Page 5 of Give Me Grace


  “Funny as in har har, or funny as in this girl’s on crack?”

  “It doesn’t matter, John.” I huffed impatiently. “What matters is that I trusted you to be my friend and you didn’t tell me about Dalton. I found out through Selena who had the bad taste to send me a photo. Oh God, I’m such a chump!”

  “She did that? Fuckin’ bitch.” I heard him light a cigarette and exhale a plume of smoke. “I won’t be doing a shoot with her ever again.”

  John was a hot commodity in the fashion industry. Anyone he photographed hit instant fame. His declaration meant bad news for Selena but feeling sorry for her was a bit of a stretch right now. “At least I know! Were you ever going to say anything, John?”

  “Grace,” John said so softly I wanted to weep. “Remember what happened just ten days ago?”

  “Don’t.” My voice cracked on the single word because I did remember. And damn him for reminding me.

  “It wasn’t the right time to say anything.”

  “It’s never a good time to share bad shit, right? But you know what? This is my reason to say fuck everything. Fuck the money and the shallow bitches, and Dalton, and my whole entire life. Fuck it all, John. I don’t care anymore. Not about any of it. This is my life. I’m not going to sit back and let it kick me in the goddamn face when I’ve not even had a chance to live it how I want to. I’m going to fight for it.”

  “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “I’m on the next flight out.”

  “No.” I banged my fist against the toilet door for emphasis, feeling it shudder ominously beneath my unwarranted assault. “I’m not some crazy bitch gone rogue that needs restraints and white jackets. You know me, John. This has been a long time coming.”

  “And you choose now to have your emotional emancipation? Did they ring you again?”

  “No.”

  I heard him sigh. “Jesus, Grace.”

  Flicking my wrist, I checked the time on my watch. Travis and Casey would be out there waiting, probably wondering if I’d missed my flight. “I should go.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me there?”

  “I’m sure.”

  After assuring John I’d call him later that night, I hung up the phone and stared at the back of the toilet door. My eyes burned but I didn’t let myself cry. I locked my jaw and breathed deep as I blinked them back.

  The long drawn out squeak from the restroom door opening interrupted my pep talk. The sound of boots was heavy and I jolted when someone rapped smartly on the toilet door I was barricaded behind.

  “Ma’am? Airport security. Can you step out of the toilet please?”

  I tensed. What the hell? Were they really going to call me out for disturbing the peace? Did they have nothing better to do?

  “Just a minute,” I called out, tucking my phone back into bag.

  “Now, ma’am.” Her tone was firm, indicating if I didn’t open the door and step out immediately, she would storm it like a one-woman SWAT team. In this tiny space, all that would achieve was the door slamming in my face.

  Not relishing the idea of a bloody nose or black eye, I unlatched the lock and opened it. My eyes stared at her shiny boots, following the starched uniform upwards to the dark hair pulled back into a bun so severe it only emphasised her narrowed eyes. She stood directly in front of me, barring my way out.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes there is.” She took one precise step backwards. “Please step outside of the toilet stall. We’ve been informed you may be carrying drugs. You’ll need to come with me so we can arrange a search of your person and all your items.”

  Drugs? My mouth opened and closed. My person? Did she mean a strip search? Surely this was some kind of joke?

  The restroom door opened again. This time there was no drawn out, sinister squeak. It banged open with purpose, making me flinch.

  “Grace, baby?” The words were spoken casually yet the deep voice rumbled through the confined area, setting off shivers across my skin.

  My eyes shifted from the current threat to the strange man suddenly invading the female restroom. I blinked. Flirty blue eyes, clear as a luminous crystal, raked me over in a way that suggested he knew me. Intimately. For a split second, I wished it were true. In my line of work I saw pretty boys every day, but this guy oozed masculinity in a way they never could. His dirty, dark blond hair was casually windblown, not carefully and deliberately mussed like the male models I worked with. His shirt and jeans were worn and faded, comfortable, yet easily emphasised the wide chest and biceps thick with muscle.

