Give Me Grace (21 page)

Frank gave a weighty sigh. “I guess she lied.”

There could only be one reason why. She was involved with another biker and they were taking care of it. Bikers
did not
involve police in their business. No exceptions. They handled it within the “family.” I racked my brain trying to think. The kid’s father was a Sentinel, which means even if Sherry no longer had ties to the MC, Janie was
theirs.
The only reason why Janie would be inside the house of Sentinel was because Sherry had done something to piss them off. But what? Date a rival gang member?

I cursed crudely. “This is part of some goddamn biker war, isn’t it?
”

The police were going to shut us down the minute we opened our
mouths and said “biker war.” Those situations instantly became a no-fly zone for outside consulting firms like ours. Not only because their relationship with the police was volatile, but because no insurance company in the world would take us on for that.

“Goddammit!” I yelled and kicked the dash, not hiding my frustration at being blocked. Two biker gangs were using her as a pawn, and we were right there—the third party who wanted her out of the situation and safe. And our hands were tied.

“I know,” he said, his voice resigned. “Wait up.” When I heard him talking on another phone, I muffled the speaker and updated Travis before Frank came back on. “Kerr’s team is
thirty minutes out. Your orders are to vacate the area immediately.”

“There’s a little girl inside that house, Frank. I don’t give a fuck about orders! We’re not going anywhere.”

I looked at Travis. He met my eyes and gave a single nod. After ending the call, Travis drove past the unmarked patrol car and pulled up alongside the kerb another fifteen metres down the road.

Picking up Frank’s report, I searched for the contact information for the neighbouring house on the left. “Bingo,” I muttered when I saw their home phone number listed down.

I started dialling.

After six rings I got a message service
saying “You’ve reached the Abbott residence. Sorry we can’t take your call right now. If you’d like to leave your name and—”

I hung up.

“Neighbours aren’t home,” I told Travis. “I’m going through their backyard. Scope out what I can see over their fence. If I don’t get anything, I’ll climb over for a closer look.” I paused. “You cool with that?”

If a child’s life was in immediate danger, we had all agreed we would go against any higher authority, regardless of the damage to our firm’s reputation, to make that child safe. However, we hadn’t been caught up in a situation involving rival motorcycle gangs until now. Falling under their radar could potentially be the worst thing our firm could ever do.

Travis swiped a hand across his face, staring out the window while he processed the situation. After a moment, he glanced sideways and nodded. “I’m cool with that.”

After checking the safety on the handgun, I
leaned forward, tucking it into the back of my pants.

“Just scope it out and come back, okay?”

I agreed quickly and after setting my phone to vibrate only, slipped it in my pocket.

I glanced at Travis before opening the car door. “Ring Frank. Tell him to update Jared and Coby on the situation, just in case shit hits the fan.”

After a quick nod, I left Travis to his phone call and strolled casually across the road to the neighbouring house. It was a single-story brick home, similar to every other house in the street. Closed blinds covered the two front windows so I couldn’t catch a glimpse inside. Not wanting to give myself away by scanning the street, I kept my gaze focused on the front door as I walked up the paved pathway. I knocked softly on the metal frame of the screen. After thirty seconds of silence, I tested the handle. Locked. Putting my hands in my pockets, I strolled around the far side of the house. The back gate wasn’t latched properly and I slipped through, relieved to see a thriving green hedge lining the timber fence. It provided good cover from the target house.

Crouching low, I ran alongside the length of the hedge until I found a decent vantage point. Pulling out my phone, I dialled Travis.

“Speak,” he answered.

My eyes scanned
the neighbouring lawn. “The backyard is clear.” I shifted my gaze to the house. “All blinds are closed, no gaps. Place looks locked up tight.”

“What do you want to do?”

“What’s the ETA of Kerr’s team?”

“Eight minutes,” he told me.

“I want inside that house, Trav. It’s so fucking quiet. I’m not hearing a thing. If she’s in there on her own, this could be our opportunity to get her out quickly and quietly.”

There was silence on the other end and I knew Travis was thinking hard. “And if she’s not on her own, then we’re escalating a kidnapping into a potentially dangerous hostage situation.”

“And if it was your child in there?”

“I would scale the fence. I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

My voice was grim. “Then I’m going over.”

Keeping Travis on the line, I pocketed the phone and grabbed the top of the timber fence. After levering myself up and over, I hit the ground hard and ran for the back of the house. Heading straight for the back bedroom window, I crouched beneath it.

Fumbling quickly for my phone, I put it to my ear. “I’m over,” I panted. “What do you—”

“Pull the fuck out, Casey!” Travis ordered, his voice low and urgent and I realised why when I heard the rumbling
sound getting closer. “At least six biker members just turned down the street and are heading right for you.”

