Chapter 27

Maverick

Ipaced the length of the clubhouse while my brothers stared at me in varying degrees of concern. I understood their worry because I was one of the most laidback brothers. I didn't let my emotions control me because I didn't get too invested in anything beyond the club. Women were a way to spend a few hours, not something to get crazy over. Not something to get invested in, to the point of distraction.

"You ready to talk yet?" Diesel's deep voice was even and calm, no trace of what he was thinking about my behavior.

"That fucking asshole. Grace's fucking husband."

"There's been no trace of him," Slate assured me. "Maybe he left town."

"He didn't." I stopped pacing just long enough to cut a dark glare at my brother before I returned to pacing, desperate to burn off some of this anger in a productive way.

"He's not—" Slate began.

"I know what the fuck you're saying," I told him. "But the asshole wouldn't leave without Grace and Sophie."

"I agree," Slate said calmly, like I was some sort of scared animal. "But he's probably lying low now that he knows Grace isn't alone. I'm expanding my search to the greater Vegas area just to be sure."

"He's still here, I know it." Hell, if Grace were mine, I wouldn't give up so easily either. "Have you checked those unincorporated towns around the city?"

"Can't, sorry." Slate shrugged. "Those towns are pretty much off the grid, and not just figuratively. I promise you, brother, that as soon as that fucker sets foot into the twenty-first century, I'll have him. We'll have him," he amended.

"I know, but until then, Grace and Sophie aren't safe, and I can't just keep them locked up in my house." As much as I wanted to.

"Go home," Diesel commanded.

His words brought me up short and I turned to my prez with a frown. "I'm fine. I can handle whatever needs to be handled." Did he think I couldn't do my goddamn job just because I was a little angry? Okay, angry as fuck.

"I know that, okay? But you're too fucking wound up, and, honestly, you're making the rest of us nervous."

I laughed. "You're shittin' me. Right?" I looked around to find each of my brothers shaking their heads in response. "I'm not allowed to be upset?"

"Of course you are," Rocky offered with a smirk. "But you're usually the one talking the rest of us from the ledge and it's freaky as fuck, man." Rocky's big arms spread wide an unapologetic shrug. "Sorry, bro, it's the truth."

"Well, fuck."

"It's cool, Mav. Just go home and keep them safe. We'll keep looking for him and deal with the other shit." Diesel's gaze was steady and unflappable. There was no arguing with that look.

"Yeah, okay. Fine." The last thing I wanted was to make things harder on my brothers. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." I was a fighter, and I knew when to fight and when to walk away. This was the time to walk away and be grateful for my family. "Thanks," I grumbled, and left the club house fueled by nothing but anger and the urge to protect.

***

I took the long route home, which basically meant another ten minutes, but it was enough to get myself under control. The last thing I needed was to rush inside full of piss and vinegar and scare Grace or Sophie. One last deep breath and I stepped inside the kitchen expecting to find the two females giggling while preparing dinner.

That wasn't what I found.

Grace stood in the middle of the kitchen shaking like a goddamn leaf, her gaze far off in the distance, staring at nothing at all.

Something is so fucking wrong. "Grace, what's up?"

She let out a startled scream and whirled to face me, a frown on her face. She blinked a few times and looked around the kitchen as if she didn't know how she got there. "Shit, sorry. Dinner isn't ready and I…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. Dinner will be on the table shortly."

My hands balled into fists and then I stretched my fingers out as far as I could, hoping to let out more of the anger that coursed through my veins. "Grace," I shouted.

She gasped and looked up at me, taking a step back.

No, fuck that. I advanced on her and gripped her shoulders. "Stop apologizing for shit you don't need to apologize for. I'm not worried about food, I'm worried about you. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing," she lied, shaking her head.

"I haven't asked you for anything, Grace. I'm happy to let you stay here and keep you safe. But the one thing I ask is that you don't ever lie to me."

Tears filled her eyes and her brow crinkled in the middle before her shoulders slumped forward. "I'm so—" She paused with a small smile. "You're right. I am sorry for lying to you."

"Just don't do it again. And tell me what you're lying about." I gripped her shoulders tighter because I needed her to know that I was here for her, and then let my hands slide slowly down her arms. "Talk to me."

Grace pulled out of my grip and turned towards the table with a sigh. Her gaze landed on an envelope in the center, which she snatched up and slapped into my hand. "Read it yourself."

