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No matter how uncomfortable it made her.
Maria might’ve been the first person Sly buzzed, but she wasn’t the only one.
Rick was in the middle of a set when his radio went off. Because Grace promised her afternoon to her students, he was spending his downtime in his personal gym, trying to exhaust himself so that he didn’t jump the woman before their date. He wanted to take her out of Hamlet for a proper night out, spend the evening without a hundred curious eyes watching their every move.
Just the other day, he walked in on Willie gossiping over the line with Bonnie Mitchell, the two of them organizing some kind of wedding pool. To his ever-loving embarrassment, he discovered he and Grace were the talk of the whole village. And, after growing up there and living most of his life with these people, he expected something like this. Even so, it was a shock to find out that the matrons of Hamlet were already trying to marry him off.
What worried him even more? He… didn’t hate the idea. It felt right, thinking of Grace Delaney as his wife one day.
One day, he stressed to himself as he counted off his reps, the radio chiming from somewhere below his bench.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Rest.
With a heft, he lifted the bar up and settled it on the rack above him. Metal clanked against metal as the weight bench jolted under the heavy weight. He was back up to pressing three fifty. Another fifty pounds and he’d match his limit from his PT days.
Parking his butt on the bench, Rick reached beneath it, snatching the communicator. There was only one person it could be since it was set to his private line. Grace didn’t have a radio of her own yet, and the only one with access to his channel was Sly. And Sly would only buzz him if it was important. He had to take this page.
He squeezed the receiver. “Hart speaking.”
Crackle. “Rick? Hey Rick?” Sly’s voice came through the transmitter, deep and resonant. “Do you copy?”
“Affirmative. What’s going on? I’m off duty, but if you need me down at the station house, give me a sec to shower and yank on my uniform. I can be there in fifteen.”
“I’m not calling my deputy in. I’m calling in my friend. Rick, buddy, you need to get your ass down to Ophelia’s as soon as you can.”
Rick jumped to his feet. “Maria need help?”
“It’s not Maria. It’s your Grace.”
His blood ran cold. Clenching his radio in his fist, he crushed the side, jamming his fingers against the button. “What’s happened to her? She was supposed to be safe inside of Maria’s place. No one was supposed to get to her there. Damn it, Sly! What happened?”
“I don’t know. I’d tell you if I could—I just got the buzz myself and I’m way past mountainside, dealing with a cat in a tree. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done, but I figured you’d want to go now. Report is that she’s had some kind of spell. First on scene couldn’t say much, and I’ve already got Maria outside making sure she’s doing okay. She’s not in trouble, Rick. She’s… I think she’s sick. Something’s definitely not right.”
Sick. Okay. Better than the first thought that popped in his head—that the bastard that kept her running had finally caught up with her. He didn’t like it, though. A spell? What the hell did that mean?
“Sick? Like how? Food poisoning? An allergy? What am I heading into here?”
The radio went silent for a second, before the soft echo of background noise—and one high-pitched yowl from a frightened cat—filtered through the communicator. Sly stayed quiet a moment longer, as if picking the words he wanted to say.
Finally, he sighed. “She needs you, Rick. And, not gonna lie, I think it’s in the same way Maria needed me after Turner
. We both know she’s in trouble. We’ve been doing our best to shield her from it, keep her safe in town. It was only a matter of time until something like this happened.”
Sly was right. Rick hated to admit it, but he was right.
That’s exactly what he was afraid of. Mack Turner was a menace who still affected Maria two years after he died in an accident as he raced out of time. Grace’s faceless, nameless specter haunted her in ways Rick couldn’t understand. But he wanted to. He needed to.
Grace was his now. Not just an outsider, not just a friend. A lover, and the woman he wanted to love and honor and, if he had to, protect with everything he had in him.
“Roger that. I’m on my way.”
He didn’t waste time saying goodbye or signing off on his channel. Changing out of his muscle shirt and sweats? Nope. Pocketing his radio, he grabbed his keys and sprinted for his truck.
19
Good thing he was one of Hamlet’s deputies. He slapped the siren on top of his cab and took off. Even if he passed anyone on the road, no one would have dared stop him.
