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“I can get their papers from the glovebox. We kept them handy in case we got pulled over. You typically need to have their records in order to bring horses across state lines.”
“We won’t need any papers for Nelson. Just something realistic enough to fake him out.” I open the door, hold it for her to enter, and then escort her through the kitchen, through the living room, and down into my office.
Closing the door, even though Tobin is the only other person in the house, I take off my jacket and toss it on the leather couch against the wall.
Although I hate to ruin the lightheartedness that was there while we’d been walking to the house, it’s time to get serious.
“Now that you’re here and we can talk in private…I’ve got a few questions I want answered first. What’s really going on? Bottom line with the hyenas looking to eat you alive?” I ask.
Her hands pause as she’s removing her coat. She glances up, a blue-eyed mess of surprise.
“I’m not stupid, Grace. I know scum when I see it. The men in that alley wanted to take you, kicking and screaming if they had to. That’s a pretty fucking brazen thing to do in broad daylight. Whatever it is they want, they must want it bad.” I lean against the edge of my desk. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me what they’re after and where they wanted to take you.”
She finishes removing her coat, drapes it over the back of a chair, and lifts her chin, looking at me with fresh fortitude. “You think I don’t know that? I knew they’d get me in their vehicle any way they could, but I don’t know where they would’ve taken me. Probably back to Milwaukee, or wherever hole in the wall that creep hides in. I never knew and Dad never told me.”
“Define that creep. Something tells me you don’t mean Jackknife, darlin’.” I level a dense stare at her, waiting for more.
She glares right back, without backing down.
Damn. Knowing she’s part wildcat just makes this harder.
Despite it all, I like her backbone. Respect it.
I also know a way around it.
“I’m not here to badger your father. He’s old. He’s tired. He’s sick. That’s why I’m coming to you, asking for something more I can go on to help besides just screwing around with a truck that won’t get you anywhere but Trouble, USA.”
She looks away, blinks, pinching her lips together until they turn white.
“Grace. I’m not asking for the moon. Don’t I deserve a few answers?”
“No argument about that,” she says, lifting her chin again as if that gives her potency. “But the thing is, I don’t have them.”
“Bull. I can’t believe that. The creep you’re talking about is some kind of head honcho back home, isn’t he?” My fingers stretch, pushing against my desk.
Her eyes are full of hopelessness as she shakes her head, shrugs, and looks away again.
She’s already admitted that her father had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd, and I know for damn sure that someone in that crowd wants her. Today was more proof.
Anger roils my stomach.
The worst part is, it’s hard to stay mad when she looks as innocent as she does. This fiery slip of a woman breathing up a storm as she glares at me, defiant as ever, making my dick ache to take her over my knee.
And yeah, I’m conscious of how fucked up that is to think when I’m busy trying to save her life.
Sighing, I push off the desk and walk around it, then tap the mouse to wake up the computer screen and see if Faulk sent anything new. Something I can use to ease the truth out of her.
No new messages. It only increases my frustration.
“Dammit, Grace, what is it? What do they want? Drugs? Guns? Money? Diamonds?” Fuck, I don’t know, I’m grasping at straws. “Are you hauling shit for them? Playing mule?”
Her head snaps up at the word mule and genuine fear whips across her face.
“No,” she snaps. “We’re just trying to get away.”
I study her flashing blue eyes, sense that she’s telling me the truth through her hot anger. Which just makes this more baffling than ever.
“Who are you running from? Give me a name.”
She bows her head, the spark in her eyes fading as she presses a hand over her mouth.
Now I’ve done it.
The tiny, strangled sob she chokes out makes me feel like absolute shit.
Sure, I want my answers, but not by grinding her down to a pulp for them.
She’s had enough of that. It’s been obvious from the beginning.
I cross the room, rubbing my hands softly up her arms.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I went too far. I’m just trying to figure out what we’re up against, how I can make it fuck off and leave you alone. Those idiots aren’t going away. Today proved it.”
