates a lot?”
Greta snorts. “More like, she uses guys and then tosses them away.”
Well, damn.
Greta rushes on. “I mean, I don’t fault her for it. She’s young and she’s single, and guys do it to girls all the time. I think when they meet Mea, she turns the tables, and they’re left wondering what the hell happened.” She laughs softly.
Thinking about that brings a smile to my face, too. “Don’t worry about her. She just hasn’t met the guy that makes her want more. She will.”
Greta turns to me, her face turning serious. “I did.”
My heart stutters once before picking up its regular beat. I pull up to a valet stand at a luxury hotel before bringing her hand to my lips again. This time I plant a trail of light kisses along her hand, her wrist, her forearm. The material of her dress doesn’t deter me from kissing her again and again.
“We’re going to have a great night.”
“The best,” she agrees as the valet opens her car door.
The event is set up as a meet and greet, and as we enter the executive gala room on the fifth floor of the hotel, a classically decorated atmosphere greets us. There are black-jacketed servers walking around with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. There are so many people in the room, milling around, laughing and joking, clinking glasses…but all I can see is Greta.
It’s obvious she’s unaware of her utter beauty. Of her ability to command attention in a room. As I scan the crowd around us, I observe that she’s caught the eye of several men around us. But she’s completely oblivious. Smiling to myself, I put my arm around her waist and pull her a little bit closer. Her dress swishes around her ankles, and that one exposed leg is bared.
God. How am I going to make it through this night without pulling her into the bathroom or out to my car and showing her exactly how fucking sexy I think she is?
Her azure eyes focus on me, and she tilts her head. “What are you thinking?”
My voice is rough as I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “You don’t want to know.”
She pulls back, shocked pleasure written on her face. “I think I know. Guess what?”
“What?”
She lets her eyes make a slow, simmering perusal of me in my fitted suit, from my messed-up hair to my black dress shoes. Then she makes her way back up, sliding a finger along the silk of my tie, moving up until she’s gently stroking my bottom lip.
She taps my mouth with her finger. “I’m thinking the exact same thing.”
Yeah. That’s it.
I grab her by the arm, steering her gently-but-firmly toward the door we just entered a few minutes ago.
“Hey, guys!”
Berkeley’s bright voice stops me in my tracks, and we turn slowly to face her and Dare. They’re both grinning at us, holding glasses of champagne. Berkeley looks great in a royal blue dress, and Dare’s rocking a black suit with no tie.
“Where were you headed?” asks Berkeley with a hint of suspicion in her tone.
Dare laughs outright, spotting the pained look on my face. “We need you here, brother.” He slaps me on my back. Then he leans in. “If I can handle it for a few hours, with Berkeley looking the way she does, so can you.”
I nod, but I still can’t keep my eyes off my date.
“Let me go introduce you to a couple of people. Then Jacob wants to see us before the big intro. Think you can handle leaving Greta with Berkeley for a while?”
I look toward Greta, thinking how badly I don’t want to leave her side tonight. But she nods toward Dare, urging me to go on without her.
“You’re here to work, too,” she reminds me. “I’ll be fine.”
I take another glance around the room, noting that she still has the attention of a lot of guys. And now that Berkeley is with her, they’re like magnets for men.
I look sternly at Berkeley. “Stay with her. You two watch out for each other.”
She salutes me. “Yes, sir.” She deepens her voice in jest, but she needs to know how serious I am. I don’t like leaving Greta alone in a room like this.
“Oh, chill, Grish.” Berkeley smiles and gives me a shove. “She’ll be fine. Geez.”
I follow Dare through the crowd, taking one last look at my gorgeous date standing like a dark angel in her bloodred dress.
“And I’d like you to give a warm welcome to the newest member of our team, Grisham Abbot.”
There’s a polite round of applause throughout the room, and as I stand on the small platform I listen to Jacob give a list of my accolades and accomplishments from my time in the naval academy, OTS, and being a SEAL. It feels surreal, having someone list all of the important things you’ve done.
I find Greta’s face in the crowd and lock onto her. Letting everything else fall away, I realize that I don’t care about how any of my credentials look on paper. All I care about is whether or not I’m a good enough man for her.
She smiles at me from her spot in the crowd and gives me a tiny nod. A pang of something sharp and sweet hits me in my gut like a punch.
She sees me. Through all the stuff that most people think are most important about me, she sees underneath all of that. To the real me.
As soon as Jacob’s done introducing me as part of the team, he goes on to outline some of the services Night Eagle can offer for potential clients. I’m already well versed in what the firm can do, and I zone out a little bit. I realize I’ve lost Greta in the crowd. I see Berkeley standing in the exact same spot she was before, but the place beside her where Greta was is empty. I frown, scanning the crowd.
No Greta.
