Scot said nothing. She knew that he’d object to the idea and didn’t blame him, but she thought she owed Ken this much. This would be the last time she’d ever have to see or deal with him, and the opportunity presented was too tempting. She needed the door closed on this nightmare permanently.
Ken winked at Jenna as he left the house to wait in the car. He didn’t see the wicked glare of disgust she shot back. If looks could kill…
Grace turned and rested her forearms over Scot’s chest. “Don’t hate me.”
He softened, his arms dropping to drape around her back. “I don’t hate you.” He exhaled a deep breath. “Just…just be careful. I’ll be waiting.”
She reached up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the lips and darted out the door to get this over with as fast as possible.
* * * *
Being alone with Ken in the car made her skin crawl, and the adrenaline continually pumping through her system made her unsettled. He drove the darkened back roads without even a glance toward her, both his fists tightly gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and his eyes on the road. He drove at speeds too high, which made Grace nervous. Her right foot continually pressed down unconsciously in attempt to slow them. He drove recklessly, trying to scare her. These were his old tactics. She knew that he had been bluffing his good humor in the house, but took the chance anyway. Now she regretted it. If she opened the door and threw herself out, she’d probably be killed. From her experience, talking would only make things a million times worse, inciting his buried anger.
A deer darted across the road. He hit the brakes hard, and the car skidded in a three-sixty. She clawed the seat and dashboard, her life flashing before her eyes. The headlights twirled around in the blur of darkness, highlighting random sections of barren fields. But the car settled, and Ken just turned and continued speeding down the lonely dirt road before Grace could even get her bearings. Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs, her body stiff and in shock. “What do you think you’re doing, Ken?”
No response. Worse than she thought. Did he plan to spend the whole dinner being an ass and not talking? Were they even going to dinner at all?
She fidgeted, looking out the windows, praying for another car to drive by, preferably a police car. Ten nerve-wracking minutes later, Ken veered off the main road and bounded across a bumpy field. She held on for dear life. Then she noticed the small jet illuminating the night ahead of them. She swallowed hard. “What’s going on? Why aren’t we heading to the restaurant?”
“Shut up, you stupid bitch,” he spat, continuing to barrel forward.
The second the car stopped, she’d make a break for it. Every detail of her escape played over and over in her head. The animals of the forests didn’t scare her, not when compared with the madman beside her. She hadn’t even brought her purse, not that a pay phone or taxi existed in the middle of nowhere.
The car slowed to a stop just behind the aircraft, and Grace lunged for the door handle. Ken grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back. She struggled, determined to get out of the car, even if she had to rip her arm off to do it. But a sharp sting to her shoulder slowed her down. Within moments, a rush of heat cascaded through her, and she felt groggy…so groggy. She turned toward Ken and the syringe he still held in his other hand. His evil smirk and the shadows obscuring his face turned him into the devil.
Chapter Twenty
Her mouth tasted of bile. She grimaced, and forced open her eyes. The simple task was more difficult than she imagined. The drugs made her dead tired and sluggish. Her brain seemed alert, but her body not so cooperative.
As her eyes flickered open and closed with monumental effort, she realized she was back home in Ken’s bedroom. Nothing restrained her, and she didn’t sense the presence of him or anyone else in the room. She nodded back into unconsciousness.
When she awoke the second time, daylight spilled into the room from under the blinds. Although still dozy, she could function. She sat up slowly, swinging her legs to the side of the bed. Her head spun. Despite the situation and how much she despised her old life, her surroundings felt familiar enough to keep her calm. Somehow, time hadn’t passed, her month away only a fantasy, and her life of misery continued on like any other day. She shook her head. Ken might expect her to return to their old ways if he got her home, but his hopes were about to be dashed. He had drugged her, for God’s sakes. What was he thinking? Had she been that much of a pushover before that he actually believed she’d stay if he controlled the setting? He was unstable at best, so she wouldn’t take any chances making a scene. Grace padded softly around the room, peering into the en suite bathroom and out the window, then listening at the closed bedroom door. No sounds or voices, so she eased open the door, cursing the creaky hinges.
Nothing had changed, the arrangement of furniture, art on the walls, right down to the fresh lemons Ken insisted sit in a glass bowl on the coffee table at all times.
Wandering throughout the oversized rooms of the condo like a skittish kitten, she heard voices in the study. She froze. Her mother’s voice made her forehead crease in confusion. Turning in to the room, she found her mother, her father, Ken, and a stranger sitting around on leather chairs.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
She wondered what the hell Ken had told them. It couldn’t be the truth, or her mother would be on the phone with the police, wouldn’t she?
“Grace. You’re awake,” her mother replied in a too-kind voice.
“Mom?”
“Come sit down, Grace.” Her father stood and motioned to his seat. He moved and spoke like she had a learning impediment or might snap at any moment. Maybe she would.
“No. I don’t want to sit down. Ken, have you told them what’s going on? What you’ve done?”
“Of course, and they’re very concerned about you, Grace.”
Even Ken spoke like he actually had a soul.
