Adriana lifts her chin, refusing to be cowed by a man who gets his way by tying women up and extorting people. “That’s all in the past. Grayson’s made no secret of the fact that he’s not a boy scout.” She watches with satisfaction, as a look of frustration passes over Morrison’s face and then disappears again just as quickly.
“You’re a lovely girl, Adriana, lovelier than someone like Grayson deserves. But you’re a fool if you think that a man like that will be satisfied by just one woman.” He looks at her. For a moment, he seems almost fatherly, but any sense of that is wiped away by his next words. “It’s part of the lifestyle. The women…they throw themselves at him. You’ve seen what his fights are like! How can you expect any hot-blooded man to keep his hands off when they’re handing themselves out to him like cake on a platter?”
Adriana tries to push away the memories of the cries that she’d heard from the women in the crowd the night of the fight. We love you, Punisher! You’re so fucking hot, Punisher! Fuck me, Punisher! Tommy had said the same thing to Willow that night—that the women come as part of the package of being an MMA fighter.
“Grayson isn’t like that. He cares about me.” Adriana wishes that she didn’t sound so desperate. It’s as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as she is Morrison. She doesn’t want to believe Morrison, but it’s getting harder and harder. She knows that there must be more to what he’s telling her than what he’s willing to share. She holds onto that thought and the knowledge that Grayson loves her with both hands. “You don’t know anything about us Morrison, so why don’t you just crawl back under the rock that you came out from?”
Morrison raises his hand threateningly as if he’s about to strike her. She flinches away automatically and then wishes that she hadn’t, angry with herself for giving him anything at all. But his hand doesn’t connect with her face like she expects it to. Instead he drops it, smirking at her as if amused by her reaction.
“You’re feisty, Adriana, and you’re smart. I like that about you. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t discipline you if I need to. You only get so many free passes, my dear.” He looks at her meaningfully, nodding towards his goon and letting her fill in the blanks.
“I don’t care what you do to me. Grayson isn’t going to do what you’re asking him. If you’re right and I’m nothing more than a fling to him, then I’m not much of an incentive for him to do what you’re asking.” She feels a sense of achievement in turning Morrison’s twisted logic on its head.
“Trust me, Grayson will do what I tell him to.” Morrison’s confidence doesn’t even seen to waver an iota or perhaps he just has a better poker face than Adriana does. “He’ll throw the match in the round I tell him to and if that should end his fighting career and even his life, well then, so be it.”
Adriana bites back the tears that she feels coming. The idea that something could happen to Grayson because of her, or because of the way he feels about her, is worse than anything Morrison could do to her. Despite everything Morrison has told her, she can’t believe that the Grayson she knows is the same person who Morrison is talking about. She knows that Grayson is a good man and that’s what makes her afraid…that he’ll try to save her whatever the cost. She can’t allow that.
“I think it’s about time we check in on our Grayson Fletcher, don’t you?” Morrison holds out his hand and almost immediately the goon has filled it with a cellphone. “It’s not long now until the fight, and we want to keep him focused on what’s at stake if he doesn’t do what I’m expecting of him.”
He dials a number and waits patiently, his eyes never leaving Adriana’s face, studying her emotions.
“Morrison.” Just the sound of Grayson’s voice at the end of the line gives Adriana some comfort, even if it is short-lived.
“Grayson, my boy, how the devil are you?” Morrison winks theatrically at Adriana as if to show how funny he’s being.
Adriana doesn’t catch what Grayson replies, but she’s fairly sure from the look on Morrison’s face that it isn’t anything remotely complimentary.
“Let’s get down to business, Grayson. Have you made the right decision, the one that will keep your new girl here safe and sound?” Morrison smiles apologetically at Adriana, as if he’s just saying what he needs to but doesn’t really mean it.
Adriana doesn’t smile back; she has no interest in playing this little game of Morrison’s. The only interest she has is keeping Grayson safe and getting herself out of this hell-hole.
“You can trust me, Grayson. Adriana is perfectly safe.” Morrison has started wandering around Adriana, making her dizzy with the movement. “Talk to her? I don’t think so, Grayson.”
Adriana strains to hear what Grayson is saying at the other end of the line. However, she doesn’t need to hear. All she needs to do is watch Morrison’s reaction, and he doesn’t look happy. Grayson must have said something to him that leaves him with no choice but to prove that I’m alive and well. After all, what would be the point of him throwing the fight if Morrison had already hurt me beyond repair?
Morrison covers the mouthpiece of the cell with his hand and looks at her with a hatred she could never have deserved. “Be smart, Adriana. Remember, I don’t want to have to discipline you.” He whispers the words, but they ring loud and clear in her mind. She understands the thinly veiled threat.
