Page 54 of Saving Grace
“What’s wrong, Grace?” His concern turned to alarm as an obvious shudder ripped through her.
“It’s from him,” she whispered, looking past Matt to frantically search the surroundings.
“Troy?”
“The Reaper!” she cried hoarsely as her teeth clattered.
Cassie grabbed the note from her and read it aloud: “My beautiful Grace, I crave for another taste of your lips and much more.”
“Come on.” Matt grabbed Grace’s upper arm and shoved the flowers to Cassie. “Get the note and these flowers to Trent. We’ve yet to make a statement about last night’s break-in to the Sheriff’s Department. I want to get to the bottom of this.” Instincts told him that waiting out Grace’s amnesia was no longer an option. Turning to Roger, he barked, “Call Troy. I want him at the loft as soon as possible.”
“Yes, boss.”
“As soon as possible, Roger,” he repeated.
Matt didn’t speak to Grace as he marched her back to the apartment. Speculations buzzed in his head and every conclusion he ended up with only fueled his infamous temper.
“Kitchen,” Matt said tersely as they entered the loft. He sat her down, albeit gently, on the chair by the dining table. He then went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
“Drink this.”
“I’m not thirsty,” Grace replied. She was still ashen but at least she’d stopped trembling.
“Drink. Or I’m pouring this down your throat.”
Grace glared at him as some color returned to her cheeks. Good.
“You have an odd way of showing you care,” she groused before taking a sip out of the bottled water.
Matt half-sat on the kitchen table, never taking his eyes off her. “Oh, I care, but it’s hard to show how much when you’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
“I wasn’t,” Grace argued, taking a gulp of water. “I didn’t think it was important.”
“I’ll decide what’s important,” Matt countered. “All you’ve told us so far is that The Reaper held you at gun point and needed something from you, but before he was able to tell you what it was, Roger interrupted.”
Grace swallowed hard, her lips trembled, and Matt hated to see the look of fear on her face. The Mexican hitman frightened her.
Matt exhaled deeply, got up from the table, and crouched in front of her. “Babe, I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me everything. We need to know what he’s after.”
“He kissed me,” she said so softly, he almost didn’t hear her.
“Go on,” Matt said, trying to keep his voice level even as a barrage of emotions warred inside him.
“He said he wanted to fuck me, but he also wanted to slice the skin off my body.”
Matt pushed back to his feet as his blood chilled while anger heated up his face. Grace’s bleak eyes followed his movement before gazing up at him.
“He said he was obsessed with me.”
“Fuck.”
“He said smelling my fear makes him hard.”
“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Matt spun away from Grace to hide the fury on his face. Scorching anger replaced the ice in his blood.
“I was afraid,” Grace continued speaking in monotone. “If I don’t talk about it, it doesn’t seem real, but the roses … the roses …” her voice cracked, snapping Matt out of his whirlpool of murderous rage. Now wasn’t the time to lose it.
He spun around and knelt before her again, this time gathering her into his arms. “It makes it real,” he finished for her. They sank to the floor as he cradled her in his lap.