He could have made his move then, but he was patient. There would be a better opportunity, one that would give him the upper hand with no risk of failure. In the open the way she was, and the rain still kind of light, it would be too obvious to a random passerby if anyone happened upon them.
So he waited, watching her go through the motions of running away from him and their future together, and feeling upset at the hand that fate had dealt him. It was obvious to him what had happened, even if Mabel was skeptical and Samantha was oblivious.
The Locke twins had her under their spell, and she would never see past them and into her feelings for Grant as long as they had access to her.
He was angry at her betrayal of course, but that would be dealt with later. Right now, the love of his life was packing up her car and running from him, and he had to stop her. She was going to be angry, and she was going to put up a big fight, but he would win in the end. Because he had love on his side, and love never failed.
The storm grew more intense, raging around him with wildly. More than once, the lightning struck close to the house, but he was confident that the shorter saplings wouldn’t attract the bolts the way the larger trees did.
He was starting to get impatient when Samantha hurried into the house and kicked the door closed behind her. It bounced softly off the frame and settled so that it was open about six inches. Grant moved forward cautiously, watching the stained-glass oval in the front door for any sign of her return.
He couldn’t see her clearly of course, but he’d been able to see her outline when she’d shut the door and hurried towards the back of the house. She was blurry, but it was enough for him to know that she hadn’t hesitated when the door didn’t stay shut.
She didn’t know that it was open. If she’d taken the time to lock it, she would have known that. But she’d already loaded the car down, and Grant had a feeling that she was only running in to grab something quickly before leaving again. This might be his last chance.
He was on the porch when there was a loud crash of thunder and the lights went out. Grant smiled, reaching out to grab the door handle, slowly pushing it open as he did. The weather gods had been kind to him, providing him with the perfect cover at the exact moment that he needed it.
He knew right then that it was the universe telling him that it was meant to be.
Another bolt shot through the sky and he heard Samantha swear from the back of the house. She was down the hall, from the sounds of it, at the back door. The hallway wasn’t lined up with the front door, so he was certain that she couldn’t see him from wherever she was.
He moved into the living room, quietly closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt when another crash of thunder filled the room and covered any sound he might have made.
When the stillness returned, he heard Samantha, cursing in the dark, fumbling around with what he assumed was a flashlight or emergency candles.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room. He smiled, going across the room and hiding in the shadows. With the lights on, she would have seen him, but in the pitch black, the shadowy corner beside a massive bookcase was exactly what he needed.
He could still hear her cursing in the back of the house. His lips spread in a slow smile. She was a feisty little thing; so much better than all the other girls he’d ever dated. She’d come around eventually, but Grant was almost looking forward to the fight she was going to put up.
“Yes!” he heard her say from the other room.
Doors opened and shut, and it felt like an eternity before he finally heard her making her way down the hall. He stood stock-still, watching for her to appear in the darkness. He saw the thin thread of light from the flashlight before he saw her. She was pointing it towards the kitchen and away from where he stood.
A burst of lightning filled the room, threatening to reveal his position in the room at the worst possible time. But her back was to him, and she was focused on the task at hand. He waited a moment for the roll of the thunder to start, carefully moving out of his hiding place under the cover that the thunder provided.
He was less than five feet from her when she suddenly stopped and stood rigid. She spun around, but Grant closed the distance before she could react.
He grabbed her wrist, flinging the flashlight out of her grasp and across the room. She screamed out in surprise, trying in vain to pull herself from his grasp.
He pulled her close to him, wrapping her in his vice like grip and speaking in low tones in her ear.
“Don’t be scared, Baby. I’m right here. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
“Are you insane? Let go of me.”
Pain exploded in his head as she threw her head back and landed a solid blow to his nose. His grip loosened and she wriggled away, running for the front door. She turned the handle and pulled, not realizing that he’d locked the deadbolt. She pulled it one more time before she realized that he’d locked the bolt, giving him just enough time to recover and advance on her.
His hand connected with her shoulder just as the lock tumbled in the door. He slammed her into the door full force, preventing her from grabbing the handle and pulling the door inward. Taking a fist full of hair in his hands, he yanked her away from the door and flung her down. She hit the floor with a thud but was up in an instant, running for the back door.
Grant closed the distance between them in a few steps, laughing as he chased her, the sound far from joyous. He was enjoying the chase, but he was ready to get her out of there. The longer they stayed, the more likely his sister would show up and ruin everything like she always did. Plus, he had an unfair advantage over Samantha with the lights out; his night vision was far better than a human’s. Where Samantha was stumbling blindly around in the dark, Grant could see her and the immediate world around them in shades of muted gray.
He was within arm’s reach of her now, but he didn’t grab her. She was almost to the back door, which pulled inward when opening, like the front door. He would have the best advantage there, and he was done playing games.
