Chapter 10

10

Grace jolted awake with a gasp, her heart battering her ribs. She was in a sunlit room she didn't recognize, alone in a king sized bed.

Breathe.

She hissed out a slow breath as fragments of the previous night fell back into place in her sleep-disordered mind. Caleb. Dolly. The looming threat of Alex and his men. Safety. Her fingers dug into the softness of the red comforter.

A shrill shriek pierced the wash of golden morning light. Grace jackknifed upright and tumbled out of bed. She landed heavily on one knee and knocked her injured wrist.

Hell. She clutched her hand to her chest, sucking in short gulps of air as she waited for the sickening pain to lessen. It was most likely a sprain, but impossible to tell without an X-ray. Well, that's not happening.

A loud crash sent a wave of dread coursing through her veins. Alex is here.

Heart still thudding, she cast a glance around the room, searching for a weapon. Knife. She scooted across the wooden floor, pulled her boot toward her and retrieved the sheathed blade, calmed by its familiar weight. She exhaled slowly, willing her pulse to slow.

Another crash echoed from downstairs and her pulse jacked higher.

What the hell?

She should have known better. She shouldn't have accepted his help. Caleb had offered her sanctuary and in return, she'd brought only trouble to his door. She had to help him. Summoning every ounce of courage, she crept to the edge of the loft floor, her heart pounding in her ears like a drumbeat of impending doom. She peeked over the edge. She could only see the kitchen, and it was empty. No sign of anything untoward.

Nothing else for it. She would have to go down.

Okay. It's okay. I can do this.

Her thoughts rattled in her head as she turned, placing her bare feet on the rungs, uncomfortably aware of the fact that her back was to the room. With a shaky breath, she descended, muscles tensed for confrontation.

Just past halfway down, a piercing scream shattered the silence, causing her to jerk. Her fingers slipped free, and she windmilled like crazy, then pain exploded through her body as she hit the floor. Fiery agony licked the length of her left arm. God. She curled into a ball, her vision foggy with tears.

Heavy boots thudded toward her. "Grace? What the fuck?"

Caleb.

One strong arm looped around her waist while the other gripped her good forearm and lifted her to her tiptoes with a powerful tug that brought her snug against his chest, The length of her body fitted perfectly to the hardness of his, his breath kissing the top of her hair.

For a fleeting moment, the world stopped. Her pain retreated and in that instant something unfamiliar coursed through her veins—a longing for connection with this man she'd only just met, for reassurance in this madness she called her life.

"Everything ok? Whoa. Did I interrupt something?" The voice was masculine. Similar to Caleb's rich drawl, but different.

The sudden interruption shattered the tense atmosphere like a bullet. Grace froze, her arm still extended, sunlight glinting off the blade of her knife. Caleb's grip on her forearm tightened, pulling her hand down as he disarmed her with practiced ease.

Turning, Grace met the gaze of a second man. Intimidating blue eyes studied her from under dirty blond hair the color of wet sand, too long at the back and brushing his collar. The man from the grocery store parking lot.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position. "I…I heard screams. I heard screams…"

Rapid footsteps broke the tension as a small girl, wielding a pink lightsaber, toddled into view. "Daddy. Unca Cale," she chirped, waving the toy weapon enthusiastically.

"Hey, sweetie." The man with the piercing blue eyes caught hold of the girl's hand. The smile he shot Grace transformed his face with boyish charm. "Ellie has that effect on people. I'm sure she could shatter glass given half the chance."

Grace pushed loose hair off her burning face, struggling to compose herself. What had she been thinking? How had she mistaken a toddler's screams for something bigger and more dangerous?

"Grace. This is my brother, Ryder." Caleb gestured.

"Um… Hi." Grace offered a mortified wave.

"And this little pipsqueak is my niece, Ellie," Caleb continued. "She's the owner of the blood-curdling screams and has been happily trashing my cabin with her lightsaber."

Ellie released her dad's hand and rushed over to Caleb. She grabbed his leg and pushed her face into his trousers, her chubby fists clutching the fabric. "Up, Unca. Up."

Caleb pocketed Grace's knife, then scooped Ellie up into his arms and tickled her under the chin. She giggled and wriggled, balanced easily on one bicep.