But this could be her one shot, her one opportunity to give Grayson some kind of a message. She doesn’t entertain the thought that occurs to her that it might even be the last time she gets to speak to him. So make it count, she tells herself. Make it count, Adrie. That was what her dad had told her about boxing, that she should avoid getting into fights, that she shouldn’t court attention, but if she finds herself in a situation where she has to use the skills he taught her, that she should make every punch count.
She nods in understanding at Morrison, putting on her best ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ expression, hoping that he buys into it enough to think that she can’t have any intention of betraying his trust. Morrison holds the cell out towards her.
“Adrie?” Grayson’s voice is like a balm that soothes her battered soul.
“Gray.” She can feel the tears rushing to her eyes at the sound of his voice.
“Adrie, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracks, and she knows that he’s fighting as hard as she is to keep his emotions under control.
“It’s not your fault.” She takes a few deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. The last thing she wants is for him to hear her whimpering and not knowing what the hell is going on. It is harder than she could have imagined to hear his voice and be so far away from him, with no way of getting to him. Plus, knowing that she’s the reason for the fear in his voice crushes her.
“Are you alright? Has Morrison hurt you?” The coldness in Grayson’s voice is chilling, but she knows that it’s the way he steels himself against things that threaten to pull him apart.
Morrison gives her a look that speaks volumes, a look that tells her not to mention the chloroform or the fact she’s lost most of the feeling in her hands or the sprained wrist. She nods in understanding once again. It doesn’t matter since she has no intention of telling Grayson any of those things, not when she’s only going to get one chance to throw the punch that counts.
“No, I’m fine.” She sees Morrison visibly relax as the words come out of her mouth. She takes a deep breath, ready to say as much as she can for as long as she had before she gets cut off in one way or another. “Grayson, you can’t do what he’s asking you. You can’t! I’m in a basement somewhere. It’s dark. I don’t know—” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence; she hadn’t really expected to.
Morrison reaches out with the hand nearest to her, which happens to be the one holding the cellphone, and he backhands her with it. The cell hitting her squarely on the cheekbone, making her feel like her cheek has just exploded. She cries out and then pulls herself together, reminding herself that she doesn’t want to give G
rayson any more reasons to worry about her than he already has. But Morrison’s strong right hand has seen to that. There was no way that Grayson hadn’t heard that, and God knows what he is thinking now.
CHAPTER FORTY
GRAYSON
He closes his eyes as he hears the sound of the impact of something against Adriana’s face, making her cry out. However, shutting his eyes doesn’t stop him from unseeing Morrison slapping her in his mind. Grayson has seen and heard enough blows to know what they sound like and the kind of damage they inflict.
His fingers tighten around the cellphone, and he feels like he could crush it into a million pieces with the force of his anger. He feels a steadying hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to keep a level head, reminding him that flying off the handle won’t help him or Adriana. But the sound of her cry of pain has stoked the fire already burning in his core. It’s awoken memories of another woman, his mother, crying out as another man, his father, put his hands on her, hitting her, hurting her, and making her whimper and weep. Morrison is no different to his father; he is a bully and a sadist. He likes to hurt people—emotionally or physically—in any way he can get to them.
Grayson shakes his head at how naïve he had been about Morrison. When they’d first met, he’d thought that Morrison wanted to take care of him, to look after him like the father he’d always wanted but never had. But very quickly it had become clear that Morrison only looked out for one person and that was himself. Grayson had come to the realization a little later than he should have because he’d put so much faith in the man who promised to make him something more than he was.
“If you touch her again then the deal is off. You can be certain of that, Morrison.” Grayson’s voice is low and full of menace. There’s no doubt in Grayson’s mind that if Morrison were standing in front of him that he would rip him limb from limb with his bare hands. However, Morrison wasn’t standing in front of him; he was in the dark basement that Adriana hadn’t had time to describe. She’d done what she could to give them some clue as to where she was, clever girl. He can’t help but smile in admiration of her. She’s a fighter. She’d told him that she was tough. If there was any doubt about that, it had been erased when she sent the message to Grayson—even though she knew that it would end badly for her.
“Kid, may I remind you that you’re not in a position to make threats?” Morrison is breathing hard, probably from the exertion of the slap that he’d just dealt Adriana. The realization of that makes Grayson want to hurt him, badly. “I’m the one calling the shots here, not you. I’m the one who’s important, not you.”
Grayson sees the look that Tommy and West exchange as that phrase reaches them from the speakerphone. They both clearly think that they’re dealing with a man who has some serious issues; they’re not wrong. He just also happens to be the man who has the person whom he cares most about in the world, which makes him less ridiculous and far more frightening.
“I’m not threatening, Morris. But I know that you don’t want to hurt Adriana, not really. You just want what you want.” Grayson’s attempt to be reasonable is shot down.
“If you think for one second that I won’t make good on what I told you I would do, then you’re in for a rude awakening, my friend.” Morrison’s cackles a dry laugh. “Shall I tell you exactly what will happen to your lovely Ms. Garza if you don’t deliver the goods? Shall I go into detail about what my colleague Mr. Elliott will do to her, inside and out?” Grayson can almost hear Morrison smiling at the end of the line, and it sets his teeth on edge.
