Her pain was like a physical thing, filling the car’s interior. How could he say no to her? “You drive out of here then. I don’t want you getting hurt. For all we know this was his plan. Set the fire, wait for me to go to help, leaving you alone and vulnerable. I won't let him get you, Grace, not for anything. So, you drive to the gas station around the corner. Go inside and wait for me, call 911, and explain what's going on.”
“Thank you.” She leaned across the center console to kiss him, and he curled his hands into her hair and held her there, deepening the kiss. “Be safe,” she said when he released her.
“You too.”
Even though it felt wrong, he got out of the car and watched as Grace climbed over the console and into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t until she had driven off down the street and he was certain no one had driven off after her, that he turned and hurried toward the house.
The fire was raging, but it was burning slowly, it didn't look like an accelerant had been used. Chances were, Emmanuel hadn't come with the plan of setting a fire. He’d obviously tracked Grace here, then watched for a while, noticed that the house opposite the safehouse had cops in it and decided to get them out of the way. If he hadn't planned on starting a fire, what did he use to set it?
Was Emmanuel a smoker?
No, Grace would have mentioned that.
One of the cops providing back up was a smoker though, chain smoked a dozen packs a day. Had Emmanuel used Officer Lennon’s lighter?
Scanning the garden, he noticed a lump near the hedges, so he headed in that direction. As he neared it, he saw it was the two officers, both were unconscious, blood on their heads, but when he checked their pulses both were strong. From the looks of things, Emmanuel must have lured one of the cops out, then knocked him unconscious, then waited for the partner or roused him on the radio, and taken him out too.
They’d made a dangerous mistake, underestimated their opponent, and it very nearly could have ended in disaster.
People were spilling out of houses, and he moved so he could keep watch over the two injured cops while he waited for fire trucks and ambulances to arrive. He sent a text to Heidi, and one to Grace’s brother Elijah, letting them know what was going on. They were going to need to regroup, come up with a better plan. He still believed that using Grace as bait was the fastest way to end this, but if she wound up getting hurt he was never going to forgive himself.
Grace had wriggled right through the impenetrable defenses he’d thought he had around his heart with her haunted but determined baby blues, and her stubborn resolve to rebuild her life. Her strength was beautiful, inspiring, and humbling, and he knew he could easily be persuaded to spend the rest of his life worshipping her beautiful body and soul. But to do that he had to keep her alive.
Something he was starting to think wasn’t going to be all that easy to do.
* * * * *
2:33 A.M.
It made her feel like a coward to run.
The only reason Grace had left was because she recognized that without any training, she was more a liability than she was a help.
Still, it sucked.
Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel as she stopped at a red light. Being still made her anxious. She’d spent years stuck in that house, nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no way to fight back against the man who controlled her every move. Now she was filled with a need to be doing something.
Problem was there was nothing for her to do.
Nothing but run and hide.
The light turned green, and her hands tightened around the wheel, wishing it was Emmanuel’s throat instead. How many times had she wished she could kill him? The thought had been a near daily companion, but the metal cuff around her ankle, attached to a chain that kept her tethered to the floor limited her options. Emmanuel never allowed the key that would free her to be within her reach, it was his safety backup plan. Killing him meant ending her own life, only it would be a horrible, slow death. Her only option would have been to cut off her own foot, and while she absolutely would have done it—she would have done anything to get free—he never gave her anything sharp enough to do it.
She’d been trapped.
Helpless.
But she wasn’t anymore, and she never would be again.
The gas station appeared up ahead, and Grace scanned the quiet street behind her. There was no one there, at least no one that she could see. Every few seconds she scanned her surroundings, sure that she would see Emmanuel coming for her, but so far she hadn't. It could be because he was still back at the house, or he was following her but in a way she hadn't anticipated.
She wished Matthew was here. Was he okay?
If he got hurt, or worse killed because of her it was going to snap the thin string of control she was using to keep her emotions in check.
The string was wobbling, slipping, getting dangerously close to coming undone. Last night had given her a little taste of what would happen if she ever let the string fall completely. It was one of the reasons she had so readily agreed to play bait. Each thing she did that helped her take a step forward—getting a job, going back to school, getting her own place, and definitely helping put her abductor behind bars—was like tying another knot in that string. The more knots the less the chances the string could unravel.
With a sigh, Grace pulled into the gas station, parking her car as close to the store as she could so her car was bathed in light. Maybe her life would never be normal, never be what it could have been if Emmanuel had never kidnapped her, but it didn't mean her life couldn’t still be happy. Matthew made her happy, she hoped he wasn’t going to leave once this was over and she was safe.