  With his full lips, straight nose, and firm, stubbled jaw, he bordered somewhere between rugged man and pretty boy. It was quite a feat. Unfortunately, he appeared on the verge of insanity because I’d never met him in my life.

  I opened my mouth, prepared to tell him I was no one’s baby and he could shove that endearment up his clacker, when he shot me a warning glance. The sharp flash of intelligence skewered me before the lazy, amused glint returned to his eyes. “There you are. I was getting worried.”

  “Casey!” The security guard grinned, startling me with her sudden friendly demeanour.

  Casey? I mouthed, looking between the two as I tried to make sense of the situation.

  He returned her grin, dimples popping as he turned those flirty eyes on her like he knew her too. “Helen. How’s the move from Bankstown Police treating you?”

  Helen smoothed a hand over her tidy hairstyle, ensuring no strands dared stray from formation and then shrugged. “It’s a paycheque. How are things with you cowboys over at Jamieson and Valentine Consulting? Haven’t rolled any cars today?” She laughed loud and hard.

  My brows flew up. Cowboys? Jamieson and Valentine Consulting? Rolled cars?

  Smart enough to put two and two together, I realised this must be the Casey that was here with Travis to collect me and here I was, hiding in the restroom like the guilty drug runner I was accused of being. My face burned with embarrassment.

  Casey shrugged, keeping his smile as he said, “Can’t complain and not yet, but the day’s still young.”

  She laughed. The sound was so forceful you’d think it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. After ending it with an awkward wheeze, she nodded at me. “She’s with you?”

  He met my eyes briefly, the corners of his lips curving in a sexy smirk before he looked back at the security guard. “She’s with me alright. Is there a problem?”

  She paused for a moment and I wanted to slap her for accusing me of carrying drugs. “No problem. We received notification that your young lady might’ve been carrying drugs on her flight but we must’ve been mistaken. We know you boys don’t tolerate that shit.”

  With a wink, Helen slapped him on the back as she strode out of the restroom, pausing only to say, “You two take care now,” and she was gone. My jaw hit the floor. She was letting me go on his word alone?

  Before I could speak, my wrist was grabbed in a vice and I was manhandled from the restroom and shoved against the wall behind me. The sudden assault made my lungs burn and my pulse race in panic. I flattened my palms against his muscular chest and shoved, but he didn’t budge. The man was made of goddamn steel and damn, he was big.

  “If you don’t let me go,” I growled with menace, “I’m going to … to …” What, call security? Jesus. Somehow I’d gone from the frying pan into the fire.

  Think, Grace. You need an exit strategy.

  Casey pressed himself against me, wedging a firm thigh between my legs, effectively shutting down my struggles. The heat of his body was intense, and I felt sweat break out on my brow. Swallowing hard, I scrambled for my inner fearlessness and looked into his beautiful face. It was only inches from mine, his flirty eyes now flat and hard. He glared at me. It was so harsh you’d think I’d just punted a puppy across the room.

  “You bitch,” he ground out.

  Bitch? Me? This man had me a breath away from losing my shit. I didn’t know whether I should just bite him or
scream for help. Instead, I paused my struggles and narrowed my eyes, returning his glare with one so almighty it should’ve ruptured his veins. John would’ve been proud. “You asshole!”

  “I’m the asshole?” I growled.

  The smell of honey and vanilla drifted from her hair, invading my senses as she struggled to get loose. To my horror, the sweet scent and the press of her tits against my chest had my cock responding, waking up with a perkiness that would soon be obvious. Cursing silently, I shifted my hips backward.

  She glanced down at the bulge in my jeans before her wide eyes met mine. “You pervert!” she hissed. “Is this how you get off? Cornering innocent women inside airport toilets and rubbing all over them?”

  “Stop moving,” I ordered harshly and took a small step back without loosening my hold. Grace was right. I felt like a damn pervert. “I just saved your ass from getting arrested for carrying drugs, dammit. Travis and I were supposed to be picking you up, but I’m considering telling everyone you never arrived and sending you back home. We don’t want your kind hanging around.”