It was just an envelope with hastily scribbled, slanted blue cursive on it, but it was the words that had shaken Grace so bad. "You can't run from me. I will always find you." Instead of my blood running cold, it turned into a white-hot fire, rage pulsed through my veins. "Where did this come from?"

"Trent," she whispered so low I could barely hear her.

"Obviously, but where did you find it, Grace?" This mean the asshole was closer than we thought.

"The free clinic," she whispered again. "Sophie has a cough and I needed to have her checked out because she's prone to respiratory infections. I had no choice, Maverick."

"Of course you didn't. Sophie comes first, I know that and I'm not blaming you, Grace. I just need details, that's all."

She sighed. "When we came out of the clinic, it was there under the windshield." She looked up at me with those wide eyes that could get me to do just about anything.

If only she would ask.

"He was following us, right?" She shook her head. "He had to be, but then why didn't he do anything? Why didn't he make a move?"

That's the same question I had. "Hang on." I pulled out my phone and called Slate, sharing the new info about Trent's whereabouts. "The free clinic. He was there this afternoon."

"About three o'clock," Grace offered in a shaky voice.

"Around three, so an hour on either side of that, and all the traffic lights between my house and the clinic." I ended the call and turned back to Grace, who was still trembling with fear, and wrapped her in my arms.

"Why?" The question came out on a sob, and I held her even tighter while she cried to my chest.

"Because he's an asshole who realized too late what he had in you." I kissed the top of her head. "Where is Sophie?"

"She's in her room drawing. I kept it together as much as I could on the drive back from the clinic and then sent her to her room, so she has no idea."

"Good. That's real good, Grace." I held her until she stopped trembling and then I held her a little longer just for me, which was stupid because now that she was calm, my body started to respond to her nearness.

She gasped and pulled back, looking up at me with a question in her eyes.

I shrugged like it didn't matter. "I'm a red-blooded man with a beautiful woman in my arms, it happens. And I've made no secret that I want you, Grace." There was heat and desire in her eyes, but I knew that wasn't what she needed right now, so as much as it killed me, I stepped back. "How about a drink?"

She nodded, her gaze fixed on my face. "Sounds good."

"Keep looking at me like that and I won't be responsible for what happens, Grace."

Her lips curled into a sexy smile. "Got it." She blinked and looked away, turning towards the cabinet to grab two glasses. "Ice or no ice."

"None for me. Ice for you."

She turned to me with one brow arched. "Why?"

"Trust me."

She shrugged. "I do."

Those words were exactly what I wanted and needed to hear, but they were also a warning that I needed to keep this woman safe. I had to. "Good." The word came out like a grunt as I reached for the bottle of bourbon on top of the fridge. "I'm about to do something I really don't fucking want to do."

Her eyes widened but she nodded and squared her shoulders before she took a seat at the kitchen table. "Um, okay."

I sighed and took the seat beside her, pouring two healthy gulps in each glass with my gaze focused on her face. I took a long sip and smacked my lips. "Okay, tell me about Trent."

She blinked. "That's not what I was expecting."

"Whatever you can tell me, I can use it to keep you both safe. So even if it doesn't seem important, tell me anyway."

"You sure?"

"Fuck no. All I want is to hunt him down and put him in a grave, but this is how I'll get to him. Talk."

Grace nodded and took one small sip and then another. And one more for courage before she started to speak. "I met him just days after I graduated from college, and he was handsome and charming. He swept me off my feet. The first time he hit me was on our honeymoon." She looked away and placed a hand on her cheek. "He was angry I didn't know about some band in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."

"Son of a bitch."

She nodded. "After that it didn't happen for a few more months, but over the first year he found more and more reasons. It got worse after I got my first real job, which I kept for about five months."

"What happened?" This wasn't exactly the way I wanted to get to know her, but nothing about us together was conventional.

"He beat me so bad one weekend that I couldn't go to work for more than a week and they fired me."

"I'm going to kill him, Grace."

She flashed a gentle smile. "He's not worth it."

"Maybe not, but you are. And Sophie is."

She looked away again and took another sip of bourbon. "Anyway, he works as middle manager in the accounting department at a law firm. He's well educated, and he comes from upper-middle class parents. He's all the things I now know men like him are prone to be, jealous and possessive, egotistical but somehow also wildly insecure. Mean."

"What you mean is that he's a fucking bully."

She nodded. "That too," she whispered and then finished off her drink before she stood abruptly. "It's getting late, and I need to get dinner started."

I guess that meant she was done talking about her ex.

That was fine with me, I was done hearing about the asshole. I was ready to find him and show him what it was like to be on the receiving end of a beating.