CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Matt
“Give it a try, Kyra.”
The Ford sedan’s engine cranked to life.
Well what do you know Matt thought wryly as he slammed down the hood of the car.
“You’re the best, Matt!” Kyra gushed as she turned the engine off and got out of the vehicle. She launched herself at him like she was in some damned romantic movie, and he could do nothing but make sure he caught her. When she tried to kiss him though, he twisted his neck, and her lips landed on his jaw.
Matt should have known better than to give in to Kyra’s tricks of getting him alone, but he needed an excuse to leave the garage. She’d been relentless lately. Last week alone she’d had plumbing and furnace problems. He’d sent Roger both of those times. Kyra had been a regular hookup, though he’d made it clear he wasn’t available emotionally. She’d been hinting about getting together again whenever he went to the diner or she’d drop by the garage, but Matt had managed to blow her off. Ever since Grace swept into town a few months ago, he had lost the desire to look at other women.
“We’re good together, Matt,” Kyra whispered, looking up at him with undisguised desire. She tried to press her body into his, but he gripped her hips and set her away from him.
“We’ve talked about this, Kyra,” Matt said under his breath. “I fuck you as long as I have a taste for you. I haven’t had a taste for you in a long time. I’ve moved on, so should you.”
“You’re such an asshole!” Her eyes flashed at him angrily.
“Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“It’s because of Grace, isn’t it?” she yelled shrilly. When he didn’t reply, she added, “She’s Troy’s woman, Matt.”
“Do I look like I care?”
Kyra laughed sarcastically. “Oh, my God, you can’t mean to steal another man’s woman.”
“Lie. Cheat. Steal …” he muttered. Whatever it takes. He needed a drink and should probably stop at Mike’s Roadhouse, then he’d drive over to Troy’s compound and do a stake out. Grace was coming home with him whether she liked it or not.
“Look at you,” Kyra scoffed as she followed him back to his pickup. “All bent out of shape. All for what? For a woman who doesn’t remember you?”
Grace did remember, though not the memories favorable to him. Matt wanted to hit something. He didn’t know why he wanted Grace. He just did. He wanted to be in her orbit. It killed him to give her space this past three weeks, and if she thought he’d let Troy have her, she had another thing coming. He might have led her to believe otherwise this morning, but the thought of letting her go to another man made him want to commit murder.
“Kyra, do yourself a favor and move on,” Matt said in irritation as he started the truck.
“We’re not done,” she declared, her fingers gripping the side of the vehicle.
“We’re not done because we never started. Jesus Christ, woman, you’re delusional!” He backed out of the driveway so fast, the back of his pickup skidded a little. Just then, his phone vibrated on the dashboard. He picked it up and swiped the screen to answer.
“Matt? We’ve been trying to call you,” Millie’s voice was a pitch below her panic mode.
“What’s going on?”
“Grace and Axe are in the hospital. They got—”
That sent Matt in full-alert mode, but years of training had him keep his wits about him. “Which one?”
“Edington General.”
He checked oncoming traffic and his rearview mirror before swinging his pickup around. “I’m on my way. Tell me what happened.”
His voice was calm, but his insides were anything but.
Matt had trouble keeping his nerves in check when he strode into the ER. Millie gave him the CliffsNotes’ version of what had happened, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that The Reaper actually had the guts to show up in Misty Grove—much less, break into his loft. He’d thought keeping Grace in a town protected by former assassins would deter a hitman, but he’d been too complacent.
His hackles rose when he spotted Troy and his crew standing off to one side. Roger was talking to Trent and one of his deputies.
“How are they?” Matt asked.
“Axe will need stitches on his head,” Roger said grimly. “The bastard struck him with a wrench. Grace is fine, but a bit banged up.” He sighed. “Again.”
“Where is she then?”
“She hit her head but she swears she didn’t black out. Because of her recent concussion, doctors wanted to run additional scans.”
Matt nodded briefly, his jaw tightening. “Millie’s with her?”
“You know it, man,” Roger replied.
“How did The Reaper get to her?”
Roger flinched and looked at Trent who’d been listening intently. “I was at Millie’s.” His mechanic explained what had happened. Matt listened, wanting to smack his friend for not sticking to Grace’s side as he had ordered, however, his friend appeared to be beating himself up for it, so he held his tongue. His no-filter mouth had hurt Grace so many times, he decided this once he was going to put a cap on it.
“The sheriff’s department will have to get involved in this,” Trent informed him. “I’m going to have to take Grace and Axe’s statement when they’re ready. Why haven’t you mentioned The Reaper to me before?”