Jacob’s speech drones on. He discusses Night Eagle’s growth, and the fact that the company is the most reliable private security firm out there. Just when I think he’s finished, he goes on to list, in great detail, every single service N.E. has to offer, and why potential clients should choose our firm over the competition. He skims over special government assignments N.E. has been a part of, or headed, and the sea of faces in front of me is more than impressed.
But right now, I don’t care about any of that. Because in the entire time Jacob has been speaking, Greta hasn’t reappeared in the crowd.
When Jacob’s speech is finally finished, we stand beside the podium to answer questions from potential clients. And then Jacob excuses us to “enjoy the night.”
I grab Dare by the arm as we’re released. He’s heading back to Berkeley.
“Hey. Have you seen Greta?”
He shakes his head, glancing at me. “She’s not with Berkeley?”
I shake my head, impatient. When we reach Berkeley, I immediately ask her the same question. I glance around us, but I still don’t see Greta.
“She went to powder her nose. Relax. She’s not walking out of here without you, silly.” Berkeley smiles at me, but I frown again.
“She’s been in the bathroom this entire time?” Doubt plagues me. I had to have been standing up there looking for her in the crowd for the past half hour.
Berkeley’s smile falters, and I see her eyes dart t
oward the exit. The restrooms are outside in the hallway.
“Hmm. It has been awhile…”
I take off, shoving servers out of my way to get to the exit door. Dare is right behind me.
“Talk to me, man. What do you think happened?”
Dare’s voice is calm, and I can tell he’s trying to pacify me.
He can’t pacify me in this situation. For some reason I can’t put my finger on, Greta not being visible is making me feel very uneasy. Droplets of sweat bead on my forehead and my pounding heartbeat is taking up residence in my throat.
“I don’t know. I just have a feeling…”
We burst into the hallway, and I look left and then right. There’s no sign of Greta, but there are a few guests lingering in the hall having conversations or walking to and from the restrooms. The restrooms are to my right, while the elevators and stairwell are to my left and down another hallway.
If this were any other situation, one where I weren’t looking for my girlfriend and worrying that something bad might have happened to her, my natural instincts and training would kick in. But right now, I can’t think straight.
Do I go left, or right?
I start in the direction of the restrooms when Dare grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him.
“Stop. Grisham, why do you have a feeling? You’re freaking out on me, man, and I need to know why.”
His gaze is intense, focused, and it causes my brain to snap into place and start to think rationally. I focus on him and take a deep breath.
“She’s been getting notes. I mean, she was. Awhile back.”
Dare frowns. “Notes?”
“Yeah…like secret admirer shit. Flowers and weird messages. Someone broke into her car to leave them. Someone broke into her desk at work. I don’t know, dude. Nothing really seemed that serious. But as soon as I couldn’t find her in the crowd…”
Dare’s eyes widen. “Shit. Okay. Check the bathrooms. I’m heading for the stairwell. We’ll find her, Ghost. It’s probably nothing.”
I nod, my jaw setting firmly as I head for the restrooms. I knock on the ladies’ room door once before poking my head inside. It’s empty, save for one woman putting on lipstick at the sink.
She gasps when she sees me.
“Have you seen a dark-haired girl in a red dress?” I ask her quickly.
She shakes her head mutely, eyes wide. The lipstick tube is frozen halfway to her mouth.
I back out of the restroom and perform a thorough check of the men’s for good measure.
I stand out in the hallway once again, my brain working furiously to decipher this mystery. Where is Greta? Could she have gone out for some air?
That thought immediately drives me forward, and I head in the same direction as Dare had moments before, toward the stairwell. I glance at the elevator and quickly disregard it.
The stairs will be faster.
I push the door open and begin descending them as quickly as I can. My prosthetic doesn’t slow me down as I jump from the third stair to the landing, continuing my progression downward. It’s when I reach the landing on the third level that I hear something strange, and I stop moving.
Listening, my ears strain for another hint of the sound I heard that doesn’t belong.
I hear it again, the sound of a quiet sniffle and then a muffled sob coming from the floor below me. I take the steps two at a time until I reach the second-floor landing.
Greta is huddled on the steps, hugging her knees to her chest. She’s crying.
The sound of her anguish sends a shard of pain slicing through my chest, and I almost have to double over with the pain of it. But my eyes are focused on Greta and what she needs, and she sure as hell doesn’t need me to fall apart. I need to find out what the hell is making her cry.
“Baby…” I kneel down beside her, taking her into my arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
I attempt to keep the frantic tone from my voice, but I’m pretty sure I fail because when she raises her tear-streaked face to me, I almost lose my mind.
“Tell me,” I instruct, cupping her face in my hand.
Her eyes focus on me, a watery blue abyss that I can’t afford to fall into right now. “He…he hurt me.”
Anger, furious and white-hot, threatens to overwhelm me. I grapple for control over the emotion, focusing on Greta and only Greta. “Who hurt you?”
