by Susan Stoker
“Anything you need, you’ve got it.”
“Appreciated. See you in a bit.”
“Bye.”
Logan clicked off his phone and wondered what the hell had just happened.
Grace didn’t say a word, but followed her father meekly up the stairs to her room. She’d so badly wanted to blurt out everything to Logan, but with her mother sitting at her back, she knew she couldn’t. Her parents were batshit crazy. There was no telling what they’d do to Logan if she had. Probably lock them both in a secret hidden dungeon under the house.
She would bide her time. Grace had had a lot of time to think while she’d been chained to her bed. She couldn’t win against her parents. Not right now. But she was done doing what her parents wanted her to do. Done.
She’d play the helpless victim, and the first chance she had, she was out of there. Out of the house. Out of Castle Rock. Out of Colorado. She’d start over somewhere. She’d waitress, clean houses, be a maid in a motel . . . it didn’t matter. As long as she was away from Margaret and Walter Mason, and her friends were safe, nothing else mattered.
Grace didn’t say a word as her father muttered under his breath, ranted against nosy men, and complained about chest pains. She changed back into the large T-shirt and sweat pants she’d been allowed to wear, not even caring that her father was in the room watching her change. She lay down on the bed and allowed him to snap the leather cuffs back on her wrists. They’d chafed her skin, enough to leave faint marks. Grace had no idea if Logan had seen them or not or even understood what he was looking at. It was the only physical sign she had of her captivity. The only clue she’d had to show him.
The chains rattled over her head as her father clicked the lock shut. He didn’t say a word to her afterward, just left her lying captive in her bed. Grace would’ve killed for something to eat, but her mother was limiting her to a mere five hundred calories a day. She’d laughed and said it was a crash diet of sorts.
Grace hated her parents.
Hated them.
For so long she’d done everything she could to get them to love her. To appreciate her. To be proud of her. But all along, she’d been fighting a losing battle. They’d never love her. And with that realization, any love she’d held her in heart for the people who’d raised her died.
Grace understood Logan’s desire to leave town the second he’d graduated even more now.
She should’ve gone with him back then. Bought a ticket and climbed onto that bus with him.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It was all a moot point.
But the second she was able, this time, she was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Logan sat around a big circular table at Ace Security with his brothers, Felicity, and Cole. He’d gone over every word Grace had said and still wasn’t exactly sure what she was trying to tell him. On the surface, everything seemed fine, but Logan knew it wasn’t.
“She said her parents were taking care of her just like they always did?” Felicity asked incredulously.
“Yeah. Those were her exact words,” Logan confirmed.
“They haven’t taken care of her since she learned how to walk,” Felicity groused. “Not really. I know I only met her a few years ago, but seriously. They are the coldest people I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”
“And you said there were cameras?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. I noticed them as I drove up, and they were even inside the house too.”
“Blake, can you get into them?” Nathan inquired.
“What? No. I’m not a hacker.”
“But you love computers,” Logan argued.
“Yeah. I do. But that doesn’t mean I can hack into any ol’ system I want to. I can analyze video that someone gives me, I can research like nobody’s business, and if I’ve got the hard drive of a computer, I can search it and pull up browsing history, see what websites someone’s been to and things like that, but I’m no hacker.”
“Shit, man. You were in the Army. Don’t you have any contacts?” Logan complained.
“You were too. Don’t you have any contacts?” Blake retorted.
“Fuck.” Logan rubbed his temple. “I thought all you computer geeks knew each other. In the movies, there’s always that one guy who seems to know everyone and can get information with the tap of a keyboard.”
Nathan snorted. “Those people don’t really exist. It only happens in the movies and maybe novels. Not in real life. Believe me, I wish I did know someone like that. He’d be a godsend in our line of work. Besides being illegal, someone would have to be really good, or really lucky to hack into cameras, satellites, and government databases on an ongoing basis.”
“Dammit. We need to know what’s going on inside that house,” Blake complained.
Felicity said, “Grace put me down on her bank account, just in case. I can check it to see if she’s withdrawn any money.”
“Good idea,” Logan told her. “What about her other phone? Can you contact her on that?”
“I’ve been trying. She hasn’t answered. I don’t know if her parents found it, or she can’t get to it, or if she’s just lying low.”
The room was silent for a moment, then Cole asked, “So she had a mark on the back of her hand. Do you think it meant anything?”
Logan shrugged. “I thought so at first, but now I don’t know. It didn’t look like a handcuff mark. I’ve seen enough of those to know what they look like. This didn’t look like anything other than a rug-burn mark.
“Where was it again?” Nathan asked, his teeth clenched in agitation at the suggestion Grace had been abused.
“There was a slight pink mark here and here.” Logan held up his hand and drew an imaginary line above his wrist on the back of his hand, and about four inches below that.
“Too big for cuffs for sure,” Cole agreed.
“But they could still be restraints of some sort,” Nathan argued.
“Yeah,” Felicity agreed. “If they want to make sure she isn’t marked at all, they could’ve wrapped something around her wrists so they wouldn’t bruise. Grace is smart. Why else would she purposely lift up the sleeve of her blouse?”
