by Vanessa Vale
“Emory.”
I almost fainted in relief at the sound of Gray’s voice. While I was desperate for the police, I needed Gray.
“Gray,” I whispered, my breath coming out in silent pants.
“What’s wrong?” His voice went from soft to hard in a second.
“There’s… in my house,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath, looking around. All I could see was the grill and bumper of the car in front of me, the steps of the house to the right and the empty street on the other side. I listened for heavy footsteps. “Kitchen. He—”
“There’s someone in your house?”
“Yes!” I hissed, then pressed my lips together. My nostrils flared as I tried to calm my breathing.
Gray called to someone, said something, but I was too panicked to follow. “Emory, are you in the house now?”
I shook my head, my hair getting in my face then realized he couldn’t see me. “No. I ran down the street,” I whispered. “I’m hiding between cars. I called 9-1-1 but didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Don’t move.” I heard car doors slam, and I flinched, but it was through the phone. “Baby, we’re on the way. Reed called the police, too. Just listen to my voice. Okay?”
I didn’t know who the hell Reed was, but I didn’t care. Gray was coming. “Okay, but… hurry.”
14
GRAY
* * *
The second dinner with the PR rep went well, as much as a dinner meeting can go. Reed in a suit was hard to wrangle; he was more comfortable in MMA shorts and a T-shirt than a tie. I didn’t blame him since I never wore one. I was too old for that shit. I wore a snap shirt and jeans, and I didn’t give a fuck if anyone cared. But Reed? He was the fighter. He wore the tie for shit like this.
With a full stomach from the fancy meal, he couldn’t train, so we watched fight videos and talked strategy. The upcoming competition would be in a ring, but training was more than just practice fighting. I’d been relaxed on the sofa, my feet on the coffee table, remote in hand, when Emory called. The rush of pleasure at the sight of her name on the screen still surprised me.
I hadn’t expected to hear from her, knowing she was probably asleep after her third long day at work. I’d wanted to meet her at the ER when she was done, take her out to eat, but I’d had to do dinner with the sponsors of the fight.
This was new to me, the excitement I had when I was with her, near her, or even thinking of her. I hoped she might be in bed and wanting to tell me what she was wearing. I smiled as I took the call, but it slipped the instant I heard her voice.
Just one word, my name, and her fear was obvious. Jesus, there was a man in her house. Emory didn’t have any skills, any way to defend herself. When I'd given her the tour of the gym downstairs and we’d stood in the ring together, she hadn't even known how to form proper fists. I'd had to show her how to hold them up in front of her. I was in my apartment, and she was across town, hiding between parked cars from a fucking criminal.
I jumped to my feet as if cattle prodded and snapped my fingers at Reed, who immediately perked up from his spot.
“Someone’s in Emory’s house. Came in through the back door.”
Rounding the couch, I gave Reed her address for the police. I bolted for the emergency stairwell. Fuck the slow elevator. Taking the steps two and three at a time, I continued to reassure her while Reed got on the horn with 9-1-1. In the parking lot, I tossed my keys to Reed. There was no way I could drive as I kept talking with Emory. By the time we were in the truck, I was in a full-out panic for her safety, the hot rush of fear and the rage at my lack of control had me gripping the door handle so hard it would probably have dents. The fucker had come in the back door of her house. Had she ever replaced that broken bulb? Shit, why hadn’t I gone and done it for her like I’d planned?
Reed didn’t waste time getting out of the parking lot. For once, I was thrilled he drove like fucking Mario Andretti.
I remembered my dad’s text from the night before. He knew about Emory. From his words, he’d had me followed to her house and knew exactly where she lived. Had he sent someone to hurt her? He’d never done something this extreme to fuck with me, but I hadn’t had someone like Emory before. “Holy shit, Reed. Drive faster.”
“The police should be there soon,” he said, his usual fighting focus now on the road. He slowed to take a corner and the engine roared.
