Page 16 of Fable Killer

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Her eyes widened at the use of her name, but then they clouded over, and he could tell she had almost passed.

Emmanuel gave one more twist of the knife, and Patrice made a choking sound before she went limp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“It didn't have to be this way,” he said again. He stood and carefully scooped her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laying her down. Emmanuel ran his hand over her hair once and then he left.

This would never have happened with Grace.

She wouldn’t have fought him.

She would have understood.

He had to get her back.

* * * * *

8:13 A.M.

She was bored.

Which was stupid given that she had spent the last several years stuck in the same room all day every day. At least on the good days, on the bad days she was taken down to the basement and forced to fight for her life.

But this morning Grace felt stronger, better. The wounds in her back were healing, the infection mostly gone, and she’d gotten enough sleep that her body was finally starting to recover from over five years of never sleeping properly. Her body had been used to living on an adrenalin high, she never slept properly, jumping at every small sound. Now that she was safe, she could finally shut down enough to actually rest and her body had taken advantage.

Today though she felt good, and she wanted out of this hospital room.

Grace didn't really know what was going to happen to her. Her house was long since gone along with most of her possessions. Before she’d been taken, she had been finishing off college, prepared to follow in Jeremiah’s footsteps and become a criminal psychologist.

Now she couldn’t see herself doing that.

No home, no job, no anything.

“Morning.”

She had been seconds away from falling apart as she realized that she might be alive, but her future was still every bit as uncertain as it had been when she was trapped in Emmanuel’s house, but at the sound of the voice she brightened. Boredom averted, melt down averted, thank goodness for Matthew Greer.

Despite her earlier melancholy, her smile was genuine when she turned from the window to see him standing at her hospital door. “How did you get past the guard dogs?” she asked. Her brothers and their wives were great, but they were being so protective of her that it was almost stifling. It wasn’t fair to be annoyed with them about it because she knew how much they had hurt and suffered when she was taken, how hard they had fought to find her, how scared they were to lose her again, but she needed freedom.

“Told them I had a question for you. I lied,” he said with a wink.

“Then why did you come?” she asked, curious. Matthew had been great with her yesterday, sensitive when he asked his questions, but also not pulling any punches. He hadn't sugar-coated things, and had treated her like she was strong and capable, not a helpless, fragile little victim. Not that she thought any victim who fell apart was doing anything wrong, in fact they were probably a whole lot healthier than she was playing things right now. But Emmanuel was out there, and she had to be strong, had to help the cops, so holding it together was a must.

“Breakfast.” He held up another bag, this one from a nearby diner that made some of the best pancakes around.

“Pancake Pete’s? They don’t do takeaway,” she said, but still crossed the room to take the bag.

“Talked them into it just this once.”

“Charmed them into it is more like it.” She opened the bag and inhaled the scent. Never before had she thought too much about the fragrance of food, it was always just there, but smelling the food, enjoying it, it was all part of the experience, one that had been denied her in Emmanuel’s house. Then she’d eaten not because she enjoyed it but because her body needed fuel. From now on, Grace wasn’t going to allow herself to take the small things for granted because it was the small things that made life … life, rather than just an existence.

“You think I'm charming?” Matthew waggled his eyebrows making her laugh. He was good at that, making her laugh.

“You know you are. I bet you turn on the charm anytime you want to get your way.”

“Guilty as charged.”

The grin he shot her was even more charming and she felt that same little tingle in her chest. “You bought a lot of pancakes. Do you think I'm going to be able to eat all of these by myself?”

He shuffled a little and she wondered what had made Mr. Charming all of a sudden nervous. “I thought I might have breakfast with you before I go to work.”


Tags: Jane Blythe Romance