Logan gritted his teeth, but couldn’t hold back his reaction. He stood up so suddenly the chair he’d been sitting in was knocked backward and fell to the floor with a loud bang. He smacked the table with his open palm, then turned to the wall and smacked it as well. He then braced both hands on it and leaned over, breathing hard. Pissed off.
The room was silent for a moment, before Felicity had the nerve to break it. “Why do you care so much, Logan?”
Logan whipped around and, between his clenched teeth, he ground out, “What?”
Felicity held up her hands in capitulation. “Don’t get all pissy. I’m just saying, you’ve been back in town for a couple of months. You really only talked to her once in all that time. Granted, your conversation was intense, you both learned her parents fucked you both over, but still. Did you guys get engaged at the gym party the other night and not tell us or something? Is there more you want to tell us? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you care, because Grace needs a badass like you to give a shit what happens to her, but I’m honestly confused.”
Logan wanted to chew Felicity out, but realized she was right. He wasn’t even sure himself why he cared so much, he only knew he did. He paced as he spoke, his words coming out haltingly, then faster and faster as the emotion he was feeling poured out.
“I like her. A lot. Always have. Even though we’ve only kissed once, right before I blew out of town, it’s still the most memorable kiss I’ve ever shared with a woman. And all we did was touch lips. When I thought she’d dumped me, it stung. I went a bit crazy, fucking a few women who offered, getting in fights just to fight. After a while I tried to date. I found a couple very nice women who would make excellent wives and mothers. No go. I didn’t feel half the spark I felt when I was around Grace.
“When I got back in town I st
ayed away from her. I didn’t want the fantasy I had in my head of who she was to get tarnished. Even though I thought she deliberately hurt and misled me, I couldn’t get her out of my head.”
Logan took a deep breath and looked at his friends. They weren’t looking at him in pity, but with compassion and empathy. He continued.
“All it took was five minutes in her company, and all the feelings I’d had when I was eighteen came rushing back . . . tenfold. She was exactly as I remembered . . . and more so. So, yeah, Felicity, I care about her. A lot. Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with me. Maybe she just wants to be friends. But I don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so either,” Felicity agreed. “I’ve never seen her so . . . giddy as she was that last night I saw her. If I had my way, I’d lock the two of you in a room and leave you there for a week.”
“I’m not sure that would get her out of my system,” Logan said dryly.
“I hope not. I’d do it so you could both get under each other’s skin so far you wouldn’t be able to live without the other. But, I have to say it. Don’t hurt her, Logan. I’ll cut off your balls if you do.”
“I won’t.” Logan managed to not even flinch at her choice of words.
“Good. So what’s the plan?”
Logan’s lips quirked and he looked over at his brother. “Blake? You’re the best at this kind of thing.” Logan wanted nothing else than to barge into the house on the hill and steal Grace away, but he knew he had to be smart. The last thing he needed was to be thrown in jail on kidnapping charges and to have Ace Security shut down. They had to be careful. And if that meant letting his brothers take control, he’d do it.
“We’ll take turns watching the house, out of range of their cameras. We’ll take pictures and see if we can’t get a glimpse of Grace through the windows. Take note of who is coming and going and see if we can’t get any information out of any of them once they’ve left the Mason house. Delivery drivers, visitors, employees. We’ll get as much from them as possible, then decide on our next move.”
“How long?” Logan asked. “If Grace is being hurt, we can’t wait. Talking to everyone who visits the house will take too long.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want her in that house any longer than she has to be either, but we have to play this smart,” Blake said evenly.
“Fine. But if we get any indication that she’s being hurt, we’ll make a move.”
“I swear, Logan. Now, let’s make up a schedule as to who is doing what, when,” Blake said, shuffling some papers in front of him.
The group huddled over the table discussing the best vantage points to the Mason mansion and who would take first watch.
The four men and one woman had made an unofficial pact to get to the bottom of what was going on inside the walls of Grace’s prison. One way or another.
Chapter Fourteen
Grace sat with her eyes downcast and fiddled with a thread at the hem of her shirt as her mother spoke with Bradford’s parents. It had been three days since she’d been allowed downstairs to speak with Logan. Three long days of silence interspersed with lectures and threats from both her mother and father.
She’d heard over and over how Logan and his brothers would be ruined if she so much as spoke one word about what was happening to her. Felicity and Cole’s gym would burn to the ground if Grace dared speak of the long days of food and water deprivation.
That afternoon, Margaret had informed Grace that Bradford and his parents were coming over for supper so the seed could be planted about a “relationship” between Bradford and Grace.
Grace liked Brad’s parents. She’d met them only a handful of times, but they seemed way more down to earth than her own parents. Bradford had a sister that Grace had never met, but the few times Brad talked about her, she seemed to be the kind of person Grace would like to get to know. Alexis was a few years younger than her, but from what Brad had said, she was extremely mature for her age. Even though the Grants had money, they hadn’t let it strip away their souls as Margaret and Walter apparently had.
