Chapter 29

29

Grace stood at the edge of Wyatt's sprawling property, where smooth snow gave way to a dense thicket of blue-tinged evergreens. The impressive glass and timber structure behind her appeared to melt into the rugged Alaskan wilderness. Wyatt clearly appreciated the untamed beauty of his surroundings and its hidden location. He had chosen this hermit lifestyle, whatever his reasons.

She waited until the growl of Caleb's truck had faded into the distance before fishing the burner phone from her pocket with numb fingers. The chill wind nipped at her exposed skin as she pressed her thumb against the power button.

Birds called above her head as she waited for the phone to wake, reminding her that soon it would be spring. The last few weeks had felt like an endless winter, the icy grip of her past refusing to loosen its grip. But meeting Caleb and the joy he had brought into her life, she dared to hope the spring of a new life was close on the horizon.

The phone buzzed to life in her palm. She took a deep breath and dialed the number she knew off by heart. Her lawyer, Smith. Anxiety clawed at her insides as she waited for him to answer and she paced a tight circle in the snow, her boots compacting snow with each agitated step.

The first ring seemed to stretch into eternity before a voice crackled across the connection. "Smith Waverly speaking." The familiar, clipped tones of Smith's English accent brought a surge of relief so intense it made her dizzy.

She sagged against the rough bark of a towering spruce, her knees weak. "Smith, it's me. Grace."

"Grace? Thank God. Are you alright? Where are you?" Smith's unflappable demeanor cracked. "Everyone is going crazy trying to find you."

She closed her eyes, the events of the past few days playing out behind her lids in a dizzying montage.

"Grace? Are you still there? Where the hell are you?"

Grace checked over her shoulder at Wyatt's home, where the expansive windows reflected the pale winter light. "Somewhere safe."

A frustrated sigh echoed from the other end of the line. "You can't stay on the run like this, Grace. You need to come in. Let us protect you."

She bit back a derisive snort. "What, so the police can protect me like they did at the safe house? The one Richard blew to smithereens?" The acrid stench of smoke and the searing heat of the flames flashed across her mind's eye. She squeezed her eyes closed, failing to block out the jagged shards of memory.

"That was... an unfortunate incident," Smith conceded, his voice heavy with regret.

"Unfortunate? I almost didn't make it. And Detective Miller wasn't so lucky." The phone was so hard against her ear it hurt.

Another sigh from Smith, a wearied exhale carrying the weight of responsibility. She pictured him behind his desk, flanked by towering stacks of paperwork, his scalp gleaming through thinning hair. Smith was a good man, but his hands were tied and not powerful enough. She was safer on her own. With Caleb.

"You need to come in where we can protect you, Grace."

I am protected. The words came to the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. There was no need for Smith to know about Caleb. The last thing she wanted was to drag him into the legal mess that hounded her. She faced so many dead ends, but she could protect him from this.

A hard edge crept into her voice. "Is the court case still set for the 6th in Seattle?"

"Yes—"

"I'll be there, Smith. Take care." She ended the call, air escaping her lungs in a rush.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she glanced over her shoulder. A discreet distance from her, Wyatt prowled the edge of his property. His tall, broad-shouldered frame was a dark silhouette against the plump pillows of snow-laden trees. A shiver skittered down her spine that had nothing to do with the biting cold. Caleb had placed her under the watchful eye of a formidable guardian, a man whose presence exuded the untamed ferocity of a wolf.

The sudden, shrill ring of her phone shattered her thoughts. Her heart slammed against her ribs in a staccato beat of panic and her phone landed in the snow with a muffled thud.

Fuck.

Her stomach twisted into knots as she picked it up, brushing snow from the screen.

The display glowed. Unknown caller.

No. It can't be him. It's impossible.

Her thumb hovered over the answer button, her breath hitching. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to ignore the call, to let it go to voicemail. But the fear churning in her gut wouldn't let her rest until she knew for sure.

She jabbed at the screen, bringing the phone to her ear with a hand that shook like a leaf in a storm. "Hello?" Her voice sounded reedy and unsubstantial.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. And then, the voice that haunted her nightmares. "Hello, Grace."

Richard. Even now, with miles and mountains between them, his voice was as suffocating as a physical touch.

Her throat worked convulsively, the words sticking. She was aware of Wyatt's footsteps crunching closer. "Richard."

"Ah, so you remember me."

"How did you get this number?"

"So business like." He sighed. "All I want is to take care of you, Grace. Why won't you let me do that?" His tone was gentle, almost reproachful, but there was steel beneath the velvet.

"You make your money off other people's suffering, Richard. I can't be part of that anymore."

"That's the way the world works, Grace. It's not my fault." He sounded so reasonable, so convinced of his own rightness. It made her want to scream.

"People have died. You had a choice. Even now, you could choose differently. Plead guilty of the charges against you. Face the consequences of your choices."

"I do choose, Sparrow. I choose you. Come back to me, and everything will be the way it was."

She hung her head, breathing deep, the old endearment making her skin crawl. "I can't, Richard. I'm not the person you want me to be. And I won't pretend anymore." She pushed the words out, each one a tiny victory against the fear that threatened to choke her. She turned the phone off and stared at it like it was something alien.

"Everything okay?" Wyatt's deep voice cut through her panic. He stood beside her, his powerful frame blocking the bitter wind that whipped across the snow.His unreadable eyes searched her face.

She turned away, not wanting him to see the terror that gripped her. "Yes. Fine. Um, I'm going inside. It's freezing out here." She jammed the phone into her pocket, the weight of it unbearable. With a jerky nod in Wyatt's direction, she headed back to the house, refusing to look over her shoulder.

These men had shown her only kindness, but she couldn't stay here any longer. Richard had found her at Caleb's cabin and now he had called her. He was close.

Despite everything, Richard had tracked her down. She should have known better. Safety was a fleeting illusion.

Locating her would only be a matter of time.