Give Me Grace (48 page)

I ran my eyes over her as I took another cautious step. Her hair was a wild tangle
, dirt smudged her cheek, and dried blood covered her arms and dress. I couldn’t remember ever seeing anything more beautiful in my entire life. I dragged air into my lungs, suddenly realising I hadn’t taken a full breath since last night. “Grace, baby? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, trying to speak behind the tape. I took another step and that’s when Morgan appeared to Grace’s left. With a smirk on her lips, she held up a gun in her hand and jammed it against Grace’s temple. Raw fear flashed across Grace’s face and it took everything I had to hold
myself in check and not flinch.

“She’s not hurt yet, but that can be arranged,” Morgan told me.

My finger caressed the trigger of my own gun. “Put it down and step away from Grace, Morgan.”

Grace’s eyes went wide over my shoulder and she started screaming from behind the tape. Before I could turn, I felt the cool butt of a gun press against the back of my head.

“You first, Casey,” said the voice from behind me.

My arms went slack and for a second I allowed my eyes to close. I knew that voice. It might have
roughened over the years, but I knew it. It wasn’t just the same voice as mine, it was the voice of my brother.

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes
, focusing on Grace in front of me. She was blurred and I realised it was because my eyes were burning with tears.

“Kelly?”

Two hours earlier…

“You don’t talk much,” I announced from my bound position on the dining room chair.

Kelly had taken the liberty of having a nice hot shower for himself while I was trussed up like a Christmas turkey, unable to move and feeling tired and grimy. Now he was moving around in nothing but a pair of low slung sweats, showing off that mile-wide motherfucker of a chest and tanned, rippling muscle. It was obvious he’d chosen commando as this afternoon’s dress of choice, highlighting the fact that the man really
was
big everywhere. I made it a point not to stare.

“Yeah?” Kelly slammed the fridge door shut and cocked his brow at me in true Casey fashion. My breath hitched. I couldn’t deny it. The Daniels brothers were absolute sex on a stick
—like what sweet, sticky cotton candy was to a poor, deprived child. It was a crying shame that this Daniels brother was completely whacked. “You talk too much, babe.”

“
Argghhh! I’m not your babe,” I told him for the millionth time.

“Not yet.” He winked at me. “But you can be if you play your cards right.”

The gleam in his eye was downright predatory as he walked over and stood in front of me. Unfortunately, my gaze shifted downwards, suddenly eye level with the giant anaconda in his pants. Not knowing where the hell to look, my eyes began ping-ponging around the room, eventually settling on somewhere in the distance.

“There will be no card playing,” I declared in my primmest voice possible.

Kelly took hold of my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Unlucky for you, I’m the one in charge and if I want card playing, there’ll be fuckin’ card playing.”

My eyes clouded over, suddenly apprehensive. “So we’re playing cards?”

He let go of my chin and straightened and there went my eyes again, fighting to find somewhere safe to land. “Why? You bored? Because I’m sure I can find something for you to do.” Kelly’s hand ran suggestively down his chest until it hit the waistband of his sweats. “It would have the added bonus of shutting you up.”

My nostrils flared and the subtle reaction made him laugh. “How dare you?
If my mouth is going anywhere near a guy’s junk, it’ll be Casey’s and his alone. I’ll pass, thanks.”

For a second his eyes softened and I got a brief glimpse of the real man that lay beneath the cockiness coating his surface. “Why were you and Casey arguing?”

I blinked, wondering how he knew.

“The party, Grace,” he prompted, his tone exasperated
because I couldn’t somehow read his mind. “You walked in, laughing and teasing him. I saw the light in his eyes and his hand slide under that sparkly dress of yours. You walked out, you’re yelling, he’s yelling, and that light in his eyes is gone.”

My heart squeezed because Kelly was right. I hated seeing that light disappear. I also shivered, because being watched like that was really creepy. “You were watching us.”

“You think I just magically stumbled upon you in that airport passageway?”