  “My kind? My kind?” Grace shot me a glare, her narrowed eyes darkening to rival the deep blue depths of the ocean. “Who the hell do you think you are? Batman? I hate to be the one to disillusion you, but this is not Gotham City, and no one appreciates your misguided vigilante type justice, least of all me. I am not carrying drugs, you idiot. You can search my bags if you don’t believe me. Hell, you can have my bags. I’m so freaking done with this day I don’t even care anymore!”

  Travis appeared beside me, scratching the back of his head as he assessed the situation.

  Nostrils flaring in anger, Grace cast him a quick glance and her brow arched sardonically. “Robin, I presume?”

  I shook my head, cursing at myself. I should have been prepared for this, despite my day starting off none too badly.

  I’d only just arrived at Jared and Evie’s house earlier for their Sunday barbecue before I was back in the car with Travis and on our way here to the airport. Frog, the bass guitarist with Evie’s band, had been in a car accident that morning. The outcome was a broken arm. With the band playing at the awards ceremony later tonight, it wasn’t looking good for them. Mac had been frothing at the mouth from stress, Quinn looked ready to pass out, and Evie was greener than she was yesterday.

  Arriving to the chaos had come as no surprise. The Jamieson and Valentine clan might have been my family, and don’t get me wrong, when everything was good with them, it was like the stars aligned and shimmery fairy dust fell from the heavens, but when it went to shit, it went there via the seventh circle of Hell.

  Taking that into consideration, offering to collect their replacement guitarist from the airport with Travis had seemed like a good idea, until Travis opened his mouth about last night.

  “You and Morgan?”

  I shook my head in answer, focusing my attention on driving rather than explaining myself.

  “Was she the one that went home with you on Friday night? You’re seeing her now?”

  “Calm the fuck down, Trav.” Stopping at a red light, I turned to face him. “If we’re going to have a gossip session about my night out, maybe we should start with the outfit I chose first before discussing whether I put out or not.”

  The light turned green and I accelerated, satisfied when the small burst of speed left the traffic behind me scrambling to catch up. The deflection would only work for so long. Travis and Coby had seen Morgan last night when I answered the door. The suggestive gleam in her eye and the overexposure of skin left no doubt to her intentions. Between that and the damn sex shop bag on the counter, it was obvious I’d been on board with those intentions.

  “So?” Travis waved his hand. “What did you wear then?”

  Smug sonofabitch.

  “Fine.” My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I hit Sydney’s M1 freeway and opened the car up. “I fucked her, okay? I may plan on doing it again. Do I need to check every potential fuck with you first and get your approval in duplicate?”

  “You know what?” Travis turned in his seat to glare at me. “Yes. You fucking do if you’re gonna pull shit like this. We have contracts with the government that includes the damn Sydney police. Our firm doesn’t need you going and poking your cock into the middle of all that. There is no doubt we will be dealing with her in an official capacity at some stage, and if she gets your customary brush-off, how are we supposed to trust her to have our backs? What is it, Casey, you like her that much she’s worth that kind of hit?”

  Travis took a deep breath. He sat there fuming in the passenger seat, waiting for my answer as I navigated through traffic and took the airport exit off the motorway. I didn’t have one. Well, not one that wouldn’t give away my intentions, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “If you’re just looking to get laid, find someone else,” he added, unwilling to leave it alone.

  Reaching the domestic terminal of Sydney airport, I found a spot and parked the car. Turning off the ignition, I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath as I stared out the windshield. Travellers moved at a rapid pace, wheeling their suitcases between cars and over the pedestrian crossings.

  “I’m not just looking to get laid. That’s the problem.”

  Travis furrowed his brow. “I don’t get it.”

  Yanking the keys, I got out of the car. Travis followed and I beeped the locks, shoving the keys in my jeans’ pocket. “She works cybercrime now,” I reminded him as we strode towards the building entrance. “You know how closed off those tech cops are.”

  After a moment, he mumbled, “Ah hell. You think by fucking her, she might be willing to instigate a search for the wiped information.”

