Chapter Two
Grace
I sat in the car for a few moments, looking around the neighborhood and taking in the surroundings. The clean mountain air felt good for the soul. With nothing but trees and open air all around us, I could see a boy like Liam having a good life out there.
Sure, his uncle's place was small, but I knew that size wasn't everything. And if the way he looked at the boy was any indication, Knox's heart was bigger than he'd let on. Of course, we'd have to do something about the cleanliness of the place – as well as all of the booze that was so readily at hand. That would never do with a small child in the house. I had a feeling, though, that I'd be talking to Knox Sheppard again.
In fact, he was still on his front porch, looking toward us, which only reinforced the idea in my head. He had his arms crossed in front of him and leaned casually against the door frame – just watching. The look on his face told me that he was remembering. Maybe remembering his own experiences growing up and being taken away by the state, just like I was taking Liam away now.
Maybe I was wrong, but I saw something in his eyes. Something that gave me hope. Even if others might shy away from him – what, with his bronzed, tattoo covered skin, and long, russet hair that fell down over his shoulders – I wasn't quite ready to write off Knox Sheppard just yet.
There was nothing about this man that suggested that he'd be anything remotely close to a good father figure for a boy like Liam. Nothing except those eyes. The same deep brown eyes Liam had – eyes that seemed to bore deep down into your soul. Eyes that saw a lot more than the face ever let on.
Knox's face was covered in stubble, chiseled and rough, but his eyes were soft and curious. Such a contradiction. I know that some of my co-workers would call me naïve – my supervisor might even call me insane – but I knew that there was more to that man than met the eye. A lot more. In just the brief time I'd spent with him, I saw the depth to him, saw that there was something good inside of him just waiting to be drawn out.
I wasn't about to give up yet.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Liam, giving him an encouraging smile.
The boy nodded but, as usual, remained otherwise silent. We'd left Charlotte early – too early. I'd given him a granola bar and some peanut butter crackers, but I knew that was by no means enough to hold a growing boy over. He needed real food. To call the town of Blackburn, Tennessee, small, would be a massive understatement – and probably an insult to small towns. Situated in the Smoky Mountains, not far from the North Carolina, Blackburn felt like a town that time forgot, still trapped in the 1950’s.
Blackburn had one main road through the middle of town that held only a few small mom and pop shops. Most everyone lived out on gravel roads on private property hidden away amongst the trees. It might be close to Charlotte, but it felt like another world.
The buildings were all older, and it felt like Liam and I were traveling through time as we drove down the one-lane blacktop road that cut through the center of town. I found a parking space outside a greasy spoon diner and pulled in. I noticed that we were alongside several Harleys, and I eyed them a little uneasily as we went inside.
The region was known for its outlaw bikers, and I knew that having some of the most gorgeous mountain roads in the country helped with that. Bikers liked to ride and we weren't very far at all from the infamous Tail of the Dragon at Deal's Gap – America's number one motorcycle and sports car road.
The road was famous for its curves – three hundred and eight of them all contained within eleven miles of blacktop. I'd traveled through the area with my father as a child. I remember both of us being in a car and feeling seriously unprepared for the adventure we were going on when we took the Tail of the Dragon. The scenery along that long, winding mountain road was stunningly gorgeous, but it was a trip not for the faint of heart.
A bell tinkled overhead as we opened the door and walked into the diner. It was sparsely populated – a few older men who were having an animated conversation about sports, and of course, the large, burly bikers who belonged to the motorcycles outside. Glancing over at them, I noticed their long hair, tattoos, dirty blue jeans, and leather club cuts, and couldn't help but be reminded of Knox.
“Sit anywhere you like, hon,” called a plump, cheery-sounding middle-aged waitress.
I gave her a smile as Liam and I took a seat in a booth near the front door. I handed him a menu and opened one of my own. Our waitress, whose name was Penny and had a large head of hair, stopped by and brought us a couple of glasses of water. In the back of the restaurant, I could hear the voices of men, talking loudly and laughing raucously. They seemed to be growing rambunctious. Liam peered back at them, eyes wide.
“Are those men bothering you?” I asked him.
He shook his head, but his eyes told me a different story. He seemed a little nervous; a little more on edge than usual.
“You sure?” I asked again. “Because I can ask them to calm down, if you'd like.”
Penny chortled. “Good luck with that, dear,” she said, shaking her head as she walked away.
I turned around and glared at the men – all of them with ratty looking beards and an abundance of tattoos on their arms. One of the men had tattoos that went up his neck and even onto his face. If they noticed me shooting them daggers, they ignored me. I turned my attention back to Liam, determined to shut them out.
“Let me know if it gets to be too much,” I said. “I'll ask them to quiet down.”
He didn't say anything to me in return. He just continued watching them with a curious look on his face as I ordered our food. The front door of the diner opened, setting the bells above it jangling, and the crowd went wild. The men started hooting and hollering, shouting profane curses to each other, causing Liam to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut as if the noise was causing him physical pain.
