It was when she was alone that she let herself think of all that she was forced to give up. Her parents, Piper, Ellie and Jessie… Greyson. Then, and only then, would she let herself feel the despair that was settled so deep inside her.
“Greyson, please.”
“BLAISE!”
Greyson shot up out of the chair he had been dozing in, looking around frantically.
“Calm down, brother! You were dreaming.” Cade gently pushed him back down. “Take a moment to get your bearings.”
Greyson dropped his elbows to his knees, burying his pounding head in his hands. “Why the hell did you let me fall asleep? We should be out there getting Piper.”
“We’re getting set to go, and you needed the rest. You’d been awake going on thirty hours.”
“What I need is to get Blaise out of here, and back together with her daughter,” Greyson groused as he stood up again.
“And, we have a plan of attack,” Cade told him calmly. “Don’t forget, Grey, that this is my area of expertise. I can certainly strategize without your input.”
Greyson sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’m just…”
“I got your back, brother.” Cade clapped his friend on the back. “Why don’t you hit the shower, grab some joe, and then we’ll get this show on the road. Gabe and Nick went out a few hours ago to get the lay of the land. Extraction should be easy enough. The kid has one armed bodyguard, though for all she knows, he’s just Uncle Earl.”
An eyebrow raised. “Uncle Earl?”
Cade shrugged. “From the photos we got, he looks like an Earl. Go!” he ordered, lifting his chin in the general direction of the bathroom. “We head out in thirty minutes.”
“We’re doing this in the daylight?” Greyson was surprised. Most of their missions relied on the cloak of darkness. It was safer for them as well as the one they were rescuing.
“No choice.”
Greyson neatly caught the newspaper that was tossed to him. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach when he read the headline. “Today? She’s getting married today?”
“From what I understand, the date was moved up.”
“Because I showed up.” Greyson crumbled the paper, chucking it across the room. “I won’t allow it.” The vow carried him to the shower. “I’m coming to take you home, doll.”
“ISN’T IT BAD luck to see your bride before the wedding?” Blaise asked snidely when Vincent showed up at her bedroom door. “If so, come on in.” She stood back, granting Vincent entrance.
“I won’t be long,” he said, assessing her critically. “You obviously need all the help you can get to look presentable.”
“Yeah, I can’t seem to keep anything down this morning. Must be nerves. Or maybe just pure hatred. Could be the thought of being near you makes me hurl.” Blaise almost willed herself to get sick at that moment on his starched, boring khakis. It would give him character… not to mention make her feel better.
“You certainly are a fiery one, aren’t you?” Vincent tsked. “I don’t like it. Ah-ah!” he shushed her when she opened her mouth. “I will be your husband soon, and you will change your attitude. Disobedience will not be tolerated.”
“Disobedience!?” She would have laughed if she thought he was even close to joking. “If you wanted obedience, you should have gotten a fucking dog!”
“Language, Olivia!”
“It’s Blaise! And, fuck. You.”
She didn’t even flinch when he raised his hand to her. At this point, Blaise would take a beating if it meant postponing the sham of a marriage she was unwillingly being dragged into. To her dismay, he smiled and lowered his hand.
“I see what you’re trying to do. It’s futile, you know. Delays won’t help you. Neither will your ex-lover. I’ve already taken care of that.”
Blaise could swear that her heart actually stopped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Greyson Steele will no longer be a threat.” Vincent shook his head. “If only you had gone to the study as I had suggested. By speaking privately to him, you sealed his fate.” His patronizing pat on her shoulder set Blaise’s blood on fire. The only thing holding her back at this point was fear for her daughter’s life. Otherwise, she would tear this man limb from limb.
“STOP!”
Jules came running out of the hotel, waving her arms. Greyson and Cade, flanked by Gabe and Nick, froze. Years spent going on dangerous missions had trained them to always heed the warning of a fellow soldier without hesitation.
Cade glanced at Greyson before turning to Jules. “What’s wrong?”