I cursed vehemently. “Sentinels?”

There was a pause and when his voice came back on the line it was filled with dread. “Worse.” Then he named the most violent and savage outlaw biker gang in Australia. “The Black Vipers.”

But it was too late to do anything. The back door of the target house banged open hard, the sound barely audible over the thunderous growl of approaching motorcycles. A man flew outside,
vaulting over the three back steps. He was running as soon as his feet hit the ground. For a guy who was built like a brick shithouse, he moved fast. I dropped my phone and ran at the guy. Leaping at him, I took him down in a tackle. The wind was knocked out of me when I landed hard beneath him.

“Where’s the girl?” I gasped.

“Fuck you,” he snarled, pushing off me as he scrambled to his feet. His fist slammed into the side of my head before I could get up properly. My neck snapped back.
Jesus.
It was like getting hit by a Mack Truck. Disoriented, I still managed to turn and sweep my leg out when he took off for the back fence. He stumbled and went down, landing on his stomach. The sound of gunfire barely registered in my already ringing ears when I straddled his back. Pulling out my handgun, I engaged the slide and pressed it quickly to the back of his head.

“Move and die,” I panted furiously, still winded from the tackle.

It was then that I heard the sound of a little girl screaming. My initial reaction was relief she was still alive until the sound of gunfire cut through the air. The screaming stopped instantly. So did my heart.

Before I could turn around, s
omething flashed in my peripheral vision. I felt something crash into the back of my head and the world went black.

When I
came around, Travis’s face came into focus. He was hovering above me, his fingers running over the swelling lump on the back of my head. The tender spot throbbed into a sharp spike of pain. I rolled over and puked in the grass.

“Do that again and I’ll punch you,
” I rasped, wiping at my face.

Travis remained abnormally silent as he
sat back on his heels. He wiped bloody fingers on his jeans with eyes that were raw and bleak. A small crack began forming inside me, growing wider until my whole body felt ready to shatter.

“
She’s dead, isn’t she?” I whispered.

He shook his head.
“She got caught in crossfire. It doesn’t look good for her.”

“No,” I moaned. Rolling onto my back
, I put a hand over my eyes. The long, drawn-out wail of a siren hit my ears. “Where is she?”

“
Detective Kerr has Janie out the front. That’s the ambulance arriving for her now.”

I tried sitting up and the world tilted. “I need to see her.”

Travis pushed me back down. “The medics have her now. Let them do their job.”

Emotions were running high when we met with Blackheath Police and Detective Kerr and gave our verbal reports.
No one yet knew the full story but from we could gather, I was pretty spot on. Sherry was dating a member of the Black Vipers. The Sentinels didn’t take too kindly to that considering it was Viper that shot her old man. The brother of the dead guy, Janie’s Uncle, was the one that kidnapped Janie. The police managed to arrest him along with two bikers from the Vipers, and they were all taken in for questioning. The rest had scattered like cockroaches. After being checked over by the medic, our firm was cleared of any wrongdoing, but we were put on notice. If we went against a direct police order one more time, we were done.

The drive back to the office that night was silent.

“You gonna be okay?” Travis asked, keeping the engine idling when he pulled up beside my car.

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. After grabbing my car keys from the centre console, I opened the door and slid out. Sticking my head back in, I muttered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Our firm had a rule about dealing with on-the-job trauma: you followed routine and returned to work the next day; you surrounded yourself with those who knew what you were feeling; and you spoke up if you weren’t coping. It was the only way that worked for us.

“Tomorrow.
Ring if you get any news on Janie’s condition.”

I gave him a brief salute in response because
I didn’t want to think about the slim odds of her survival.

It was eleven p.m. when I got inside my own car and started the engine. With eyes that burned from exhaustion, I got out my phone and sent a message to Morgan.

On my way.

I’d spent the past hour tossing and turning in bed, picking up my phone to message Casey and then changing my mind. After seeing John off at the airport earlier, I’d been thinkin
g of nothing else but seeing Casey later that night. The disappointment when he messaged to cancel was enough to see me reaching for the ice cream. What cured sexual frustration—Chunky Monkey or Peanut Butter Fudge? Turns out neither because Henry had eaten both, leaving the empty cartons in the freezer.

I tossed them in the bin, miserable enough to not bother complaining. Who was I kidding anyway? Ice cream was no replacement for Casey and the way he made me feel. Desire for him was a knot inside me, coiling tighter and tighter as each day passed
until I was ready to explode. I hadn’t even seen him fully naked yet which was surely some sort of crime. What I
had
glimpsed was enough to know the man was virile and beautiful. His shoulders were rounded and muscular, his abs tightly defined, and his thigh muscles powerful and strong.

I bit back a moan just thinking about him.

Mac speared me with a look of sympathy.

