36. Grayson

Grayson

I sit at Maggie's computer, my eyes straining against the bright glare of the purple lights on Maggie's tower. Though I know she's freaking out, I've dealt with the lights as long as possible. The look on her face after I kissed her in the laundry room is burned into my mind. Too much, too fast, my brain screams at me. Henrietta is wonderful, but to a person who isn't used to getting help, she's a bit… overwhelming.

But right now, I'm going to get a migraine if I don't figure out how to turn the lights down. I quickly send a text to Maggie, asking how to turn them off. Her response is prompt, and I sigh in relief as the room dims to a more tolerable level.

I'm checking the surf shack's account balances and making sure the deck fees for the tour company are paid. It's only supposed to take a few minutes, but when I find out Roger hasn't filed our tour schedule with the marina, I decide to do it myself.

From the living room, I hear the sounds of George playing happily with the newly assembled Batmobile. Since Sam, Tilly, and Miranda drove up, the women have split up. Sam is here with me, helping keep an eye on George while the others have gone to get Harry's home fixed up for him.

A knock at the door jolts me from my thoughts. My body tenses instinctively before I get up from my chair. Peeking out from the doorway, I watch as Mack checks the peephole before he answers the door. A moment later, he calls for me.

Walking down the hall, my heart pounds in my chest. Standing in the doorway is my wife, Suzannah, the woman whose disappearance turned my world upside down. A wave of rage surges through me, raw and unfiltered.

"George, go play in the bedroom, buddy," I say, my voice strained.

"Gray—" Sam says softly behind me. I know she's ready to jump in, though I don't know what she would do.

"Daddy, who's that?" George asks. I have to fight to keep my voice calm.

"Go with Sam and see if Gam Gam left anything in the bedroom to play with."

Reluctantly, George gets up and stomps away. Once my son is safely out of earshot, I stare at my wife.

"Mack, we're fine here." He asks if I'm sure, and I nod. Whatever Suze is here for, I don't think it's to hurt me. As soon as he's back with the others, I ask, "How did you know where we were?"

"Maybe I'm not here for you, Gray. Ever think about that?" I scoff at her sharp words. For some reason, hearing my nickname come from her mouth has my chest tightening even more. She looks awful. Her clothes are smudged and stained, her face a mask of impassive stone.

"Then why are you here?"

"I was looking for Detective Parker. To talk," she admits, her words soft.

I point to the couch. "Then sit and talk." We both take a seat but are quiet, an ocean of unspoken words between us.

Suze looks at the ground. "He's gotten so big," she murmurs.

I bite back a retort, my emotions a tangled mess. Before I can say anything, she buries her face in her hands, sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Gray." I don't move or let my expression change. No matter how she looks or sounds, I'm simply too angry to have any sympathy for her. Instead, I listen as Suze speaks of her regrets.

"I just… I don't know how to deal. I never have. And it was all too much. Your stupid family, the way they kept tightening the noose." At those words, I jump to my feet, my face flushing with warmth.

"Tightening the noose? You were pulling out thousands of dollars from our account to spend on pills! We were going to be homeless if I let it go on. And I was worried. Christ, Suzannah. I thought you were going to end up dead under a bridge!" I'm shouting but can't help it. Her perception is so skewed, and I have to correct it.

"I know! Don't you think I know? I… need help."

Fuck. All the fury drains away in an instant. My pregnant wife—or ex-wife, more accurately—is a broken woman.

I let out a long breath and plop onto the couch next to her. "Suzannah, I can't help you. But I know people who can." Her crying grows more hysterical at my words, and I put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to me.

As I do, she winces. "Are you hurt?" I ask.

Suze clams up, tears stalling in her eyes. As she wipes them away, I notice a bruise on her upper arm. My protective instincts kick in.

"Who's hurting you?" I demand, my voice rising.

Suze breaks down, her sobs wracking her body. "If he finds out, he'll kill me," she gasps between tears.

My heart races. Someone is beating a pregnant woman, my family. Whether I like it or not, Suzannah and I are bound together for life through our son. I'll be damned if I let someone hurt the mother of my child.

"Show me," I demand.

Suzannah lies back on the couch, grimacing in pain. I gently lift her shirt, revealing a chest covered in bruises. My worry dissipates, replaced by a deep, aching sorrow. A monster has done this. Someone sick and disgusting. I know the reality of humans. The fact is, women are more likely to be abused and injured by their intimate partners while they're pregnant. The highest cause of death for pregnant women? Suicide and homicide.

