Give Me Grace

  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.

  He looked up, pausing his movements. “Hungry?”

  I pursed my lips. “No.”

  “No?” He raised his brows. “I make a mean grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.”

  “Of course you do,” I retorted. “Because you’re a mean person. If you were nice, you’d be making a nice grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.”

  Kelly barked out a laugh as he started slicing cheese from the block of cheddar. “You worried my sandwich is going to beat you up?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past anything you made,” I muttered snidely.

  He chuckled as he layered the cheese over the bread. My stomach growled again. Without even looking at me, he handed over a slice of cheese. His response was a grin when he felt the piece of cheese leave his fingers.

  There was no harm in eating, was there? It would give me energy for a proper escape. And maybe appearing amenable might get him to answer the question that had been running through my head on repeat since I first saw him. I nibbled on the edge of the cheese as I watched him slice tomato and add it to the sandwiches.

  “Kelly.”

  “Mmm,” he replied, not looking up.

  “Your parents. It wasn’t a murder-suicide, was it?”

  Kelly paused and I almost missed the way his hand shook a little before he drew a deep breath. The tremor stopped when he regained control. He finished making the sandwiches and put them on the pan heating behind him. Then he turned around and gripped the edges of the counter on either side of me, trapping me in. “How ‘bout you tell me what you were keepin’ from Casey that got him so upset. Then I’ll answer your question.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, babe. Really.”

  I’d tell him anything to get the answers Casey was so desperate for. “I have cancer,” I said simply. “I was going to tell him, but he found out from someone else.”

  Kelly drew back sharply, looking like I’d punched him in gut. “Fuck.”

  He muttered the word under his breath, but I still heard it. His reaction didn’t make sense. Why would he care?

  “How bad is it?”

  “That’s none of your business,” I replied.

  Kelly stepped close again, so close I could feel the heat of his body. I tried inching back, but there was no room to move. “How bad is it?” he bit out.

  “I’m supposed to be on my way home to Melbourne right now to start chemotherapy. I’ve already held off treatment as long as possible, so whatever the hell you’re doing with me, it’s pointless if I don’t get home.”

  Kelly nodded carefully and I could see him absorbing what I was telling him. After a pause, I said, “Your turn.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” he told me before he turned around and flipped the sandwiches, his body tense.

  “What?”

  “Your question. It wasn’t a murder-suicide,” he told me. Reaching up, he took two plates from the above cupboard and placed them on the counter, the grim reaper on his back glaring at me all the while.

  “What was it then?”

  “I answered your question,” he growled. He put the sandwiches on the plates, sliced mine into quarters, and turned, shoving the plate at me. I grabbed it before it dropped on the ground.

  “Quarters? I’m not a child.”

  “The cheese is hot,” he replied. “It’ll cool faster for you.”

  “You’re worried I’ll burn my tongue?” I questioned, my eyes wide with disbelief. “After you backhanded me across the face?”

  “I told you to be quiet and you started screaming. It hurt my fuckin’ ears.” He carried his plate to the dining table, dragging me along with him.

  I noticed his sandwich wasn’t cut into quarters. He hadn’t cut his at all. “What, your tongue is so badass it can handle hot cheese and mine can’t?”

  “Babe, you wanna
know how badass my tongue is then sit down and spread your legs.”

  I paused to glare at him, beginning to realise he was a lot more like his older brother than just in looks. “It all comes back to sex with you!”

  Kelly snatched the plate from my hand and dumped it on the table. “Sit down, shut the fuck up, and eat.”

  I sat, and I ate, and I blinked back tears because I wanted Casey and I wanted him now. I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and hold me close like he loved to do. It made me feel safe when I was burrowed against him, inhaling his warm, male scent.

  “Don’t cry,” Kelly ordered.

  “Sure,” I muttered sarcastically.

  His phone rang where it rested on the table beside him. I saw the name Morgan flash up on the screen before he picked it up. My eyes narrowed. That bitch! Were they in this together? I should’ve done more than just slap her in the face. I should’ve throat punched her. And when she went down, because my blow would’ve felled her, I could’ve scratched her eyes out and ripped every single hair extension from her head.