“What? It’s hot, okay?” I waved my hand at the broken air-conditioner. We were all suffering. The night was steamy and oppressive. A storm was supposed to hit earlier and sweep the humidity away, but it obviously had better things to do. I grabbed a hair tie from the dining table as I walked past. My hair was wrapped around my sweaty skin like damp tentacles. I peeled it off me and tied it in a knot on the top of my head.

“Give me that,” Henry growled at Mac. He reached for the frozen bag of peas she had plastered over half her face.

“Get lost, Henry.” She slapped his hands away. “I’m not wrestling with you over iced vegetables. It’s too damn hot.”

“It’s too damn hot to do anything,” I complained as I flopped in the chair beside the three-seater couch they were splayed over.

“
Or wear clothes apparently,” Mac replied with a pointed look at Jake. He was sprawled across the other couch in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs. Granted, we were all wearing next to nothing, but this was Jake and he was built like a tattooed Thor. No wonder Mac had cried dibs on the frozen peas because all that rippling muscle was making me sweat on a whole other level.

“It’s even too hot to jack off,” Cooper piped up from the floor where he
lay watching television.

“It’s never too hot for sex,” Frog countered from the couch opposite me. Rather than watch television like everyone else, he was busy sticking a skewer down the cast on his arm. I felt sorry for him. Having a plastered arm in this heat
must suck donkey’s balls.

“True that,” Cooper agreed. I looked his way. He watch
ed me, his lips curled suggestively. “Maybe Grace and I could test that theory.”

“I’d be willing to test that theory on the first person who fixes the air conditioner,” I joked.

“Me too,” Mac added.

Jake’s eyes fell on Mac as he stood and if I said I averted my gaze from all that sexy, rippling muscle, it would be a big, fat lie. I glanced across at Mac to see if she was similarly affected. She was studiously watching the television. I didn’t believe it for a second. Not because Cooper had flicked the channel to an old episode of
Murder She Wrote,
but because from the time it took for Jake to walk across her field of vision and out the front door, she didn’t blink once.

I heard the neighbouring front door of the duplex slam where Jake, Frog
, and Cooper lived. Five minutes later, he returned wearing a tiny pair of football shorts. Was that his definition of getting dressed? Because they were smaller than his boxer-briefs. The guy rarely wore a shirt when he was playing the drums. Granted it was sweaty work, and that sheen of perspiration on his pecs reeled in the female groupies, but he hardly wore a shirt when he wasn’t playing either. I assumed it was how he was most comfortable, but maybe he was doing it to get a reaction out of Mac. With her being unusually quiet, I’d give him points for it working.

Cooper dragged his eyes away from the television as Jake returned. He strode back through the middle of us, carrying a large metal toolbox.

“What’re you doing?”

Jake dumped the toolbox
on the timber floor with a clank, answering Cooper all the while looking at Mac. “Fixing the damn air conditioner, idiot, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Henry, Frog
, and Cooper all shared a smirk as Jake crouched and began rifling through a bunch of metal gizmos.

“Nothing like the incentive of sex for a guy to get his tool out,” Cooper quipped
, and all three of them laughed.

Jake looked directly at me and winked. With a metal
doovalacky in his hand, he stood and said, “Of course. Grace said she’d be willing to test the theory. There’s nothing sexier than a
willing
female.”

Everyone faltered, including me
.
Was this his tactic—making Mac jealous? That was like poking a tiger with a really big stick, and I wanted no part of it. I hope he wasn’t firmly attached to his balls.

“I think that I
… uh … might go to bed.” I started inching off the couch as I spoke. “To sleep,” I added hastily as I stood. “Good luck with the … er…” I ran my eyes over Jake and exhaled a sharp puff of air as I tried to think “…air conditioner. The air conditioner. Night all.”

A chorus of goodnights were called out as I made my way up the stairs. Mitsy followed on my heels. Surrounded by other people, the dog came off loyal
. I could almost believe I was the only important person in his life. It all changed the minute we were alone. Reaching my room, he peeled off towards his bed, and I to mine. He growled when I walked past him, breaching his personal space to set my phone on the bedside table.

Stripping down to a tiny pair of rainbow striped cotton and lace panties, I slid under the sheets and promptly closed my eyes. After a minute, memories of Casey—the way he kissed me, his tongue and hands on my body—had my heart racing and the sheets sticking to my body. I kicked them off with an irritable huff. Another minute later and I’d peeled the panties down my legs and tossed those too. Now completely naked, I was spread across the bed like a starfish and praying for a cool breeze.

I closed my eyes again, and this time I must have drifted off because Mitsy growling woke me.

“Shut up, dog,” I mumbled into my pillow.

His growling got louder.