Right now, that's grating on my mind. I know the statistics, usually I like numbers. But I never thought it would happen to someone I care for.

"Don't move," I say.

I grab my phone and go to the second bedroom. After instructing Mack to keep an eye on Suzannah, I go into the master and call Maggie. She answers on the first ring.

"Really, Gray? You can't figure out a switch on the computer?" It takes me a moment to even understand that she's talking about the lights I texted about before. Though the conversation happened maybe twenty minutes ago, it feels like a lifetime.

"Suzannah is here."

The line is quiet. "Maggie?"

"Is she okay?" How the hell does she know Suzannah is in trouble? My beautiful detective constantly surprises me, but I don't have time to enjoy the realization. I quickly explain the situation.

When I'm done, Maggie's voice comes through the phone, calm and authoritative.

"She's asking for help?" I confirm that she is, and Maggie takes a deep breath. "I'm sending an ambulance, and we'll get her in a program. There are a ton of secret ones in LA, so that will keep her safe too. But Gray, she needs to tell us something in return."

"I'll get her to open up," I say, though I don't know how it will happen. "I love you, Maggie."

"Love you too, Gray. I'll be right there."

I hang up, tuck my phone away, and go back to the living room. Suzannah is looking around, her eyes seeming to take everything in. It's fairly clear that there's a child living here. His things are everywhere.

"You live here… with her." It's a statement of fact, her face unreadable.

"George and I moved in because of the contract on my life, yes." But Suzannah isn't stupid; she can read between the lines.

"Because you love her, not for whatever fake reason you've drummed up in your head. You want to be here."

I put a hand on my forehead and try to quell my discomfort. Hurting her is not what I want, regardless of what she's done.

"Yes, Suzannah. Maggie is a wonderful woman. She makes George and I very happy."

"I want you happy." She gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

I see my opportunity and pounce on it, scooting closer to her. "Then help me stop him. If you tell us he gave you the money, then we can—"

After some hesitation, Suze agrees silently. "It was Don. All of it."

"How, Suzannah? Please, tell me the whole story. I need to know."

"Gray, you know how charming Don has always been. A giant flirt, even when we were married," she says.

I nod. At the time, I thought it was completely innocent. We hardly ever saw him except at family gatherings.

"We were still together the first time Don and I…" She clears her throat and adjusts on the couch, closing her eyes as if recounting the story is painful. "He invited me out for drinks and gave me some cocaine. It was my first time trying it, and I felt amazing. I know you probably don't get it, but when you feel so down for so long and something comes along that just perks you up and makes you feel so alive…"

I don't know if she's talking about the drugs or Don. Her face has lightened, even with her eyes closed as she describes the initial days of sneaking around with Don.

I feel a white-hot rage consume me as she continues to explain how Don had charmed her, supplied her with drugs, and manipulated her.

"When you turned on the family, he went on the run. I helped where I could. By that time, I was pretty well hooked on all sorts of things. Sleeping around for my next fix, trying to keep him from knowing. He started working for Axe."

When Suze explains how Don hit her, her voice gets shaky. "The first time he hit me, it was like the floodgates had opened. His true colors popped through." Tears start falling as she continues. "Then he found out I was pregnant. I don't know who told him. Probably Chewy or Axe." She sniffles and hangs her head. "It's Axe's baby." There's so much pain in her voice that my hand rubs her back of its own accord. Anger is still there, but this is a broken woman who has been through so much. I can't stop myself from caring. I'm human.

"Your grandfather told him about the life insurance. I don't know when." She hugs onto her own arms, cheeks glistening with spilt tears. "He threatened me and the baby to get me to help. You die, I show up to claim the money. The life insurance would get him out of debt and he promised to leave me alone." My fists clench as I listen, my brother's betrayal cutting deeper than any physical wound.

"Where did the money to pay the gangs come from?" I ask, barely able to contain my fury.

"Loan shark named Tony Felt, who I am sure is looking for him now too. I saw him four days ago, and he looked terrible. That's when he did this." I shake my head, my entire body trembling with her story.

"Where is he now?" I ask, hardly able to contain the fury in my voice. Her shoulder shakes with silent cries as she shakes her head. "Suzannah, if you ever loved me, if you ever loved George, you have to tell us!" I yell, finally using every tool in my arsenal. If she won't tell me after that, I know it's no use trying to get anything else from her.

"Hiding in San Diego," she whispers through her silent tears.

Before I can ask another question, Maggie comes in through the front door. I give her a sad look, and she stiffens her spine. Maggie is back, and she's going to help me fix this disaster.