“Concerned? About me? Mom, Dad, I hope you realize that Ken is absolutely nuts! He drugged me and dragged me halfway across the country like some madman.”
“Now, Grace...” Her father rested a hand on her shoulder, tilting his glasses with the other. “Ken told us everything, and we’re here to help.”
“Oh. Fuck.” She never swore in front of her parents. But the situation sure called for it. Ken had successfully brainwashed her parents, or they just didn’t want to know the truth. Just like they had ignored all her cries for help over the years because Ken came from a good family and improved their rep at the country club.
Her mother spoke so softly that Grace could barely hear her. “Did you really try and run off with a young stable hand? Is that the life you want for yourself? You’d rather live in some trailer reeking of manure and shovel hay all day?”
“She’s always been a rebel,” her father muttered, walking toward the window.
“Hey, this was all Ken’s idea, not mine. He forced me into that fucking wife swap. Do you think that’s something I’d have chosen for myself? He wanted a divorce, and when he changed his mind, all of a sudden everything is my fault?”
“No one’s getting a divorce,” confirmed Ken.
“I already have. I signed those damned papers.”
He grabbed an envelope off his desk and let it fall back down with a heavy thud. Bastard! He never even forwarded them to the lawyers.
“What about Mrs. Wagner? Where the hell is she?”
“Oh, that. The deal didn’t go exactly according to plan. Apparently, she doesn’t have control over the Wagner accounts. Her husband does,” sneered Ken.
“So you can’t get her money, so you decided to settle for your real wife instead?”
“It was business. I would never have actually divorced you. What kind of monster do you take me for?”
Her father piped in. “Marriage is everything. All that matters is keeping things together.”
She observed her parents. They believed every word he babbled, like obedient lambs. It would
be a waste of breath for her to convince them otherwise. Her priority was getting herself out of the condo and on a plane back to the Wagner estate and Scot. She could only imagine what Scot must be thinking. He probably assumed she chose to return to her husband and wanted nothing more to do with him. Not thinking about him in her situation and surroundings came easy. But, once she brought him to mind, her heart pattered to a beat just for him. She craved his comforting voice and warm arms around her.
“Grace, this is Dr. Velgin. He’s here to help,” her father announced.
“Help with what?”
“We all know how confused you are, and he’s here to listen.”
Great. A shrink. She didn’t need professional help. The key to her sanity was a life without Ken. Since her parents wanted nothing more than to maintain their union, the shrink had to be on their payroll.
“I’m leaving!” She stormed out of the office and returned to the bedroom.
A menagerie of footsteps followed her. She slammed the bedroom door shut, hoping to find something of use, like money or a telephone. A moment later, the door burst open, and all four of them stood in its wake.
“We won’t let you do this to yourself,” said her mother.
“Do what? I’m a grown woman. I refuse to live like this anymore. I’m going to do what’s right for me, for a change. You should want that too.” She rummaged through the dresser drawers, looking for a small clip of bills she usually kept in the house. No sign of it.
“Look. Grace. Maybe the wife swap wasn’t the best call. But I had our future at heart when I did it.”
Grace scoffed at Ken and continued pulling clothes out of the drawers. She probably looked like the insane woman they assumed her to be, but she was beyond caring.
“Ken, you drugged me! Is that normal in your books? Because it’s not in mine.”
“It was the only way to get you back. You weren’t thinking straight over there. Brainwashed by all those hillbillies.”
Ugh! She pushed past them into the living room. She couldn’t be near them another second. Although she had no money and no phone, she could make it to a store on the strip and make a collect call to Scot. Mr. Wagner would arrange for her to be picked up.
“Grace. Stop right there,” ordered her father when she reached the main exit.
She turned, chilled by his tone of voice.
“If we have to, we’ll have you committed. We won’t watch you throw your life away.”
She remained silent, didn’t say a word. Dr. Whatever-His-Name-Was eyed her intently. He looked like he’d pull out a tranquilizer gun at any moment to subdue the rabid dog threatening to attack the nice family. Her next move would prove vital. She dealt with deluded, irrational people at this point, and it had begun to terrify her. Growing up, she knew damn well her parents put money and status before all else. But she hadn’t expected them to take it this far.
As she scanned the room, flashbacks of a life forgotten assaulted her. She would not go back to her existence with Ken. No way. The perfectly arranged lemons in the bowl across the room suddenly enraged her. She wanted to haul every one of them off the fifteen-story balcony, or preferably at Ken. Being good little Grace would no longer cut it. She had grown, broken the shackles Mr. Wagner had spoken of, and there was no return. Every experience brought her one step closer to freedom, to the woman she was meant to be, including her time spent with Trevor, Conner, and every other player on her journey.
Her destination, after everything she had learned, was a life with Scot. She knew that now. Maybe the commitment had scared her at first, but good things meant taking risks, and Scot was a risk worth taking.
“Just give me some space, okay? I need time to think.” They didn’t need to know every word was bullshit. She just needed them to believe it long enough for her to escape.
“Maybe you should all leave us alone for a bit. We don’t want to overwhelm her.” The doctor led her to the sofa.