“Is this the one?” he asked as he steered and skidded around another turn. Thankfully, the roads were mostly deserted at this time of night. He was breaking every law, and I didn’t give a shit. If the police wanted to pull us over, they could follow us all the way to Emory's for all I cared. I hadn’t mentioned Emory to anyone but Thor, but it seemed the men knew about her anyway. They were worse about gossip than a bunch of old ladies. I hadn’t heard that she was considered The One, though. Was she The One? Hell yes.
I gave a stiff nod as I held the phone to my ear. “Emory, 9-1-1 will send someone to your house since you called and hung up. Reed called them, too. They’ll be there soon. You don’t have to talk, baby, just keep your head down and stay nice and quiet. We’re getting closer. Don’t move.”
I could hear her breathing, quick and frantic. Fuck, I’d known Emory less than a week, and she was more to me than anyone before—she was everything. The idea of someone wanting to hurt her had my hands tightening into fists. I wanted to hunt down the bastard and beat the shit out of him. I wanted to grab Emory to me, hold her close, sink into her and never come up for air. I needed her scent, her feel, her taste like I needed to breathe. And we’d only kissed. This wasn’t lust. This wasn’t infatuation. This was so much deeper.
“Go through the fucking light,” I growled when Reed slammed on the brakes when the light in front of us turned yellow then red. My head whipped back against the headrest when he switched pedals and roared through the intersection. It was a solid ten-minute ride to her place, but we made it in a little over five. How we weren’t pulled over, I had no idea.
“We’re almost there, baby. I can hear you breathing, know you're with me. I’m going to shout your name when I get there, and you’re going to come out for me and everything’s going to be okay.”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely more than a breath in the phone, but I heard sirens in the background. The guy had to be long gone by now, but I wasn’t taking any fucking chances.
“Pull up here.” I pointed to a break in the cars lining the side of her street and Reed weaved into the space, tires skidding. I opened the door and dashed out. I could see police lights, but not in front of the row of houses. They’d probably pulled into the alley as that’s where Reed had told 9-1-1 how the guy got in.
“Emory!” I shouted and spun in a circle in the middle of the street. Cars were parallel parked bumper to bumper on both sides for the entire block. Everything was quiet. Where the hell was she? “Emory!”
As I lifted my cell to my ear to tell her to come out, she stood up from between two cars. She was like an apparition appearing from nowhere.
“Gray!”
Relief shot through me like I was back in battle and realizing I hadn’t been hit in a firefight. It was a sick combination of adrenaline and sheer relief. She was on the far side of the street, about five cars down. I ran to her, my boots slapping loudly on the pavement.
I slowed within a few feet of her, looked her over, from her shiny bright toenails to her bare legs, tiny sleep shorts and tank top to her tousled hair. It was the look on her face, a combination of fear and desperate need—not a sexual need, but a longing for someone so great that it was almost fierce—that had me pulling her into me. Her arms went around my waist, gripping me tightly as if she were afraid to let go.
As I planted kisses on the top of her head, the scent of coconut soothed the anger. Her frantic breathing moved my arms, and she felt warm, so very warm against me. She was alive and safe, and I never wanted to go through that again, fucking ever.
Reed came up besid
e us, stood like a soldier waiting for an order. I didn’t move, but I gave the slightest nod of my head to indicate that she was okay. I watched as his shoulders lowered in relief, and he walked away, perhaps to connect with the police who were now coming down the block.
I tried to move back, but Emory wouldn’t loosen her grip. “Is he gone?”
I knew she wasn’t talking about Reed because I doubted she even knew he was there. “Fuck, yeah. He probably left when he heard the police sirens. You’re safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. Baby, let me look at you.” She loosened her grip enough for me to pull back and cup her face in my hands. “Are you hurt?”
Her eyes were wide and bright, her pupils dilated, and the fear had not gone away entirely. She shook her head, licked her lips. I felt little tremors shake her core. “No. I’m fine.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“I was asleep, and I heard a crash downstairs. He… swore and bumped into something. I climbed out the window, and then he turned the hall light on. God, he was after me. Gray, he turned the hall light on!”
