“I’ll strew your guts out on this very floor, and the next female to enter this room will have the unfortunate experience of needing a therapist for the next forty years or so.”
“I don’t know if you’re crazy enough to do that, but here … take her.”
My feet are flying over each other as I’m forcefully shoved in Grant’s direction. Instantly, my forward momentum is halted by Grant as he catches me in his arms and draws me in tight.
The elevated inhales of his rib cage push into my body, and feeling him alive, hot, and angry against me allows me to breathe halfway normal. With my knees almost buckling, I lean completely into him and spin around so that I’m standing partially behind his body. The fine material of his suit wrinkles under my grip as I clutch it hard. I’m shocked I’m not tearing a hole in the fabric.
“You were warned, Seth.” Grant growls the words out, and that alone is threatening enough, but what makes my blood run cold is my eyes catching sight of Grant buttoning the middle button of his tux.
Seth breaks my train of thought by scoffing. “You can’t fucking touch me. I’m the biggest recruiter from Michigan to California. You kill me, and every runner, owner, and trafficker this half of the country is going to hunt you down.”
“Unwise,” Grant counters. “Every judge, senator, and casino owner in a 600-mile radius and half of the Seattle police squad lives in my pocket. Come after me, and you start a war against Washington.”
A jolt of shock volleys through my heart at how protected Grant is. Besides the Federal Government, it would seem we are untouchable. My chest swells at the thought.
“You fucking—”
“Goodbye, Seth.” We’re moving, and I can hardly keep up or feel anything coming from Grant.
I blink in shock, my legs numbly following Grant’s footsteps because they’re used to doing it.
Goodbye? That’s it, nothing more? I swallow back a gasp that’s a mixture of letdown and surprise as Grant quickly escorts me out of the bathroom after a quick retrieval of my other shoe and smoothing down my hair.
Part of my blood boils as we mingle into the crowd again. Dozens of women circle around us, unaware and unassuming—any of them could have been a victim tonight, and some probably are, we just don’t know it yet. Most of these women here probably don’t have a man like Grant protecting them.
Which is why Seth needs to be stopped, immediately. I tug on Grant’s sleeve, delaying our departure. He’s already whipped out his phone and put it away, and I assume he’s contacted Harold to come pick us up. We won’t be here much longer.
“Grant, we need to tell the police right now. Seth isn’t going to stop. He told me—”
“Do you trust me, Olivia?”
The question isn’t what I’m expecting. My hand drops from his body, and my mouth is halfway dangling open. “Why is this your first response?” My brows come together, nearly meeting in the middle. “You have my unconditional trust. You have to know that.”
“Then trust me to handle this.” He moves me in close to kiss my forehead and finishes his words in my ear. “We’re leaving and not telling a soul what happened. Not a whisper, or an inclination. Understand?”
“Yes,” I say it, trusting him fully yet no less stunned.
He gently pulls on my wrist, winding me through the crowd. As the ladies’ bathroom draws more distant, circumstances begin a wicked catch-up.
Holy fuck, I was almost abducted and forced into a trafficking ring. My posture crumbles from the stunning realization as a heaviness slows down my muscles.
By the time we reach the curb outside, my legs threaten to snap back with each forward motion, and I sense the glaze in my vision as I stare blankly at the concrete.
“Liv, darling? Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No.” My tone is blank. “Not really.” I feel my brows scrunch together when I think of Grant’s actions in the bathroom. “You didn’t even touch him for kissing me.”
“Anyone can do that, Olivia. Don’t think for one second that my first impulse wasn’t to do just that. But control is a much more powerful weapon.” Gently, he strokes my hair. “Learn to harness that, and you’ll be unstoppable.”
There’s the screech of the limo tires trudging somewhere in the air. Then there’s my limbs falling totally limp as Grant picks me up—one arm secure behind my back, the other holding me under my legs.
He’s cradling me, walking down a palace worth of stairs with no huffing or grunting. The back-and-forth sway of his pace unravels the last bit of nausea in my stomach, and I lean the side of my head against his shoulder.
Upon reaching the base of the stairs, I hear the familiar staggered and off-beat click-clack of Harold’s shoes, and the limo door pulling open.
“Home. To the one on Mercer Island, immediately. Run lights if you can,” Grant orders, and he climbs inside, still keeping me to him on his lap as I curl into him.
Mercer Island. We’re going to his personal estate; his haven away from the city. I’ll be staring out the window to see Lake Washington. I’m thankful for that. Grant must think we both need the space. We go there after stressful work weeks to unplug and detach from the world when we need too.
And I need that.
I don’t notice how heavy the silence is, or the numbness of my extremities, until Grant breaks the silence with his raspy voice.
“Olivia, please say something. You haven’t spoken since we left the building.”
I sigh, and it swirls thick in the cabin. “I’m sorry. I’m just processing.”
“Quite an underwhelming word considering what I walked in on.”
“What made you come in there at all?”
“You were gone for too long. I know you take breaks at parties, but so much time passed that I grew concerned. Something told me to go check on you.”
“Thank God you did.” I cling to his jacket, a second wave of nausea tidal-waving in my stomach. The sensation doesn’t last long. Pressing my ear to his body, the steady beats of his heart finally bring my own pulse back to life. There’s warmth in my veins again as my rhythmic beats tap against my wrists.
“Do you want anything? A drink, or—”
“Just this. Please…” My voice is hoarse, mirroring my spirit. “Just hold me please, and don’t let go.”
He settles fully into the seat, but I feel the tenseness of his muscles coursing underneath it all. Naturally, he’s on edge, but this feels like more than just the situation with Seth.
Making a small circle on the front of his tux jacket, I look up at him through my lashes. “What’s wrong?”