“
Gonna kill you,” I slurred tiredly. “In the morning though. After sleep. You’re gonna get it.”

Mitsy’s growling reached offensive levels.

“What, dammit?” I sat up, scooting out of bed half asleep. When I stumbled over to Mitsy’s area by the open window, I realised it wasn’t even him growling, it was Casey’s car parked out the front by the kerb. My brow furrowed. He’d cancelled tonight, hadn’t he? Was he here for me or some other reason? Maybe someone had been hurt. Fear knotted my belly. I grabbed for my panties and tank top, hopping about as I slid them on hastily.

My heart hammered
with apprehension as I made my way quickly down the stairs. It turned to confusion when I noticed no one was around. The duplex was dark and still. With a quick glance behind me, I slipped out the front door, letting it softly click shut behind me. Casey was sitting in his car, staring straight ahead as I walked down the drive. Opening the car door, I slid inside and shut it. He didn’t acknowledge my presence, or even look at me at all. He simply shifted gears, and with a quick glance in his rearview mirror, pulled out onto the road.

I clicked my
seat belt into place. “Casey?”

With a hard swallow, he shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road as we drove. Despite his controlled composure, his face was pale and tension surrounded him like an aura.

“Casey, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry.” Our eyes met for a brief moment, the connection intense. Raw pain flickered in his eyes before it was quickly
banked. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His palm slid over my bare thigh, riding upwards as he continued to drive. The touch sent arousal spiking through me, but not enough to override the concern.

“Where are we going?”

He shook his head as if he had no clue. After a moment, he replied, “I want to drive, but I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you.”

My eyes fixed on his profile as he drove. The knuckles of his right hand were white on the steering wheel and his jaw tight. Something wasn’t right. In fact, something was very wrong. I slid my hand over his, my pulse racing when he flipped his palm over and grabbed hold.

“Casey?”

He glanced over at me.

“I want to be with you too.”

His answer was a squeeze of my hand before letting go.

We sat in silence as he drove. I stared at the dashboard, having no idea what to do or say or how to fix what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Sure.” A smile came to his lips
. It was forced because it never reached his eyes. “Just a bad day at work, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Maybe you should tell me.”

The roads were eerily quiet when he pulled to a stop at a red light. “I don’t want to talk right now.” His hand fell on my thigh again, the calloused palm scraping my skin as it slipped upwards. Reaching between my thighs, he dragged my panties to the side and slipped his fingers inside, gently massaging my clit and dragging a moan from my throat. He leaned over, putting his mouth on my ear, his breathing coming harder and heavier.

“I want to fuck you, Grace. Not just tonight, but every night,” he professed, his fingers working me expertly. The red light turned green, but with no cars around, Casey ignored it. “Hard enough for it to hurt, so that when you leave, me fucking you is the only thing you can think about.”

I closed my eyes, my head falling back against the headrest. I wanted him to fuck me that hard. I wanted to feel him inside me even when he wasn’t there, but not like this. Not when he was using sex to mask a hurt so painful and deep I could feel the ache of it surrounding me until I felt suffocated.

“No,” I gasped.

He froze at the single word, his hand stilling instantly.

“There’s something wrong, Casey. I can feel it.”

His hand slipped out of my panties and I mourned the loss. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped.

Tension bled into the car
as he put it in gear and accelerated swiftly. My eyes burned. When we were good, it was wild and intense and consuming, but we always spiralled into such a hot mess. I wasn’t sure if Casey and I would ever find a happy medium.

Drawing a deep breath, I forced calm. “Maybe you should take me home.”

“No.”

My brows flew up. “No?”

“No.” He shook his head, his tone cold and harsh. “This was
your
deal, and now you want to turn it into some kind of relationship? That’s not what this is. This is about you and me and sex. So maybe you should spread your legs so we can both get what we want.”

I flinched, his words a slap in the face. Clenching my jaw, I ground out, “Take me home.”

Casey pulled the car over, jerking the wheel so hard I lurched forward, the seat belt cutting into my chest. I winced as we pulled to a sudden stop. He wrenched on the handbrake and turned the car off. Twisting in his seat, he faced me, furious.

“If I’ve had a bad day, I’m not inclined to share it with you, or share anything else for that matter. I just want to have it fucked out of my system. Don’t you get that? I want to lose myself in fucking you until I can’t feel anything else.” He grabbed the bulge in his jeans, raking his eyes over me brazenly before returning to my face. “Don’t tell me this isn’t what you want.”

I sucked in a breath. “You asshole,” I hissed and scrambled for the door handle, my heart pounding with hurt and anger and so much else I almost couldn’t breathe from it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Casey grabbed at my arm before I could get the door open. “You can’t go out there with barely anything on.”

“I don’t care!” I shouted, trying to shrug him off as tears started falling down my face.