CHAPTER ELEVEN
Grace
Two steps forward, one step back.
Three weeks after Elliot came to Misty Grove, there was progress. Though his appearance didn’t trigger an avalanche of memories, it had, at least, started a trickle. However, what I was remembering didn’t favor a positive opinion of Matt. I’d get flashes of his insults and ridicule for what I did for the DEA. I knew they were mostly out of context, and I didn’t get the whole picture, but it did nothing to strengthen the already tenuous thread of my trust in him.
I clearly remembered one instance in his auto-shop office, so it must have been when I’d just arrived in Misty Grove posing as a journalist.
“Ms. Levinson, surprised to see you again.”
“It’s been a while, Matt.”
“Foster,” Matt said coldly.
“What?”
“My friends call me Matt. You’re not my friend, Ms. Levinson.”
I sighed. “It’s been almost two years, Matt, and you never tried to hear me out.”
“There’s nothing to hear out,” he waved his hand dismissively. “You failed me. You let Roger down, then you let him clean up your mess.”
“My hands were tied—”
“Bull-fucking-shit,” he spat. “You were trying so hard to keep your job, you forgot how to do your job,” Matt snorted in disgust. “You’re not tough enough to qualify for your position, Ms. Levinson. So, how did you get it?”
“Are you implying something?”
“Implying?” Matt sneered. “You’ve got a rocking body, Ms. Levinson, and I’d admit you had me fooled into thinking that you were qualified to handle your job, but it’s obvious now that you’ve slept your way to the top. It explains”—he made an up and down gesture with his hand indicating my body—“why you’ve been relegated to our small town. What? Holden get tired of your pussy or something?”
“Mr. Foster,” I snapped. “This conversation is over. Believe whatever you want, but you’re bound by the agency to help me get information on Troy deLamar.”
I acknowledged strong feelings of guilt for allowing Matt to speak to me that way. And amidst that guilt, there was also regret. There’d been attraction on my part even then.
After I stormed out of that meeting with Holden, Matt had come after me. He caught me in the bedroom and tried to take me in his arms, but I pushed him away. I told him to give me space.
He had looked at me incredulously and asked why.
I turned away from him without explaining and simply said “please.”
I could feel the weight of his stare against my back. He must have withdrawn quietly from the bedroom because all I heard was the soft click of the door and then he was gone.
Matt tried again the next morning, but far from the arrogant man of the first few days, he’d been cautious around me. As if one wrong move from him would send me tearing out from here. He was probably right, and the meeting with Holden had shaken me more than I allowed myself to admit.
Why would I stay with someone who had hated me for the past few years and glimpses into our past only revealed a man who had nothing for me but contempt. Unless I regained more of my memory, I could never fully trust what he was trying to show me because I didn’t remember telling him about Elliot’s involvement in Blood Bull. He could have found out from other sources, although my boss suspected I was the one who leaked the info to Matt.
I knew he was frustrated with me, and I could feel the sexual tension simmering between us. Far from being his one-night-stand girl, I was a woman with broken memories trying to piece her life together.
I didn’t need his complication. I needed answers.
My phone rang.
Troy calling.
“Hello?”
“I just got back into town, darlin’. Sorry I was gone so long.”
“No problem.”
“You ready to talk now?”
I inhaled deeply. “Yes.” After Elliot had left and with my trust in Matt in question, I had called the biker, but he had disappeared from town for three weeks. I was left with no one to turn to which had made staying with Matt difficult for me and, obviously, frustrating for him.
“We talk at the compound.”
“I’m not sure Matt would be okay with that.”
“Sorry, Gracie, can’t say for certain the diner or Foster’s isn’t bugged. Ain’t risking it.”
“I understand.”
Matt would just have to suck it up.
“I’ll pick you up at seven tonight. And no, Foster can’t come with you.”
I paused. “You’re bringing me back to the garage, right?”
Troy chuckled. “I’ll not hold you against your will.”
That wasn’t very reassuring, but knowing this man had rescued Matt from the cartel made me trust him.