“No.”

Kelly folded his arms, the move making his biceps bulge even more. “So why the argument?”

I made a pointed effort of glancing at the tape binding me to the chair. It didn’t hurt, but it itched, and I was pretty sure I’d need to pee soon. “You want me to answer your questions, you can untie me from this chair.”

“I can make you answer any question I want without untying you, Grace,” he told me, his tone harsh.

“Threaten me all you like. It won’t work,” I replied, doing my best to suppress the fear. This guy might’ve been Casey’s brother, but I had no idea what he was capable of.

Kelly shrugged and I watched him walk to the kitchen. He opened up the cutlery draw and took out a paring knife. It looked extra pointy and gleamed under the light of the kitchen, forcing my pulse to ramp up a notch. He walked back to me, picking up his phone along the way. “Let’s test this little theory of yours.”

An unnatural calm took over the fear, impressing me. My mind tried to tell me it was simply adrenaline
, but I was too busy being phenomenally calm to pay attention.

Test away
, pal,
I retorted silently. And coolly.

Kelly pulled out a dining table
chair, setting it so it faced me. Sitting down, he carefully placed the knife in arms’ reach and then tapped at the screen of his phone. Then he held it up in front of me. I took one look and my calm expired on the spot. It was a photo of Henry in high megapixel glory. He was in the backyard of the duplex, Mitsy in his arms. He was laughing at someone but I wasn’t sure who because they were out of camera shot. The focus was solely on my brother.

Kelly took the phone back and cocked his head. “You know that guy?”

I wanted to rip the smirk from his lips. Instead, I shrugged, the movement more feeble than I would have liked thanks to my forearms being attached to the chair. “Never seen him before in my life,” I said breezily.

Kelly tapped at his phone and held it up again. It was a photo of Henry and
me together at the awards ceremony the very day of my arrival. It was after our performance and celebratory champagne so we were hugging each other close and smiling wide for the camera, busy riding the high. It seemed an entire lifetime ago now. Taking the phone back, Kelly read the beginning of the attached article out loud. “Henry Paterson, lead guitarist of Jamieson and brother of leading international model Grace Paterson, talks to us about rising fame, fortune, and his illustrious sister.”

I lifted my chin. “That’s not me.”

Kelly looked up from the phone. “Of course it’s you, Grace.” He set the phone down on the dining table to his right and then leaned back in his chair, staring me down. “Your brother’s got skills on the guitar. Be a shame to send someone over to break all his fingers, don’t you think?”

All the fight went out of me like a deflated balloon. If I
wasn’t strapped to the chair, I would’ve sagged from the easy defeat.

“Okay,” I said. “You’ve made your point. You
can
make me answer any question you want without untying me. Does that make you happy?”

Kelly grinned. “Yep … So
…” He folded his arms and sat back in the chair. “Why were you and Casey arguing?”

“Why do you even want to know?”

“Humour me.”

I sighed, the sound heavy to my own ears. “Because he found out something I was keeping from him.” To deflect any further questioning, I asked, “Why did you disappear?”

Kelly stared at me for a moment. “I didn’t disappear.”

“Casey thought you were dead.”

He shrugged, the casual motion making my words appear unimportant. “He thought you were dead,” I bit out, repeating myself so he understood the magnitude of those five words.

Kelly’s eyes narrowed, flashing anger. “Heard you the first time, Grace.”

“Don’t you care?” I burst out.

His gazed dropped to his hands,
shielding his face from my eyes. “It was better that he did.”

My heart dropped to my toes. “Better that he thought you were dead?”

He looked up from his hands. “Better that than knowing how much I hate him.”

“Why do you hate him?”

Kelly stood abruptly. “I’m the one asking the questions here.” Snatching the knife, he came at me. I shrank back. He took hold of my hand and with a quick flick of his wrist, sliced through the bindings on my left arm. I looked up at him, surprised. “You’re letting me go?”