“Okay, this is ridiculous. I've had enough,” I muttered, slipping out of the booth.
Throwing my napkin on the table in my annoyance, I walked back to the table where the rowdy bunch of bikers were sounding off in a huff, ready to go off on them for being so utterly rude and obnoxious in a public setting – especially with a child sitting nearby.
However, as I got closer to their table, I saw who they were hollering at and froze in place. I was sure I looked like a deer in the proverbial headlights standing there gawking at him.
“Grace?” Knox asked, scratching his reddish-brown stubble. “What are you doing here?”
It was as if his voice broke whatever trance I was in and lifted the paralysis that had so suddenly gripped me. I cleared my throat, feeling the shock in me fade, as my irritation with his friends ratcheted up again.
“Trying to get something to eat,” I said, pursing my lips as I glared at the men sitting at the table behind him. “But these men keep scaring Liam with their loud, obnoxious behavior. And let me just say, the words you are using in a public place are entirely inappropriate.”
Knox's gaze moved to the other side of the restaurant and looked at the boy sitting in the booth waiting for me. Even there, in the midst of the restaurant, with my temper flaring, I saw something – a connection. But then Knox turned his eyes to me and I saw the veil come down over them again. He cleared his throat, his face looking entirely passive again.
“I'll keep my guys under control,” he said. “Don't worry about them. I apologize for their behavior.”
“Your guys?” I asked, unable to keep my mouth from falling open.
Now that I had a moment to check out Knox's clothing and put a few things together, it all started to make sense. He still wore the black t-shirt he'd had on earlier, but now, it was underneath his leather cut – the same cot the guys at the table were wearing. The words True Outlaws were emblazoned across the back. “Ahh, I see,” I said, my anger rising and my voice growing cold as I put two-and-two together.
The True Outlaws were well known around Blackburn and their reputation even extended out as far as Charlotte. Yeah, I knew exactly who these goons were and all I had to say was that their reputation left a lot to be desired.
“Well, I'd appreciate it,” I growled. “And I'm sure your nephew would appreciate it as well.”
I turned on my heel and walked off, leaving Knox to stand there staring at me – very aware that he was checking out my ass as I went. I walked back to the booth toward Liam who had been watching us the entire time. Joining him at the table, I heard some chatter and low mumbling behind me, people asking Knox about me, and about Liam. I caught a few choice words in their conversations that caused me to raise an eyebrow and made me angry beyond words I had just had to hope that Liam hadn't heard them.
“My brother, Curtis, passed away. Left behind a kid,” he said, his voice tight and sounding angry. “And for some reason, little miss sunshine over there thinks I'd make a good guardian for him.”
The men broke out in a raucous laughter and another round of rude, profane comments. Gritting my teeth and digging my nails into the palms of my hands, I tried to hold it together and keep myself from going ballistic on those cretins, for Liam's sake. Then, as if she knew I needed something else to focus on, Penny brought us our food. She could see the look on my face and gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Don't worry. They'll head out before long,” she said, refilling my coffee. “They always come in before a job to get themselves good and ramped up.”
“What kind of job?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Hell if I know,” she said. “I keep my nose out of their business. Better for my health that way. And if you were smart, you would too. The last thing a pretty girl and a sweet boy like the two of you want or need is to get into the middle of their business. Believe me. I've seen what happens to those poor saps who don't stay out of the way of the Outlaws.”
She went over to the table of rowdy, obnoxious men, refilling their drinks and joking with them. I turned and shot them another death glare when one of Knox's guys started talking loudly and overusing the F-word in ways that were completely unnecessary. It was almost like they were trying to be as profane as they possibly could just to get under my skin.
Maybe Knox was right. Maybe he wasn't the right guardian for Liam. But as I stared back at him, I saw him turn and look our way, a strange expression on his face.
One of the men sitting next to him – a burly man that looked old enough to be my father with his graying hair and white beard – caught us staring at each other and leaned over to Knox. There was a cruel smile on his face when he started to speak to Knox – not even bothering trying to whisper in the slightest.
“I think that hot little piece of ass over there wants to fuck you, man.”
He spoke loud enough that everyone in the restaurant had heard him. The other men at the table burst out in loud guffaws of laughter – and yet, Liam didn't say a word or even try to put that knuckle-dragger in check. He just let his guys laugh about it and slap each other on the back like an obnoxious group of teenagers.
The anger inside of me rapidly boiled to the surface and threatened to overflow. I felt the heat rushing into my cheeks. That was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. My face was dark with anger as I stood up and walked over to the table, standing in front of those cretins with my hands on my hips. They might think they're scary, but I wasn't about to let them intimidate me.
“Excuse me,” I said to the man. “Would you like to say that any louder? I don't think the guys outside heard you.”
Putting his coffee cup down, the man pushed out his chair, stood up, and loomed over me. I stared up at him, my eyes narrowed, my jaw set, and my fists balled at my sides. The tension in the air between us was thick and, honestly, I had no idea whether or not this man would actually hit me, but I wasn't going to back down.