“I didn’t see his face, Grisham. He was wearing something over his eyes…oh, my God. I didn’t even get a chance to remember everything you taught me! God…I’m such an idiot!”
Now I move so that I’m crouching in front of her, cradling her face in both of my hands. “No, angel. If someone attacked you, none of this is your fault. Did he grab you?”
She shakes her head frantically. “No, I was outside, just catching a breath of fresh air. It’s kind of stuffy in there, you know?”
I nod, patiently waiting for her to continue. Meanwhile, there’s a flurry of activity inside me, urging me to let Greta go and chase down whoever the hell had attacked her.
“So I was heading back inside, taking the stairs instead of the elevator because I didn’t want to wait.”
I nod again.
“And then this guy was just…there. I don’t know where he came from, but his mask scared me. He was running straight at me, and he used something in his hand—I don’t know, a knife? Something cut my arm.”
She indicated her forearm and my eyes locked in. I saw that there was a tear in her dress, and I caught a flash of blood.
“Motherfucker.” The curse flies from me before I can control it as fury roils outward from the very heart of me.
“Then Dare came, and the guy kept running down the stairs. Dare checked to make sure I was okay, and then he ran after him.”
“Dare’s gone after him. That’s good.” I stroked her cheekbones gently with my thumbs, trying to ease the fear still lingering in her eyes. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Greta. I’m sorry he got to you. I should have been here.”
Her eyes widen, and her fingers circle my wrists, holding on tight. “Grisham, you had no way of knowing this would happen. I should have been safe, this is a nice hotel. It’s not your fault.”
I close my eyes briefly. Because no matter how many times she says those words, I will always feel like protecting the people I love is my purpose. So when she’s hurt, hell yes it’s my fault. I have the ability to keep her safe, and I damn well need to do it.
I couldn’t do it for my mother for years, but I will do it for Greta.
I lean my forehead against hers. “Let’s go inside and find you some medical attention, okay? I want someone to look at your arm.”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to go inside. I don’t want the circus my father will turn this into.”
I give her a small, regretful smile. “We can’t hide this from him, Greta. He needs to know that you were attacked by some psycho at his event.”
She sighs. “I guess you’re right. Damn it.”
I pull her to her feet. “How bad does it hurt?”
She glances at her arm and frowns. “I think it’s a shallow cut. Hopefully it won’t need stitches.” Her eyes swim at the thought.
I nod, pulling her into the crook of my arm where I need her to be. She may be okay, but I need to feel her body beside mine. I’m still struggling to keep my breaths even, to control the rage building a stone wall inside my chest. Now that I know she’s safe, all I want to do is make sure her father has her and go after the person who dared to make her bleed.
I want to make him bleed.
An eye for an eye.
The event is winding down, thankfully, and people are leaving as we enter. We receive a few strange looks from parting guests, but I ignore them and hustle Greta to a table in the corner. I sit her down, and turn to look for Jacob.
Berkeley rushes over. “Oh, my God, Greta! What happened?”
She sees the tear in Greta’s dress a
nd her eyes widen. “Are you hurt?”
Greta’s face is pinched, exhausted. Her skin is paler than usual, her eyes standing out starkly against the pallor of her face. I can’t keep my eyes from roving over her body again and again, checking for more injuries I may have missed.
“Some asshole attacked her in the stairwell. Dare went after him.”
A flicker of worry shoots through Berkeley’s eyes, but she covers it well and comes to Greta’s side. She scoots a chair closer and places an arm around her. Carefully pulling up Greta’s sleeve, she examines her wound. I lean closer, wanting to see for myself how bad it is.
“Oh.” Berkeley catches her breath. “Not too bad. It doesn’t look like you need stitches. It’s a long gash, but not deep. Do you want to go to the ER?”
“Yes,” I answer at the same time Greta gives a resounding “No!”
I stare at her, and she stares back. There’s a stubborn lift to her chin that lets me know she’s not budging.
“No ER, Grisham. I’m okay. I can check in with my regular doctor tomorrow if it’ll make everyone feel better.”
“Greta?” Jacob has appeared at my side, concern etched on his face. “What…” He trails off as he sees her wound.
It’s stopped bleeding, but it’s obvious she’s been hurt. “What the hell happened?” His voice is nothing more than a growl, and I understand exactly where he’s coming from.
Quickly, I recount what Greta told me about the attack, and Jacob’s scowl grows deeper with every word.
“Why would someone attack you?” he asks.
I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again since I found her huddled—crying and alone and hurt—on those stairs. That was the moment I realized that what I thought was a harmless admirer situation was really something far more sinister that we could no longer just keep an eye on.
My voice is steady and grim as I answer Jacob’s question.
“She has a stalker. And he’s escalating.”
22
Greta
The word stalker hits me in the gut like an uppercut.
I don’t have a stalker. Celebrities have stalkers. Girls who are important, who have a public platform. Not me. I’m just Greta.