  “What do you want?” Kelly answered.

  I strained but I couldn’t hear her reply.

  “Shit,” Kelly spat. “This ain’t the fuckin’ mafia, bitch.”

  I took mild satisfaction at hearing him call her a bitch when all I got from him was babe or Grace. Suck on that, Morgan. The entire world knows you’re a mean cow.

  “You can’t just go around putting hits on people because your brother is the president of the Sentinels.”

  Oh shit.

  And I’d slapped her.

  No wonder they wanted me dead.

  I was so dead.

  So very, very dead.

  I tuned back in to find Kelly ending the call.

  “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

  “Fuck.” He tossed his phone on the table without answering me and stood quickly. “Morgan is on her way and she’s got her fuckin’ brother involved.”

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked, batting his hands away as he began strapping me back down in the chair. “You should be letting me go, not taping me up to await my doom like a Christmas turkey!”

  “You don’t escape the fuckin’ Sentinels, Grace. Shit is about to fly. You’re better off here with me while I talk it out.” He paused and then picked up the tape. Ripping a piece off, he slapped it over my mouth. “Be better if you shut the fuck up too. If you start flappin’ your gums, you’ll only make it worse.”

  On that ominous note, he disappeared down the hall. Moments later he returned, a handgun tucked into the waistband of his sweats and a shirt in his hands. He tugged it on, pulling it quickly over that motherfucker chest.

  That’s when I heard it. The thunderous roar of a motorcycle coming down the street. My heart began to hammer in my chest in tune with the sound, creating a symphony of doom. As though my fear was audible, Kelly stood in front of me, arms folded, his bulk wiping out my view of the front door.

  There was arguing out the front of the house, then suddenly the front door slammed. I flinched. I wasn’t sure my heart could hammer any harder until it suddenly hit warp speed.

  “Where is she?” I heard Morgan hiss.

  “Move,” boomed a gravelly voice from the door. There was a shuffle and Morgan came into view, moving sideways as someone came in behind her.

  Kelly jabbed a finger at her. “Keep out of this, Morgan.”

  Yeah, bitch, I added silently from behind the tape.

  “This her?” boomed the voice, louder now because it was closer.

  Kelly stepped to the side, still keeping guard, but revealing me to the big biker boss dude.

  My mouth fell open as I took him in, from the buzzed hair on his head, to the mammoth, woolly beard, to the leather that covered his entire body and down to booted feet that would crunch bones beneath them with ease.

  My eyes flew back up, meeting his dark brown ones. That’s when I knew that before, when I thought I was dead, I really wasn’t. Because that was before I saw this man. Now I was whatever was worse than being dead, because I knew this man.

  From the flare in his eyes, I knew he knew me too. The last time I saw this badass biker was at the bonfire after our photoshoot for the Hendrix label. I’d tossed water all over his burning beard before careening away in a hail of gravel, John sideswiping a bunch of Harleys with his car as we made our rapid escape.

  “Grace.” The single word on his lips was a ball of dread in my belly.

  He reached forward and ripped the tape from my lips. I ignored the sting because it was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Not when death was here, knocking on my door.

  I breathed his name with horror. “Bingo.”

  “This is the bitch you ordered a hit on, Morgan?” he thundered, looking at me while he spoke.

  “That’s her,” she replied, her lips pressing in a smirk that I wanted to smack from her face.

  He spun around. “What the fuck? Who do you think you are, traipsing around ordering hits on people? What are we? The fuckin’ mafia? You want every single fuckin’ fed in Sydney tacked to our fuckin’ asses? Goddammit!” He jabbed a finger at Kelly. “You shoulda just fuckin’ told me what the bitch was up to.”

  Kelly held up his hands. “You were out of town. I had to do something to keep her safe until I could get a hold of you.”

  Bingo turned back around to face me. “No one’s touchin’ this classy piece of ass. Call the hit off,” he ordered, staring into my eyes.

  “Why?” I blurted out.

  “You saved my motherfuckin’ life,” he boomed.

  Morgan’s mouth fell open. “She did?”