“I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to show his face in Misty Grove,” Matt replied. “Christ, I hope Grace still trusts me to protect her.”
“Has she mentioned what he’s after?” Trent asked.
“Negative,” Roger answered.
“I have feeling Troy deLamar knows,” Matt said nodding over to Troy’s group. The biker stiffened and narrowed his eyes at them. They hated getting tangled up with the law, but with the terror attacks on Atlanta, and The Reaper descending on Misty Grove, all bets were off.
Troy exhaled deeply in resignation. The biker might be morally ambiguous with most of his dealings, but if Matt would place him on the spectrum of good and evil, he’d lean more toward the good.
“But this is not a discussion for the hospital waiting room,” Matt pointed out.
“I agree,” Trent answered as he walked over to the biker group.
“This is becoming a big mess, boss, to be involving the sheriff,” Roger observed.
“He’s family and you know it,” Matt responded tersely. This was a wake-up call. Grace had weapons and self-defense training as a DEA agent, but she was not as skilled in fighting as they were. She was lucky she had something The Reaper still wanted because Matt couldn’t imagine what the cartel’s assassin would do to her when she became dispensable. Before her, all Matt cared about was his family and immediate friends, and since all of them were badass in their own right, he never worried much about them defending themselves. His mind right now was going into overdrive thinking of how to protect Grace, and Trent was the first person that came to mind. Cassie’s husband used to be a security consultant and had previously offered to wire his garage. Matt would be taking him up on that offer.
More than an hour had passed. Trent and his deputy had left, and Matt was getting antsy. Axe was about to get discharged but still no word from Grace or Millie.
“What’s taking them so long?” Matt growled. He stalked toward the nurse triage station to inquire.
“Are you family, sir?”
“No, but she’s in my care.”
“Your name?”
“Matt Foster.”
The nurse looked at her computer. “I’m sorry. I can only give information to Millie Cross.”
“Well, Millie is with her, and—”
“Matt …”
He turned to the entrance to the ER rooms and saw Millie. Finally.
“How’s Grace?”
“She’s on her way to radiography,” the diner owner said. She had a strange look on her face, almost like she was dazed, and it took a lot to rattle the woman.
His gut clenched with worry. “I thought they took her an hour ago.”
“No. They had to wait for the blood work.”
Matt nodded impatiently. They had to do blood work in Atlanta too, because Grace had no memory of her past, and they wanted to make sure they didn’t prescribe any treatment or script that she would show any adverse reaction to.
Millie was biting her lip, as if not knowing what to say next.
“What?” Matt asked, even if he was afraid to find out the answer. “Did they find something wrong with Grace?”
“I need to talk to you and deLamar,” Millie said, turning from him to call the attention of the biker. “Troy, a moment, please.” She gestured toward a deserted area of the waiting room.
This suspense was killing him. Did they find something wrong with her? Did she remember something, and she needed to tell him and Troy the information before she—
Matt wasn’t going to think that way. Grace was going to be fine. He repeated the mantra in his head.
When they were as far from everyone else as possible, Millie crossed her arms over her chest and split a penetrating gaze at him and Troy.
“I want both of you to be honest,” Millie said. “It’s no secret Matt slept with Grace. But did you, Troy?”
Troy frowned. “With all due respect, Millie, I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“Oh, but Grace has made it my business because she’s not handling the news very well.”
“What news?” The moment the question left his mouth, there were two suspicions that crystallized in his head. Either Grace had an STD, which she couldn’t have gotten from him because he was clean, or … shit.
“Assuming both of you had sexual relations with her, did you use protection?”
“Fuck,” Matt whispered. Scenes from that night crashed through his mind. The shower. He didn’t use a condom when they were in the shower, but Grace said she was clean and was on birth control. In the heat of the moment, they’d both been careless. Matt had never gone without a condom before—only with her.
Troy looked shocked at the question, wheels turning in his head and had arrived at the same conclusions Matt had. “Oh, shit. But yes, of course I did.”
Red hazed Matt’s vision. He lunged at the biker.
“Liar,” Matt growled, gripping him by his cut. “You never had sex with her. Admit it, dammit!”
“What’s your problem?” Troy growled back. “You were the one who treated her like shit, she chose me …”
Matt never let him finish his sentence but clocked the other man on his jaw, sending him a couple of paces back.
People in the ER screamed. Troy’s crew started toward them, but the biker boss held his hand up. Roger looked at them in apprehension.
Matt glanced back at Millie who had a ghost of a smile on her face.
He swallowed hard. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
“Yup.”