“Your transportation has been tampered with.” She flipped open her laptop, and with a few taps, turned it to where the others could see. “I outfitted the SVUs with diagnostic software as a precaution. I do it no matter where we go. Look.”
She pointed at some numbers that meant absolutely nothing to Greyson. Accounts, profit and loss margins, coordinates. Those he could handle. Cars were never his strong suit. Unless he was driving them.
“All this means? Come on, Jules, we’re on a time limit here.” Greyson’s patience was wearing thin, and he itched to get on with this.
“It means,” Jules began, rolling her eyes, “that your brakes are wiped. You drive out of here, the only way you’re stopping is by slamming into a tree or something.”
“Fuck. Sabotage?”
Cade’s question peaked Greyson’s curiosity as he stalked towards the cars. If this was sabotage, did they want to make it look like an accident? Or, was there a safeguard to make sure killing them didn’t fail?
“Gabe, you got a mirror?”
Gabe dug out an under vehicle inspection mirror from his pack, and tossed it to Greyson. The ex-Delta Force walked diligently around both trucks, checking every crevice carefully.
“Clean.” He flipped the mirror back to Gabe. “They’re being careful. Explosives would have been too messy.”
“I’ve got other transportation on the way,” Jules offered. “ETA five minutes.”
“I want to know who did this.”
“We know who, Cade. That fucker Scott did this.” Greyson paced the sidewalk anxiously. This was setting them back. It could have been worse, he reminded himself. If Jules hadn’t… “Shit. Jules do some research on the accident that killed Ezra and Lily Knight.”
“What are you thinking, brother?”
“With all of this? I’m thinking their accident wasn’t an accident.”
“Jesus. Are you fucking serious? What kind of people are these pricks?”
“They took Blaise’s daughter from her. Made her think the baby was dead. Do you think they would think twice about killing her parents?”
“You’re implicating Lily’s own father, Grey.”
“And, Blaise is his granddaughter!” he hissed. “Family means shit to this asshole. Money. All of this is about money.” He addressed Jules again. “Find me something. This nightmare ends for Blaise today.”
“Our rides are here.” Cade nodded towards the Expeditions pulling up to the curb.
“Let’s go get Piper. I have a wedding to crash.”
A CHURCH WEDDING. With any luck, the groom would be struck by lightning for even thinking of stepping foot on holy ground. Blaise flinched a little, glancing up towards the sky. Probably not the best idea to have such murderous thoughts here, she thought sardonically. She wasn’t above praying for a miracle, especially if that miracle involved some sort of excruciating punishment for the two people who turned her life upside down.
“That’s not too much to ask, is it?” she mumbled.
“Ma’am?” The hairstylist stopped whatever the hell she was doing to Blaise’s hair, and leaned closer. “Did you say something?”
“This has been such a blast!” Blaise lied, and smiled widely. The young hairdresser blushed slightly before returning to her task. Rolling her eyes, Blaise peeked up at the girl’s hair. How the hell do you trust a hairdresser who looks like they haven’t washed their hai
r in three weeks?
Since Vincent left her this morning, Blaise desperately tried to find a way to get in touch with Greyson without any luck. Vincent’s minions were watching her every move. In her heart of hearts, she knew Greyson wasn’t dead as Vincent suggested. The man was special forces, and had spent years in the Army for fuck’s sake. A twit like Vincent wasn’t going to bring him down. She had to believe that.
So, as she sat in the “bride’s” room getting made up for a wedding that was happening in less than an hour, she would hold on to hope until the last possible moment. Please be okay, Greyson.
“Ma’am?” One of the maids—Blaise couldn’t remember her name—interrupted Blaise’s silent plea. “It’s time for you to get into your dress.”
Tessa? Tina? Tanya? Hell if Blaise knew. What she did know is that the woman was a bitch. Many scenarios had gone through Blaise’s mind about why the woman hated her so much. The one that made the most sense was that the live-in help was in love with Vincent. Believe me, lady, if I could pawn him off on you, I would in a heartbeat.