He shook his head, indicating that was a no. “You’ve been squirming in your seat for five minutes.
Lettin’ you use the bathroom.”

I watched him slice through the tape on my right hand. Then he crouched down and cut through the ones around my legs. A joyful moan slipped out at being able to move. Kelly grinned and gave my ankles a quick massage. “Feel good, babe?”

I jerked from his grip and hissed, “Don’t touch me.”

Kelly stood from his crouch, crowding over me with his bulk. “I bet I could make you feel even better.”

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” I stood up. “Newsflash,
pal
. You might think you’re all that, but you’re not.”

“You don’t think I’m all that?” He gave me a look of mock sadness. “That hurts.”

“Arrghhh!” The man was a frustrating brute. Now that I was out of my chair, I was ready to run. I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. I shoved harder and he snatched my wrists.

“You done?”

My jaw locked from the effort of containing my rage. It was obvious I wasn’t getting
through
. Yelling at him wouldn’t help my situation. I would scope out the bathroom, I decided. I was probably slim enough to make a daring window escape. If not, I could just search for a weapon. Hell, I could just undo the shower tap and use it to bean him in the head. “Yes,” I replied through gritted teeth. “I’m done. I’d like to use the bathroom, please.”

Kelly brushed a thumb across my cheek. “Pretty manners, babe. I bet a man could take you anywhere and be proud to have you on his arm.”

I paused. Casey’s brother had a soft side. It kept slipping through, surprising me. “Why are you doing this?”

He withdrew his thumb, rolling his eyes. “Already told you, Grace. People want you dead.”

“Yes, yes.” I waved a hand. I knew that part. “That’s why you made it look like I was. What I don’t get is why you care, and now that you have me here, what are you planning on doing with me?”

“Let me worry about that.”

Kelly took my bicep and dragged me down the hall.
Damn
, I muttered under my breath when I saw the toilet. It was separate from the bathroom and the window sat high near the ceiling, mocking me with its microscopic size.

Kelly nudged me inside and now that I was there, I realised how busting to go I really was. I spun around, hands ready to slide my dress up
, and paused. Kelly was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, watching me.

“Privacy,” I snapped.

“Is totally overrated,” he finished for me.

“You’re not going to stand there and watch me pee.”

He turned around, giving me his back, and leaned against the doorframe again. “Hurry up, Grace. Gettin’ hungry.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you haven’t eaten for ten whole days. Get out and shut the door.”

“Just go, would you?”

“No,” I told him.

Bitch,
my bladder screamed at me in protest.

“Pretend I’m not here.”

My brows winged up. Was he serious? Pretend there wasn’t a colossal dude standing right there in nothing but a pair of sweats that were somehow inching lower by the minute? I cocked my head as I stared for a second at the tattoo covering his back. A grim reaper with red eyes stared back. He was standing at the front of Hell’s Gates. One skeletal hand was held up, a bony finger pointing at me, beckoning me forward. It was chilling. And familiar.

“You’re a Sentinel,” I breathed in horror.

Kelly tilted his head, looking at me over his shoulder. “Fuck, babe. You still haven’t gone?” Ignoring my comment, he reached for the door handle and shut the door. Suddenly I was alone. I tucked that little piece of information away to think on later and went about my business. When I was finished, he took me to the bathroom so I could wash my hands. I took my time, stalling, because I really didn’t want to go back to the chair. In the end, he got fed up and dragged me back.

I eyed the chair balefully. “Don’t make me sit down again. My ass is still numb.”

“Want me to massage it for you?”

I huffed. “Would you stop?”

“Can’t,” he said and nudged me into the narrow kitchen instead. He wedged me in the corner, making sure an attempted escape would mean having to tackle him like a linebacker first. “You make it too easy.”

Kelly got a loaf of bread out of the pantry and sat it on the counter next to where I stood. Going to the fridge
, he came out with butter, cheese and tomatoes. The thought of eating made my stomach growl loudly as I watched him butter the bread.