She had little choice but to follow. Overpowering her father, Ken, and the doctor would be a futile attempt. She weighed a hundred twenty pounds soaking wet.
The others retired to the office while she sat beside the doctor on the leather sofa, hands on either side of her, ready to bolt.
“Do you think I’m crazy, Doctor?” she asked, hoping to gain an ally.
“Dr. Velgin.” He tilted his head, observing her. “I never suggested you were crazy. Your parents and husband just want to ensure your mental health. They care about you.”
“Pfft. Sure.”
“Tell me what’s bothering you.” He pulled out a small coiled pad and pen. Now she really felt like one of his patients.
“What’s bothering me is that Ken sold me off for a wife swap with no hint of regret. Now, he wants me back and expects me to play nice like nothing happened. You should be interviewing him, not me.”
“So, you have feelings of abandonment?”
Oh. My. God. She wanted to grab the little pad and smack him over the head with it.
She stood and paced in front of the sofa and coffee table, eying the lemons with disdain. “Look. Dr. Velgin. You can commit me if you want, but it will never make me love Ken or live happily ever after like my parents want.”
“You do know your father is a very powerful man, do you not?”
The way he studied her, an intense gaze, signaled the hidden meaning in his words. A warning. Whether he agreed with her parents or not, they would get their way, and he’d go along with it, ethical or not.
Chapter Twenty-One
One week came and went. She pulled the blanket up around her and, shifting her weight, tried to find comfort on the firm leather sofa cushions. Sharing a room with Ken was not an option. They lived like strangers, enemies, which suited him and her parents just fine. As long as she played her role, they didn’t bother her. Since her first day back, she knew fighting back or running would only land her in hot water. So, she complied, waiting for the day that she could escape this life. But, each day that passed, she fell into the monotony of her old schedule, and without word from Scot or Mr. Wagner, she assumed they had forgotten about her. What was she anyway? Some hired slut, fun for a time, but nothing to keep around permanently. Her self-esteem plummeted by the hour. She barely slept, didn’t eat well, and spent her days staring off into space dreaming of her time with Scot.
Ken had left for work half an hour earlier, the empty condo deafening her with silence. The silence seemed to speak, tell her to wake up, to not forget the woman she had become on the Wagner ranch. After rising from the side of the sofa, she dragged the blanket with her as she shuffled to the large glass windows. She watched the sun climb the clear blue sky above the urban skyline. Such an inspiring sight, but without her mind in the right place, it did no good. She preferred the soft rolling hills, the lazy summer days, and the music of insects by night. The hectic bustle of city life no longer excited her. Everything within her was numb. She wanted to feel the power of her Appaloosa beneath her as she galloped through the fields with Scot. If she tried hard enough, she convinced herself she could hear him, smell him, feel him inside her body as she lay alone and cold at night.
Grace glanced down at her wrist and the friendship bracelet she never took off. She rubbed it against her cheek, feeling somehow connected to her true love by its contact. He had meant it to symbolize his love and commitment. Then why did she feel so lost when she played with the frayed yellow threads?
Something clicked in her head. It didn’t matter if Scot wanted her. She had to do what was right for her. Living in this dead-end life had to end, even if it meant being alone forever. Being hardened didn’t suit her. She refused to remain a robot, programmed for a role but lacking a soul.
A fire began burning inside her, fueling her plans and intentions. Forget this existence where taking a breath came as a chore. She welcomed the wild beat in her heart that reminded her of life and emotion. Enough with feeling sorry for herself.
That night, she approac
hed Ken as they finished up with dinner.
“Are you happy? Like this?”
“Like what?” he spat, wiping his mouth on a napkin and pushing away from the table.
Probably the first time they properly communicated in days.
“This! Not speaking. Just tolerating each other.”
“I have no problem with it.”
Sure he didn’t. Grace knew damn well he screwed every other woman at the office. It didn’t bother her because she had no love for Ken, but she could never live in a loveless marriage contentedly like him.
He shoved his chair away from the table, the scraping of chair legs against the tiles making her jump. Eating in awkward silence had become a form of torture in itself, and she welcomed the bustle, noise, and laughter of the group meals in Pete’s kitchen.
Fear spiked through her system as she prepared to tell him she was leaving. She didn’t want a fight or him to pick up the phone and have some team dressed in white rush in and carry her off. A knock at the door gave her enough time to catch her breath.
Ken stomped to the door and swung it open.
“Who the hell are you?” he barked.
“We’ve come to pick up Ms. Grace and bring her back home where she belongs.”
Grace sat up straight in her seat upon hearing the familiar masculine voice. She leaned over the table and caught a glimpse of the figures in the doorway behind the partition. Cowboy hats and polyester. Her heart thudded, and her breath caught.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ken laughed and mocked the visitors.
“Grace!” One of the men called out for her. She stood up and adjusted her clothes. Peering around the corner, she recognized Conner and Trevor. Oh, dear Lord.
All her feelings came back in a rush. Old Grace broke free. The tweed pantsuit Ken had insisted she wear at dinner today suddenly made her skin crawl. She stood in the alcove, just staring, unable to speak.
Saving Grace Page 13