To ensure her cooperation that evening at dinner, Walter had told Grace exactly what would happen to Betty and Brian Grant if she didn’t keep her mouth shut. He’d told her how they knew someone who could easily cut their brake lines, sending the couple to their deaths on the back mountain roads of Colorado as they made their way to their house in the mountains west of Denver one night.
Grace had a lot of time to think up in that room, and she realized that over the last year or two her parents had become even more harsh with their words and actions. Did she want to believe her parents were capable of murder? No. But their threats, combined with holding her against her will, told her that something had pushed them over the edge and they’d come unhinged.
So she’d nodded meekly at her father’s threat.
And planned her escape.
Logan swore long and hard in his head as he watched the Mercedes SUV pull up to the Masons’ house. He’d insisted on taking the night watches for the last few days, leaving Nathan and Blake to take turns during the day. For some reason, he had the feeling that Grace was more vulnerable at night, and even though he had no idea what was really going on inside the house, it made him feel closer to her to keep watch in the nighttime hours.
The last few nights, nothing untoward had happened as far as he could tell. Logan used his binoculars and the long lens on his camera to keep watch over the occupants of the house through the windows. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ascertain much from his vantage points around the property. He’d seen Walter and Margaret eating dinner in the large impersonal dining room, and various house help wandering around with their eyes downcast, but no sign of Grace.
No matter where he moved around the property, he’d never glimpsed her. Not once. The curtains in the room that Felicity said was Grace’s bedroom were drawn tightly over the window. There was a slight glow from the room that went off each evening, so Logan was pretty sure she was in there, but he hadn’t even seen so much as her shadow walking around the room, which bothered him.
Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, Logan watched as Betty and Brian Grant got out of the Mercedes, followed by their children, Bradford and Alexis. Felicity had told Logan and his brothers that Grace’s mother wanted Grace and Bradford to marry. Logan made a mental note to have Blake research the entire Grant family. If they had anything to do with whatever was going on with Grace, they’d pay. She wasn’t a pawn to be moved around a chessboard, even if that’s what she’d been in the past.
Brian Grant rang the doorbell and the butler opened it. The old man still didn’t look happy, but he backed up, allowing the group to enter the large house without any hassle. For the thousandth time, Logan wished they had a hacker to help them. He’d give anything, absolutely anything, to hear what was going on inside the house at that very moment.
Logan pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt more securely over his forehead and shifted position. He made sure to stay out of range of the motion detectors he was sure existed, moving slowly enough so as not to raise or to attract attention to himself to anyone who might review surveillance videos later. Finally finding his usual observation spot where he could see inside the dining room, Logan settled in.
For the first time in three days, Logan caught a glimpse of Grace. At first glance, she looked fine. Her hair was in her customary bun. She was wearing a long-sleeve gray shirt, with some sort of scarf around her neck. Her slacks were black, and hugged her hips as she walked. She was smiling politely at the Grants, and shook all of their hands, before sitting down.
Luckily, she was sitting facing the large window so Logan could see her clearly from his vantage point. Her parents were sitting on either side of her, Bradford across the table from her between his own parents, and Alexis was seated at the end of one side of the table.
All in all, it seemed to be a strange seating arrangement to Logan, but what did he know about the proper way to seat guests
for a formal dinner?
The longer Logan watched the group eat, the more concerned he got for Grace. She rarely spoke and ate little. There were a few times when he caught her biting her lip and could tell she was grinding her teeth together. Her jaw flexed with the movements.
Logan couldn’t read lips, but the nonverbal cues were speaking volumes. Margaret Mason vacillated between pleasure, disapproval, and if he wasn’t mistaken, triumph. Whatever direction the conversation was taking, it seemed to be mostly going her way.
The two-hour dinner looked extremely awkward, and Logan could tell Grace was close to her breaking point at the end of it. Margaret had waved off dessert when the servant offered it to Grace and laughed after saying something. Grace didn’t respond and looked down at her lap.
After the meal was over, everyone stood up and headed out of the dining room. Logan imagined they were entering into the stuffy sitting room where he’d visited with Grace. He stealthily moved around the expansive lawn again, thankful once more that the curtains were pulled back. He watched the group through his binoculars, grinding his teeth at the urgency that beat through him with each passing minute.
The group sat and talked for another thirty minutes or so after the meal, again displaying many of the same mannerisms as they had at dinner. This time, however, Logan had a better visual on Betty and Brian Grant. They exchanged several worried glances, and there were a lot of hand gestures.
Whatever the conversation, it didn’t look like it was going well. Finally, it seemed that the discussion was over, and James reappeared in the doorway. He escorted the Grants out of the house, and this time, they weren’t smiling. Alexis looked confused and worried. Bradford looked incredulous, and their parents looked straight-out pissed.
As they drove away, Logan made a mental note to have Blake contact Alexis. He wasn’t quite sure he could trust Bradford or the Grants, in general. Logan wasn’t sure how they figured into Margaret Mason’s plans, but the sister seemed to be a wildcard. Blake could talk to her, feel her out, try to see what she knew. She might talk to him, or she might not . . . but it was worth a shot.