“No, Morrison. I don’t need to hear that. I’m well aware of the stakes.” Grayson tries to breathe deeply, centering himself again, taking his focus away from Morrison and the awful things that Grayson knows he’s desperate to tell him.
“I really wouldn’t want to do anything to mar that beautiful face of hers, but that all depends on you.” Morrison sounds like he’s enjoying taunting him. That is just the kind of sick fuck that he is. “It’s so sad that our dear girl doesn’t have any living relatives, no one to report her missing. You know it’s incredible how easy it is to make someone go away, especially when they don’t have any family. Poof, they just disappear. Think about that, Grayson. Now, it’s late. You should get some rest. It’s only a couple of days until the big fight after all, and you need to be at your best. Kid, remember our deal.”
As Morrison ends the call, Grayson is left staring at the cell in his hand as if it were a live snake.
“Fuck.” Tommy breathes the word out as if it were an entire sentence, moved by what he’s just heard.
“She’s alright, Grayson.” West’s hand is on his shoulder, settling him and comforting him, but Grayson can’t find any comfort there, not this time.
“Alright? That son of a bitch hit her, West! He fucking hurt her.” Grayson shakes his head like he’s trying to get the sound of the slap out of his head.
“He did it so that you would hear it, son. He was making a point.” West rubs at his temple and the headache which probably hasn’t gotten any better.
“Well, he made it, loud and clear.” Grayson is distraught; he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to scream and punch something and drink until he can’t see straight, but none of those things are going to get Adriana back.
“Did you hear what she said, G? She used the time she had to send you a message. She doesn’t want you to throw this fight, not for her.” Tommy crosses his arms, watching Grayson’s reaction.
Grayson clenches and unclenches his fists. He knows that his friend is right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
“And she gave us a clue, a better idea of where she is. She’s a smart girl and she’s got a set of brass balls on her.” West’s tone shows how impressed he is with Adriana and her presence of mind and bravery.
“She’s one of a kind.” Grayson smiles for what feels like the first time in weeks, as he thinks about how proud he is of her. She risked whatever Morrison was going to do to her to tell them something. He couldn’t let her down. The knowledge gives him a laser-like resolve and focus. He knows what it is that he needs to do. “We have to figure out where Morrison is holding Adriana.” The determination in his voice is clear. Plus, the look that Tommy and West exchange makes clear their relief at his decision. “It’s not a lot of information, but she gave us something to go on.”
The sound of a door banging open makes all three of them jump, their heads turning in unison towards the entrance of the gym. Grayson automatically puts himself into fight mode, rising up onto the balls of his feet, ready to strike if he has to. However, as the mystery intruder stalks towards them, he stands down, a little relieved, until she opens her mouth.
“Where the hell is she, Fletcher?” Willow starts prodding him in the chest with her index finger in a way that has become entirely her own. The expression on her face is somewhere between anger and fear. He knows it well. It’s how he’s been living since he found Adriana’s smashed cellphone and the note from Morrison.
“Willow, I need you to calm down.” Grayson talks to her in the same tone he would a frightened animal, but it doesn’t have the desired effect. If anything, it swings the other way.
“Calm down? Are you kidding me? Did you seriously just ask me to calm down when my best friend is missing?” Willow is hysterical, her eyes flashing. Her breath is so shallow Grayson wonders if she might be about to pass out.
“I know how you feel. But if you really want to help Adriana, then I’m going to need you to take a few breaths.” Grayson makes calming gestures with his hands, watching her warily as she surprises him by taking his advice.
It’s at that moment that she takes in where she is and the fact that she and Grayson aren’t alone. He wonders if he’s imagining the blush that crosses her cheeks when her eyes land on Tommy.
“Sorry guys, I guess I’m just a little outside of my comfort zone. My best friend doesn’t disappear every day.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, but Grayson can
see from her shaking hands that it’s just a front.
“You don’t have to apologize here.” West gives her a fatherly side hug, and she looks up at him so gratefully it’s hard to reconcile this person with the one who just burst into the room, almost throwing the door off of its hinges. “I’ll get you some water while the boys fill you in.” He disappears off towards his office, leaving the three of them standing awkwardly together.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Willow looks between Grayson and Tommy, not needing a response from them apart from what’s already written all over their faces. “I knew it. I friggin’ knew it! She was supposed to call me this morning. Then, I called the hospital, and they said she hadn’t shown for work and hadn’t called in sick. That’s not Adriana. I don’t think she’s ever missed a day of work in her life!” She passes a shaking hand over her eyes, pulling herself together. “It didn’t take much to figure out that whatever’s happened to her has something to do with you.” She fires an accusatory look at Grayson, and it hits home like a poison-tipped arrow.
MY PROTECTOR: The Valves MC Page 45