“Already?” Blaise blew out a disheartened breath. “Can I have a moment to myself first, please?”
“We’re on a schedule.” The indignant reproach in the woman’s voice grated on Blaise’s already frayed nerves.
“Yes, I know. I’m not going to screw up your fucking schedule. I just need a moment.” When the woman made no move to leave, Blaise stood up, grateful that she—for once—was taller than someone. “Remember who your boss is going to be in about forty-five minutes, Tellulah.”
“Tilde.”
“I don’t care! Get out of here, and leave me alone for ten goddamn minutes!”
Blaise smiled when the woman finally left mumbling something about Blaise not deserving a man like ‘Mr. Scott’. You’re preaching to the choir, sister. She flopped down on the couch, groaning at how uncomfortable it was.
“This is worse than Greyson’s.” The thought made her heart hurt. “Ugh!” She wanted to scrub her face, muss her hair, scream, run. She wanted to castrate Vincent. Sadly, she could do none of those things. When the tears threatened to fall, it was pure determination that kept them at bay. If Greyson failed, Blaise would find a way to get her and Piper out of this herself. No matter what it took.
Exactly ten minutes later, a sharp rap on the door had her insides churning. There would be no more stalling at this point.
“Come in!” she called out irritably.
“You can’t keep Mr. Scott waiting.” The short maid—Tilde was it? —bustled in, snatching Blaise’s wedding dress off the hook that was on the back of the door.
“Why don’t you get in the dress and marry him, then.” Blaise saw the wistful look cross Tilde’s face. There’s obviously no accounting for taste. “Did you come in here to help me, or just stand there and fantasize about marrying a mon… your employer?” Cringing at her own words, Blaise silently apologized for being so callous. She hated pompous people, but justified her behavior with the fact that Tilde had treated her with hostility from the moment she stepped into that dreaded estate. An icy glare met hers in the reflection. Lady, if I cared enough, I would fire your ass.
“You standing there giving me the evil eye isn’t going to kill me, unfortunately. Let’s get this done.” Blaise waved her arms irritably.
Tilde marched over with the dress in her arms. Blaise removed her robe slowly. She hated this. Hated that she was putting on a wedding dress for the first time because she was being forced to. Hated that the man standing at the end of that aisle would not be Greyson Steele. She shimmied the dress up, grimacing at the scratchy feel of the lace. Blaise purposefully had a dress designed that she abhorred. She’d be damned if she wore something beautiful for Vincent Scott.
BLAISE STOOD AT the double doors that led inside the church, clutching the godawful bouquet. I hate dyed flowers! Everything about this damned wedding was the opposite of what Blaise would really choose. Especially the groom. The wedding march began to play, and Blaise’s heart dropped. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that Vincent had gotten to Greyson. How could she possibly live with that? Even so, hope all but faded away as the doors opened, and her dear old grandfather stood there waiting to walk her down the aisle.
Vincent beamed at her as Richard handed her off. He leaned in, and Blaise had to force herself to stand her ground. “Smile darling. This is your wedding day.”
I’m going to kill you in your sleep. Blaise smiled sweetly at the thought. I’m going to get my daughter back, and then I’m going to make you sorry you ever fucked with me.
“Dearly beloved.” Blaise rolled her eyes at the priest’s words. She didn’t know a soul in this room. She truly doubted Vincent knew anyone. He probably paid all of these people to show up. Surely he didn’t have any friends. The old man’s voice droned on, but Blaise tuned him out. She was sure that Vincent would nudge her when it was her turn to speak. “…speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I object to this fucker being anywhere near Blaise!”
HE SAW BLAISE’S knees buckle, and he raced to the altar, catching her just in time.
“Piper?” she whispered.
“She’s safe, doll.”
“He said… he told me you…”
“I’m here, baby.” Greyson smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen into her beautiful face. “You don’t have to worry about anything. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“You’re wrong.” She chuckled shakily, making Greyson frown with concern. Was there something he missed? “I have to go home and face Ellie.”