She was trembling in my hold, her eyes even wider. The panic had not subsided, but she wasn’t freaking out. I pulled her into a kiss, soft yet seeking, as if I could take her fear, her pain away. I broke it off with a gasp, then tucked her back into my chest to soothe her, but it was more for me, to know she was in my arms, and there wasn’t a thing that could happen to her with her there.
I tried to calm my breathing, to slow my racing heart, but what the fuck? The guy had turned the lights on? That was bad. Really fucking bad.
She climbed out the window? How the hell had she climbed out the window? I looked down the long row of houses but couldn’t say in the dark which one was hers. All I knew was that her bedroom was on the second floor, and unless she was Spiderman, I had no fucking idea how she got down without breaking her legs… or her neck.
Reed approached with a police officer. I kissed her head once more. “Baby, the police are here to talk with you. Are you ready for that?”
If my dad was behind all this, the police didn’t need to know about the possibility. I’d deal with him in my own way, in a way that ensured he wouldn’t get away with it. He was powerful enough to slip through the legal system without even a slap on the wrist. I'd seen it happen before, time and again. If he was guilty, I wouldn’t stop with just a slap, and it fucking wouldn’t be on his wrist.
She nodded against my chest then turned so she faced the officer, but I kept one hand on her. Now that I knew she was safe, I wasn’t letting her go.
15
EMORY
* * *
Gray stood beside me the entire time I gave my story to the police, his hand warm and heavy on my shoulder. His grip tightened every time I said something especially bad, like when I told about the guy yelling for me from my bedroom window as I ran off or about climbing down the emergency ladder. With the police officer’s permission, Reed was escorted into the house to grab a sweatshirt and flip-flops for me to wear, so I wasn’t just braless and in a snug tank top and sleep shorts. When the officer had grilled me enough, we’d gone into the house together to see if anything was missing, but other than things knocked off the counter and a chair moved, most likely the crashing sounds I'd heard, nothing had been taken. The back door had been jimmied, and the glass from the broken lightbulb was still on the stoop although crunched into tiny pieces by his feet.
Fortunately, Gray coaxed the officer into having me give a complete statement at a different time. He could tell I was barely holding it together, and I was relieved for his presence, for his taking control of the situation.
When the police left and the neighbors went back into their houses, most likely checking the security of their deadbolts and security systems, the fear returned. “Gray, I… I can’t stay here.”
He turned me to face him, bent at the waist, so he was my height. “You’re coming home with me.”
Relief made me weak, knowing I wouldn’t have to stay in the house right now. I pointed over my shoulder. “But the back door, the police said it was broken.”
“It’s being taken care of.”
How? “But—”
He put a finger over my lips, looked at me in a way that had me swallowing my words. “It’s being taken care of,” he repeated. “Go get some clothes together, and we’ll get out of here.”
I glanced up the steps afraid the guy might still be up there, even though the police had been in the house for the past hour. “Come with me?”
He nodded and followed me upstairs and into my room. I watched him as he took in the bed, the pictures on the wall, my clothes tossed over a chair. None of it interested him as much as the open window, the white curtains moving with the slight breeze. I let him look around as I quickly pulled a few things from my closet. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he checked out the emergency ladder, pulled it back inside until it was a pile on the floor once again.
Zipping up my small bag, I said, “Ready.” He pulled his head back inside and turned to me.
“You said Boy Scouts?” He was looking down at the pile of rope that had most likely saved my life.
“Chris and the Emergency Preparedness Merit Badge.”
“God bless the Boy Scouts,” Gray said under his breath as he held out his hand. I took it easily, reassured by his warm touch, and he led me back downstairs and outside, locking the door with my keys he picked up off the small table.
“Isn’t Simon your neighbor?” he asked as we went down the steps.