Ryder grinned. "You're a sly one, Caleb, giving me all the ‘I'm happy living life on my own' crap."

Caleb looked up. "What? No. I helped Grace when her car broke down in the middle of the night."

Her breath hitched. Had he told Ryder about Alex and his men?

Ryder grinned, showing off perfect teeth. "Of course. You just helped the damsel in distress."

Caleb shook his head but remained silent.

Grace swallowed the irrational pang of disappointment that surged through her at the dismissive way Caleb dismissed any notion of there being something between them. She caught sight of herself in the mirror opposite. She was a disheveled mess, still wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing last night, tearing through the forest. No wonder Caleb was so quick to clarify.

Caleb moved into the kitchen, Ellie still perched on his arm. "Grace? How does coffee sound?"

His sudden movement jolted her back to the present. She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but here. It might be lonely, but at least it wasn't awkward. "That would be lovely, thanks."

Caleb gestured toward the stool where she'd sat last night. He poured a mug of coffee and pushed it toward her. "Can Ryder look at your wrist?"

"Um…" Grace hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden influx of hospitality. The fewer people she had contact with, the better, and that was not the way this morning was panning out.

Ryder offered her his hand with a charming smile. "Hi. We haven't properly met. My brother is such an ass. I'm a medic. Caleb said you hurt your wrist yesterday."

"Yes…I fell on it."

"Why don't you sit down and let me look at that." Ryder's voice was gentle as he reached down and lifted an orange emergency case from beneath the counter. It was emblazoned with the Coast Guard shield she'd seen previously on Caleb's shirt.

"You're a Coast Guard too?"

"Uh, huh." He held out his hands. "I promise my hands are warm."

On the opposite side of the counter, Ellie was giggling as Caleb pretended to hunt for cookies. He opened one kitchen cabinet after another, while she shouted. "In the tin, Unca Cale, me like in da tin!"

"She's lovely. How old is she?"

Ryder shot a loving glance at his daughter. "Two going on forty." He carefully rotated her wrist, and Grace gave a sharp intake of breath. "Sorry. Did that hurt?"

"A little." Grace forced a smile, trying to mask her discomfort.

He pushed up her sleeve, checking the line of her forearm, exposing the purple bruises that marked her upper arm. Fingerprint bruises.

Crap. Grace snatched at her sleeve and tugged it down. She avoided Ryder's gaze, focusing on the counter, anywhere but at the questions in his eyes. This was why she didn't accept help. People asked questions and everything became dangerous and complicated.

A cry of triumph came from the opposite side of the counter. "Daddy. Unca Cale. Cookie!" Ellie held up a cookie, triumphantly perched on Caleb's shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Blonde waves framed her pixie face and Grace wondered what her mother looked like. Beautiful, if she was anything like Ellie.

Richard had never wanted children and so she had never allowed herself to consider what it might be like. It was too painful and what was the point of enduring pain for thinking about something that would never happen? She touched her belly with tentative fingers. Richard had made sure of that.

Ryder wagged a finger at his brother. "Caleb, I've spoken to you before about the C word."

Caleb winged one eyebrow at Ryder and kissed the top of Ellie's head as she munched. "Favorite uncles are excluded from all your rules and regulations."

Ryder turned his concern back to Grace. He'd seen the bruises. It was clear in the furrow between his brows. "You need to get that checked out with an X-ray. Make sure there's no broken bones. I can't tell just by looking or manipulation."

"Sure." Grace nodded mechanically, her mouth dry. She needed to escape, to flee from well-meaning inquiries and offers of help. The net was closing in around her, and she couldn't bear the thought of entangling these kind-hearted people in her dangerous reality.

"Caleb can take you." Ryder snapped his medical case shut.

"Sure," Grace repeated, her mind spinning with the need for a plan, for a way out.

Ryder lifted Ellie from Caleb's shoulders. "Come on, Pumpkin. We need to go. Daycare beckons." He shrugged a coat over her shoulders and pulled a hat onto her head.

"Grace, it was a pleasure to meet you." He dipped his head at her, then faced his brother so she couldn't see his expression. "Caleb, a word." He jerked his head to the front porch and headed out with his daughter.

Caleb raised a finger to Grace. "I'll be right back. Don't move."