As soon as the words left Blaise’s mouth, she fainted. If he hadn’t been filled with so many conflicting emotions—fear for Blaise’s health being at the forefront—he would have laughed. He grimaced then when he thought about it. Ellie had been livid when she found out what was happening over here. Greyson never thought of himself as a man who scares easily, but even he was dreading going home and facing Ellie after the tongue-lashing she gave him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. If he hadn’t been so fucking caught up in his self-pity, Blaise wouldn’t have had to go through all of this for months. Shit.
“Get away from my fiancée! Security!”
Greyson gently lifted his precious cargo into his arms. With Blaise in his arms, he was less likely to do bodily harm to the fucker. Turning towards Vincent and Richard, he saw they were being restrained by Gabe and Nick.
“I would love to tear you apart,” Greyson threatened menacingly. “To inflict just an ounce of pain that you’ve put Blaise through. Instead, I’m going to let the authorities take care of your asses. I have better things to tend to.”
Vincent had the audacity to laugh at Greyson. His arrogance overshadowed his good sense—if the man even had an ounce of that. “What could you possibly threaten me with? You don’t have anything on me.”
“Now, see? That’s where you’re wrong, asshole,” Cade piped up. “Let’s begin with kidnapping.”
“She came of her own free will,” Vincent smirked, gesturing at the still passed out Blaise. “I didn’t kidnap her.”
Greyson held his tongue, happy to let Cade take the lead on this. There was too much at stake, and Greyson couldn’t trust his emotions.
“Not Blaise. Her daughter.”
Vincent’s arrogant demeanor faltered slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I bet you do.”
“Prove it.”
“Oh, we can, and we will. I’ll let you gentlemen take it from here.” Cade stepped aside as two men in dark suits joined the party.
“Thank you, Colonel.” The taller of the two men tossed handcuffs to Gabe and Nick, nodding for them to cuff the suspects. “Vincent Scott and Richard Clark, you are being arrested for kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, falsifying documents, and murder.”
“I’m sure we can find more charges if this isn’t enough, Inspector,” Cade interrupted with a wry smile.
The ins
pector saluted Cade with a smile of his own before continuing reading the two scumbags their rights. Frankly, Greyson didn’t think they deserved rights at all. They deserved to rot in jail for everything they had done.
“Let me down.”
Blaise’s soft voice startled him. So intent on the scene playing out in front of him, he hadn’t realized she had woken up.
“I’ve got you, doll.”
Blaise reached up, cupping his cheek that was covered with a week’s worth of beard. “I know, but there’s something I need to do. I’m okay.”
Reluctantly, he set her down with a tenderness he never knew he possessed. Then, with shocked eyes, he watched as the woman he loved marched up to Vincent Scott and slugged him. The man dropped like the sack of shit he was, and Greyson grinned proudly. That is, until he had to haul a kicking and punching, and very pissed off Blaise off the prone man.
“You’ll get yours, too, old man!” Blaise swiped at Richard, narrowly missing him as Greyson heaved her back.
Jesus! Note to self, do not get Blaise mad at you. Again. She was bent at the waist where Greyson held on for dear life, legs and arms flailing to get at her targets.
“You took my daughter away from me! You took everything! I hate you! I swear to God you will pay!” She struggled some more, and Greyson tightened his grip. “Let me go, Greyson!”
“Doll, stop! Let the police handle it!” When she continued to squirm in his arms, he brought his mouth close to her ear. “We have all the evidence we need, baby. They’re going down. They won’t get away with any of this. And, if they do find a way, I will end them myself. Piper needs you now. Let this go. For her.”
Immediately, Blaise stilled in Greyson’s arms. He loosened his grip enough to allow her to turn in his arms. She looked exhausted. The appraisal was confirmed when Blaise laid her head on his shoulder.
Coming Home: An LA Lovers Book Page 33