I went looking for Matt and found him coming out of the boxing ring. There was a gym adjacent to the garage that trained MMA fighters. He’d been sparring almost every day, and somehow I knew I was the reason. After a few days of trying to engage me gently, he’d finally gotten the message and made himself scarce at the loft. I’d actually started to miss him after only a week. I was well-provided for in terms of food and basic needs, but I hardly saw him. He was working in the garage by the time I woke up and came back to the loft late at night. We behaved like roommates with a strong undertow of sexual tension because the few times he’d look my way, I’d see undisguised hunger in his eyes.
His brows drew together when he saw me at the edge of the gym. He caught a towel from Roger and prowled toward me. Somehow sweat on this man was like a sex pheromone. We’d never talked about our explosive encounter in the shower, but every time I looked into his eyes, I was reminded quite intimately of what we’d done. He had a way of fucking me with his eyes.
I squirmed as I waited for him to reach me.
“Grace, what’s wrong?”
“I’m meeting Troy tonight.”
He stilled. Roger gave one shake of his head and looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Over my dead body,” Matt hissed, glaring at me.
“I think you and I know Troy isn’t the bad guy here.”
Matt grabbed my arm and led me away from the gym that had quite a number of people showing interest in our conversation. He guided me to one corner of the garage, Roger following closely.
“That’s not the point,” Matt countered. “He wants to keep you on the compound and we don’t know why.”
“He’ll not be keeping me against my will.”
His eyes narrowed. “He said that?”
I nodded.
“I don’t like this, Grace. He’s involved in what happened to you.”
“The bombing?”
“Your kidnapping. He knows what those people are after.”
“All the more reason to talk to him, don’t you think? I need my memory back.”
“You can’t force it!” Matt exploded, startling me and Roger. “Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? You should face what’s familiar, but you can’t spoon-feed yourself information. Look what happened with Holden. How can you process what Troy tells you when you don’t even know how to do your job as a DEA agent?”
I flinched and Matt realized his mistake instantly.
“Grace, I didn’t mean it.” He dropped his hand from my arm. Defeat in his eyes. I actually felt sorry for him, but I wasn’t letting him get away with cutting me down any longer.
“You mean you don’t mean it like you used to?” I said sarcastically. “How many times have we had this conversation before, Matt?”
“One too many times,” he muttered. “I already apologized for those, and I’m sorry about what I said just now, and you know I don’t mean it like that, so get over it.”
My jaw dropped open.
“Um, boss, I think—” Roger started.
“No, she has to get used to my stupid fucking mouth saying stupid fucking things,” Matt growled. “So, let’s move on. If you insist on talking to Troy, I’ll allow it.”
“You’ll allow it,” I expressed inanely because I was still reeling from his declaration that I should get over it. I was feeling more justified about labeling him Mr. Asshole.
He speared me with a look of irritation as if prodding me to keep up with the conversation. “What time do we have to be at Troy’s?”
“You’re not coming with me.”
“The fuck I’m not.”
“Troy specifically told me he’s picking me up. He wants to speak with me alone.”
“Sorry, babe, I’ll chain you to my bed if I have to, but you’re not going to him without me.”
“Are you afraid, Matt?” My voice was saccharine sweet. “Are you afraid that Troy is the man I’m supposed to be staying with instead of you?”
His jaw clenched. This was an unresolved issue between us. Apparently, he had instructed every mechanic in his garage to keep mum about my relationship with Troy. Even Roger had no comment about it, and he’d worked with Troy before. But Matt had no control when I went over to Millie’s. One of the waitresses, Kyra, confirmed that I’d been with the biker boss the weekend before the bombing.
He took a menacing step toward me, but I stood my ground. I was not the insecure amnesiac from almost four weeks ago. Well, I still had amnesia, but I’d been slowly coming to terms that I couldn’t wait for my memory to return before my life moved forward. What if I never got it back? And with that acceptance, I had gained self-confidence.
He regarded me for what felt like an eternity, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he spoke.
“You want to be with Troy, go ahead,” he stated with a calm that sent a jig through my heart. “Don’t play me against another man. I don’t have time for that shit.”
“I wasn’t …”
“I did what you asked me. For three weeks, I gave you space to deal with your fractured memories, but I made it clear I wanted something more.” His eyes grew cold. “Now, I’m not sure if you’re worth the trouble.”
And with that statement, he walked past me to head back to the loft.