I pointed to Simon’s door, the house dark. “That one. He’s in Dallas for work.”
He glanced up at my bedroom window then led me down the street. We met up with a man in front of Gray's truck, angled illegally into a spot. Gray introduced him. Reed was his name, and by the look of him, a fighter. Gray opened the door for me, jogged around and joined me in the back. “Seat belt,” he murmured as Reed climbed behind the wheel.
I fumbled with the belt, and Gray’s large hand covered mine, helped click it into place. He kept my hand in his the entire way to his apartment, his thumb making small circles. I found the movement reassuring enough for me to relax into the seat, thankful they both remained silent. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I felt wired yet exhausted at the same time.
When Reed pulled into the lot, Gray undid my belt for me and came around to help me out. He grabbed my small bag, and Reed tossed him the keys.
“Besides the door, get the back light fixed,” Gray told Reed, his voice a dark slash in the night. “I want to know where my dad is. Find him.”
“Done,” Reed said with a quick nod.
“Thanks,” I told him, my voice weary. He was doing so much, and it was the middle of the night. He didn't even know me.
Reed gave me a small smile as he nodded and went over to another car, one I assumed was his own.
Gray led me inside and up to his apartment, using his key fob for access, holding my hand. “Does Reed work for you?”
He shrugged. “I’m his trainer. His next fight is coming up in November. When you train a guy, there’s more to it than making him do push-ups and running five miles. It’s a big picture job. How he behaves outside the ring, what he eats, who he hangs with. We’re tight. Really tight. And he lives in one of the apartments on the second floor.”
When the elevator doors opened to Gray’s apartment, the sound of the TV was loud, the lights were on and half-filled glasses were on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“We were at the PR dinner and came back to talk strategy,” he said as explanation. “We were watching fight films when you called.”
I stood in the entry, unsure of what to do as Gray grabbed the remote, shut off the TV and the lamps, plummeting the space in an orange glow from the streetlights two floors down. Gray came over to me, took my hand and led me down the hallway where I’d ogled him as he stripped off his shirt before showering just a few days ago.
He fl
ipped a switch, and his bedroom filled with a soft yellow light from a lamp beside a king-size bed. We didn’t stop there but crossed the room to a dresser. “I know you brought a bag, but just in case.”
He opened the top drawer and pulled out a T-shirt, then opened another drawer for a pair of boxers, then led me to the bathroom. Finally releasing my hand, he turned on the water for the shower, tested the temperature.
I’d been used to my house and its less-than-modern conveniences—a water heater that only gave enough water for a five-minute shower, avocado-green tile from the seventies, a fridge that didn’t have an automatic ice cube maker and even floral wallpaper from fourth grade on the kitchen walls. I was used to it all, but this… the bathroom was heaven. The shower easily held two although I could see why Gray would want it super-sized since he wasn’t so small himself. With the Jacuzzi tub and the double sinks, this was what a modern, up-to-date bathroom looked like.
Gray eyed me carefully, then placed the clothes on the vanity. “Shower. I’ll be out there.” He angled his head toward the door. “Take your time.”
Closing the door behind him, I stood still as steam filled the room. Realizing I was staring at the heated towel rack for God knows how long, I stripped off my sleepwear and sweatshirt and stepped into the shower, closed the glass door behind me. This wasn’t just a shower, it was a steam shower, the enclosed area warming and the glass fogging. I tested the abilities of Gray’s hot water heater, for I remained beneath the rain shower head and let the sticky sweat of fear wash down the drain. I picked up Gray’s soap and sniffed it, recognized his scent and used it to clean myself. The thought of having his smell on me made me feel safe.
I had no idea how long I was in there, but Gray was waiting, so I dried myself then put on his clothes. His T-shirt hung to mid-thigh, and I had to roll the waist of the boxers over a few times for them to stay up, having them settle low on my hips. I found an unopened toothbrush from the drawer and brushed my teeth then finger combed my wet hair.