As he expected, Samantha slammed into the back door before she realized that she’d already closed it. Being night blind had that effect on most humans. She took a step back, hand on the doorknob, already mid twist when Grant put his hand on the back of her head and slammed her into the door. Her forehead hit the heavy door with a loud crack and Samantha stumbled backwards.
She swayed where she stood, a look of incredulity on her face for a moment when her head fell forward onto her chest and her knees buckled. He scooped her up right before she lost consciousness, her head falling back over his arm and hanging at an almost impossible angle. He held her close, walking back towards the front of the house and stepping over the contents of her purse, which had been knocked down during their brawl.
He opened the door and carried her to the car, depositing her in the backseat and engaging the child locks. He doubted that she would wake up, but he couldn’t take that risk. He’d nearly missed her and she’d put up one hell of a fight. Now that she knew he was around, she’d be prepared and probably even more of a hellcat than she had been when he’d surprised her in the dark.
Grant got into the driver’s seat, pushing the ignition switch beside the steering wheel. He was thrilled when the engine roared to life. Samantha must have had the keys in her pocket, or they were in the car somewhere.
He put the car into gear, thinking about how much trouble she’d saved him by keeping the keys on her person.
The storm grew more and more violent as he drove cautiously out of the neighborhood. He couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of him, which was good. If he couldn’t see anything, then there was no way that anyone that happened to glance out their window or open door would be able to see that it clearly wasn’t Samantha in the driver’s seat.
He turned onto the single-lane highway, driving just three short miles through the vast forest before turning off the highway and into a neighborhood that was very sim
ilar to Samantha’s. But this neighborhood only had three large properties, and Grant had no neighbors.
Samantha groaned from the back seat but didn’t move. He regretted having to hurt her like that, but she hadn’t given him much of a choice. She would be alright, and if she wasn’t, he would take care of her. “In sickness and in health”, that was the thing, right? He took that duty very seriously and would nurse her back to health for as long as it took, even if her “illness” was her own doing.
Grant pulled around behind the house furthest from the highway. Completely hidden from the main road, the designer had placed the carport on the back side of the house so that it wasn’t visible from any of the other houses or the road. He pulled Samantha’s car up beside his, thinking about how perfect this place was.
He checked Samantha in the review mirror, not surprised that she was still unconscious, one arm flung awkwardly over her head, the other bent against the door. Turning around in the seat, he fished through her jean pocket and pulled the key fob out and shoved it into his own pocket. He turned back and opened his door, watching her to see if she jumped up to escape.
Her breathing didn’t change and she never moved a muscle. Confident that she was indeed completely unconscious, he got out and closed the door behind himself. He opened the trunk, grabbing her two bags and closing the trunk before heading inside. He knew that once she woke up, he wouldn’t have time or opportunity to unpack the car and go through her things looking for weapons and anything else she might have packed that would help her escape.
He walked all the way to the back room of the house, throwing her bags on the bed and unzipping the suitcase. He laughed when he saw the contents of the bag. Samantha had been in a hurry, which didn’t surprise him. When Mabel had texted him not long ago, saying that they needed to talk and she would meet him in town, he knew something was up. Mabel was a lot of things, but assertive wasn’t one of them. She’d never, ever dared talk to Grant like that before in their lives.
He had just finished meeting with the realtor to pick up keys and sign the final paperwork, which sat on the table where he’d left it when the agent left. Grant had even given the man a hefty cash tip for ensuring that the electricity and water were on in their company’s name until he could get everything shifted onto the same account Monday.
The agent had been more than willing to accommodate Grant, but of course, Grant made it worth his while. The man had been so happy, he’d thrown in the furniture he’d staged the house with for free. Grant was sure that the man fancied himself a genius for unloading the cheap, sparse furniture on Grant, but the truth was, he’d saved Grant the trouble of furnishing an empty house for Samantha.
The beds even had mass-produced quilts on top of fitted sheets. The fabric would be scratchy because it had come straight out of a package without being washed, and the workmanship was non-existent, but Grant didn’t care. It was enough to get by with until he could order something better online.
He would have loved to take Samantha shopping in the city, but he doubted that he would be able to trust her before he got sick of the cheaply made amenities, but he’d do his best to rough it in the meantime.
Driving down the highway towards town, he was running through his list of materials that he needed, going over every possible scenario in his head, when Mabel’s text came through. He scowled at the message, but it didn’t take a genius to know what was up. Samantha had tattled on him, a childish habit that Grant would soon break her of.
He decided then and there that he didn’t have time to buy duct tape, rope and all the other things he might need to hold her until she came to her senses. He was going to have to make do with what he had.
He turned his car around then, going straight back to the new house and parking his car. His sense of direction was primal, and he had no trouble at all making his way straight through three miles of wooded trails to Samantha’s home. He’d overshot it by about a hundred yards to the west, but all things considered, he’d been pretty impressed with himself. He was more of a city cat, and it wasn’t like he’d had a map of the place.
It was just starting to rain when he’d found his hiding place just minutes before Samantha’s car had come down the drive.