  “No one else will do it,” I bitched. “As far as everyone else is concerned, the case was closed and the missing files are just one of those things that happen.”

  The pileup of cars waiting for pedestrians to cross was long. We both jogged over the crossing and towards the front doors. They whooshed open automatically, emitting cool air as we strode inside.

  “Let it go, Casey. It’s in the past. You can’t change it or fix it, and getting Morgan involved is going to make it all worse.”

  Anger burned in my chest. I grabbed his bicep, effectively halting him, and looked him in the eye. “Fuck you, Trav.” My jaw ticked as I fought to lock the resentment down. “It’s not that simple. How can I let go when I’ve lost everything already? If I had answers, then maybe I …”

  I, what? Could move on? Forgive myself?

  “You could what?”

  I shook my head and started walking again. “Let’s just collect whoever the hell it is we’re here to collect, okay?”

  In tense silence, we arrived at the gate and waited as passengers started flowing out. That was when I saw her walking directly towards us, a guitar case slung casually over her back.

  “Jesus,” I breathed, standing beside Travis as I took in the deep red tangle of hair flowing down her back and colourful tattoo that wound around the length of her bare arm and shoulder. Tiny black leather shorts displayed long slender legs that strode towards us with purpose. The blood in my veins heated as I fixed on her. My mind immediately had me bending her over from behind, pulling on that wild mass of hair, and yanking her head back as I thrust inside her, over and over. “Do you think that’s her?”

  Travis checked the photo Quinn messaged through to his phone so we’d recognise who we were collecting. “I think so.”

  She appeared oblivious to the people craning their necks to get a second glimpse of her, absorbed in her phone as her finger scrolled down its screen. For a second she glanced up and it was like getting punched in the gut. The girl wasn’t just beautiful—she was shock and awe. Her eyes locked on mine for a split second. They were a wild, stormy blue, and immediately I imagined her on her knees, those wide eyes staring up at me as I fucked her mouth.

  Who was I kidding? I’d have had her any which way. All I needed was a plan on how to g
o about it.

  I glanced at Travis. “Who is she?”

  “Henry’s sister apparently.”

  Henry wasn’t just lead guitarist for Jamieson, he was a friend. That instantly turned her from a quick fuck into a complication. Hell hath no fury like a brother protecting the virtue of his little sister. He would hack off my balls with a rusty spoon.

  Morgan, Morgan, Morgan, I silently chanted, reminding myself that I had no business building a harem, but my eyes were locked on her and wouldn’t budge. “What did Quinn say her name was?”

  Travis checked his phone again. “Grace.”

  Grace was … suddenly shouting into her phone. Her bag dropped at her feet as hurt and anger collided violently in her eyes. The abrupt disturbance began attracting attention. The general public began giving her a wide berth as they moved past. I heard her shriek “two weeks” into the phone, or it could’ve been “blue cheeks” for all I knew—we weren’t standing that close. She took in the airport at a glance and in an unpredictable turn of events, she seized her bag and made a rapid exit. Airport security moved in quickly, following her fleeing form.

  My mouth fell open as the scene unfolded before us. “What the fuck was that?”

  Travis shot me a look of wide-eyed disbelief. “I have no idea.”

  Grace disappeared inside the female restroom, the door banging shut in her wake. I was pretty sure I recognised the female security guard who was speaking on her radio nearby. After a minute, she followed Grace inside.

  “One day. Just one fucking day without a drama. Is it too much to ask?” I heard Travis mumble.

  I folded my arms. “You better go after her.”

  He raised his brows and mirrored my actions, creating a standoff. “No way. You go.”

  “Rock, paper, scissors?”

  Travis scowled. “Hell no. You cheat.”

  “Cheat?” My voice pitched a little high and I cleared my throat. “How the fuck can I cheat? It’s not like I can read your mind, Travis. Stop being a little bitch and go get her.”

  “A little bitch? You’re kidding, right? I married Quinn, for fuck’s sake. Mac is my baby sister. Evie is my sister-in-law. I live this drama every damn day. If you were any kind of friend—”