  “I tossed water at you,” I told him as if he needed reminding. It was hardly life saving. “Then I broke all your motorcycles,” I added. Then I shut my mouth before I could mention the slapping of his sister. Otherwise he might change his mind and put the hit back on.

  “You scratched a couple,” Bingo admitted, then rubbed at his epic facial hair lovingly. “But you saved me from goin’ up in flames when I was being a fuckin’ idiot. You didn’t stick around to let me thank you. I owe you big, ” he boomed.

  Bingo turned back to Morgan. “Touch a hair on her pretty head and there’ll be trouble.” He jabbed his finger at Kelly again, who’d been standing there watching our exchange without a flicker of emotion crossing his face. “I need to take a piss. When I come back, I want her out of that chair and gone.”

  Bingo disappeared down the hallway.

  “Fuck,” Kelly growled suddenly as he stalked to the window. “Casey’s here. You let him follow you,” he accused Morgan.

  My heart leaped instantly. Then Kelly snatched the gun from the back of his sweats and engaged the slide. My heart plummeted just as fast.

  I opened my mouth to scream when suddenly Morgan was slapping another piece of tape across my face.

  Godfuckingdammit!

  The butt of the gun jammed harder into the back of my head. I blinked and Grace came back into focus. I wanted to turn around, to see my brother, but I wouldn’t take my eyes from Grace for anything.

  “I should’ve known the police would let you off quickly,” Kelly growled.

  “You did this?” I whispered because suddenly it hurt to talk. Every piece of me hurt knowing my brother was alive and hid from me all these years. That he would do something like this. “You took my girl and you made it look like I killed her?”

  No answer came from behind me and that was answer enough. Anger coursed through my blood like molten lava. Breathing through it took effort. My eyes flicked from Grace to the gun pressed to her temple. I couldn’t look at Morgan because if I did, I knew my finger would press down on the trigger and I’d shoot her and that couldn’t happen, because if I fired at Morgan, she might hit the trigger and shoot Grace.

  “Call off your bitch before I start shooting,” I ordered Kelly, the gun in my hand steady and cocked.

  “She’s not my bitch,” Kelly said from behind me as if th
e thought made him want to puke.

  Movement from the hallway caught my eye and the big biker came into view. I blinked, because he was even bigger up close and that was a lot to take in. He scanned the scene before him with apparent exasperation. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?” he boomed. “You!” He pointed at me and my adrenaline spiked. “Get that fuckin’ gun off my sister. You!” he pointed at Morgan. “I told you to leave that girl the hell alone.”

  “Fuck you, Bingo!” Morgan cried out, the words aimed at the biker. “And fuck you,” she added, glaring over my shoulder. At Kelly, I realised with surprise. “I wanted you like I never wanted anything in my life. But after everything I did for you, you never gave me the time of day.” I felt my brother jolt behind me, the butt of his gun shifting slightly against my head. “So I fucked your brother instead.”

  “Jesus,” Kelly breathed from behind me.

  Grace closed her eyes, her chest expanding with a deep breath before she opened them again. I wanted to apologise for making such a huge mistake. I hadn’t even met Grace before it happened, yet it continued to taint us anyway.

  “But your brother never wanted me either!” Morgan shouted, her eyes red and her body trembling. It made the gun in her hand shake and I held my breath knowing how easily the trigger would fire. “He threatened to destroy everything I ever worked for. Just like that! Everything. That’s why this bitch here deserves to die. If he takes everything from me, then I’m going to return the favour. All the better he’s here to see it,” she sneered.

  “Put down the weapon, Morgan!” I ground out. Both my arms were outstretched holding the gun, my eyes squinting as I kept her in my sights. I didn’t care how big her biker brother was. As long as Morgan stood there with that gun pointed at Grace, I wasn’t putting mine down.

  Movement came from the hallway again. I was careful not to shift my eyes and reveal Travis silently making his way towards us.

  Ignoring everyone, Morgan ripped the tape from Grace’s mouth. Tilting her head at my girl, she asked, “Any last words?” before cocking the gun. The sound was soft, but it rang through my ears like a crack of thunder.

  A single tear rolled down Grace’s cheek and my heart stopped.