He’d watched her from where he hid, vindicated by her frantic behavior. If he’d waited until tomorrow to deal with her, she would have been long gone. He wanted to laugh when she’d struggled so hard with the door.
Even from where he sat, it was obvious what the issue was. Samantha had been too comfortable and had stopped locking her doors since she moved to the mountains. If she hadn’t gotten so lazy about her safety, she would have realized her mistake immediately and not wasted precious time fighting with the door.
He chuckled at the memory, pulling the clothes out, already on their hangers, and hanging them in the closet beside his clothes. He spread the hangers out carefully, making sure there was two fingers worth of space between each so the fabric could breathe before he went to work unloading her toiletries into the bathroom.
She was going to love it here. He’d make sure of it.
CHAPTER TEN
Samantha heard the trunk close and listened to sounds of Grant’s footsteps as they faded around the corner. She didn’t move, afraid that he might still be within sight of the car and able to see her. She counted to fifty slowly before she sat up, certain that he’d had plenty of time to get into the house and out of sight.
Sitting up, she pulled on the handle of the back door, groaning in frustration when the door didn’t budge. He’d engaged the child locks, effectively making her a prisoner in the back seat. She carefully climbed over the gear shift, stopping for a moment when a wave of dizziness overcame her and she felt nauseated. When she felt better, she continued her slow, careful movements and reached for the door.
Her fingers were inches from the handle when the lock engaged and the alarm light turned on. Her head flew up, but she was alone in the carport.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, “he must be in the back of the house with the damn key.”
She was trapped now. Her car doors wouldn’t open without the key fob within ten feet. What was worse, if she even tried, the alarm would go off, alerting Grant that she was awake and trying to escape. Surely there was a way to disable it, a failsafe for a situation where you would find yourself trapped in the car, but Samantha’s head was spinning and she couldn’t even begin to figure out exactly what that failsafe was.
Frustrated, she climbed back into the back seat, getting into nearly the same position and settling in to wait. He would be coming back, of that she was sure, but she didn’t know what she was going to do now. She still felt sick from the blow to her head, and she was feeling unsteady on her feet. She’d hoped to make a run for the woods, heading east towards the state park instead of south towards her house like he would assume she would.
Even though he hadn’t realized that she’d come to in the car, had he come back to find her missing, she knew that his first instinct would be to head south towards her home. She’d come to before they’d even left the neighborhood, the windshield wipers and the roaring storm effectively masking her initial gasp when her eyes had opened and she’d found herself in danger.
Thinking quickly, she’d calmed herself, taking careful stock of what she could see out the window and counting off the seconds that passed as he drove. She didn’t know how fast he’d been going, but one thing was for sure; she was less than five miles from her home surrounded by woods that she knew like the back of her hand. If she could get away and get a head start, she had a clear advantage.
Enough with the pity party already, she thought, angry at herself for falling into the arms of fear. You have to think of another way out.
She ran through and discarded scenario after scenario in her mind, trying to quell the growing sense of panic. She wanted to run, but as soon as she pulled on the handle, the alarm would sound. If the door opened immediately, she might make it
one hundred yards before he overtook her, if that. If the door didn’t budge right away, or at all and the alarm sounded, she’d be a sitting duck. She might as well just surrender now if that was the case.
No, none of those choices would work.
She heard the locks disengage and knew he was close. Slowing her breathing and going as limp as possible, she let her head fall to the side so that her arm shielded her face as it had before. Samantha said a silent prayer that Grant would believe that she was still knocked out when he opened the door.
The door opened behind her, her arm that had been jammed against it flopping out and behind her painfully. She didn’t dare move, though her shoulder screamed in pain at the awkward angle.
“Beautiful dreamer,” Grant sang softly under his breath, picking her up and cradling her against him.
She wanted to scream out, but she remained limp, not even flinching when her head bumped the doorjamb and fireworks flashed behind her eyelids when the explosion of pain from the gentle tap.
“Oops, I need to be more careful,” Grant said, still humming the song to himself.
He set her on a bed, pulling a thin quilt up to her shoulders and tucking her in lovingly. He continued to hum, the sound maddening. She could hear him moving about the room, the hardwood floors echoing beneath his feet as he fussed about the room.
The bed shifted beneath his weight when he sat beside her. Large droplets of icy water fell on her face, causing her to squint uncontrollably.
“Wakey, wakey,” Grant said, squeezing more water out of a rag onto her face. “You can do it, Princess.”
She let her eyes flutter open, choosing a spot on the dark ceiling beyond to focus on and letting her head dip slightly as if she was still only semi-conscious. Her lids dropped shut and Grant shook her roughly. She didn’t have to fake the pained look on her face. The slightest movement made her feel like her brain was slamming around inside her head.
“You need to wake up, Samantha,” Grant continued, treating her to more water and more shaking.
Her Tiger Twins Page 10