After a long moment of staring each other down, Knox stood up beside the man and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Otis, chill,” Knox said. “Leave the fine lady outta this. You don't need to be such a dick.”
“Blondie here might want to go back over to her table and mind her own business,” Otis said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “Do you even know who we are, lady?”
“I'm quite aware of who you are and I don't really care. My name is Grace, and I'd happily go enjoy my breakfast if you – you--” I so badly wanted to call them assholes, but when I cut a quick glance over a glance over at Liam, I changed it to something less offensive, “jerks would act like civilized human beings in public, maybe all of us could enjoy our breakfasts in peace. So, why don't you sit down and keep piling your food into that belly of yours. It sure looks like you've had plenty of practice at that.”
The men at the table exploded in laughter and Otis' face only grew darker. But I wasn't going to let him get the best of me. No way, no how. With my hands balled into fists and my jaw tight, I felt like my teeth might crack from the pressure I was exerting on them. I tried to keep myself composed for Liam's sake. Otis suddenly smiled and then laughed, his entire body shaking as he bent over, slamming his fists into the table.
“Did you guys here that? This pretty young kitty has some claws to her, don't she? She thinks we're jerks,” he cackled. “Jerks. Ooh what a mean thing to say, Miss Grace. I don't know how I'm ever going to recover from that burn.”
“She also said you're fat, Otis,” said one of the other men at the table.
Otis looked from me to the man who'd spoken and then back to me, a look of pure confusion on his face.
“Did you?” he asked me. “Did you actually call me fat?”
I shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
He laughed and shook ahead again before letting out a long string of expletives directed at me. He continued to taunt me and my blood began to seriously boil. I looked over at Knox, almost begging him to step in and do something to reign his goon in. But he simply stared back at me and said nothing, the expression on his face saying, “you dug yourself into this mess, dig yourself out.”
When he didn't react, or try to defend me, I cocked my arm back as far as I could, and with as much force as I could muster, I slapped Otis across the face. I hit him hard enough to turn his head to the side and the crack of skin meeting skin sounded like a gun had just gone off inside the diner. I'd hit him hard enough that he looked genuinely surprised.
“You think you're something special, huh? You think you're all badasses?” I hissed. “Big, bad men wearing leather jackets and riding Harleys – you all think you're God's gift. That you can walk on water. But let me give you a little truth, you're nothing but a bunch of thugs and low-life criminals.”
Maybe some of my anger should have been directed at Knox for not being a better person, for not being the person Liam needed him to be. I glared at him as I went off on Otis, hoping the weight of my words would hit him hard. It hit a nerve, alright, but not with Knox. Otis lunged forward across the table, a look of absolute rage on his face as he came at me. Knox reached out and grabbed him, holding him back by his jacket, yanking the man away from the table.
“Otis!” Knox said, his voice rising. “Chill the fuck out, man. Leave the fucking girl alone. You got it? You hearing me?”
Otis' face was bright red with anger and his eyes narrowed with pure hatred as he looked at me. He calmed down and stopped struggling, but Knox didn't let him go. He held onto his jacket and gave the man a menacing glare. Knox's otherwise soft, warm eyes were hardened and his brows furrowed into a thin line as his chiseled face was held tight with tension. It wasn't a look I'd ever want to see directed at me, that was for certain. And it seemed to work wonders in calming Otis down.
Shoving Otis back toward his seat, Knox looked at him.
“Apologize to her,” he said. “Now.”
Knox towered over everyone at the table – clocking in at well over six feet and made of pure muscle. With his arms crossed in front of him, it was easy to see how big and defined his arms were. I had absolutely no doubt they packed a decent punch. I could well imagine him putting somebody down with one good shot. Otis avoided Knox's gaze and turned his eyes toward me, scowling.
“He doesn't need to apologize,” I said, taking a step back from the table. “Just watch your mouths around the boy. That's all I ask.”
Being a little overwhelmed by how Knox handled the man, I just wanted to get away from them all. My pulse was racing and I was flooded with adrenaline. Having said my piece, I backed away and turned toward my table, intending on going back to Liam and finishing our meal. But when I turned around, I froze in place. My heart thundered in my chest and my mouth went completely dry.
He was gone.
The booth was empty. I looked around frantically, but Liam was nowhere to be seen.
“Liam?” I called out, rushing over and leaned down, checking underneath to see if he'd slipped under the table when things got tense with Knox and his guys.
But there was no sign of the boy.
Penny walked over to me as I searched for Liam, trying to fight off a wave of panic , trying to keep my mind clear enough to focus on the situation – and not doing a very good job of it.
“Is everything okay?” she asked me.
“The little boy that was with me,” I said, my voice cracking. “Did he go to the bathroom? Did you see him?”
She shrugged. “Maybe so,” she said. “I was in back though, so I wasn't paying attention too closely, hon.”
A hand on my shoulder caused me to jump, and when I turned, I found Knox standing behind me, a look of concern on his face.
“I'll check in the men's room,” he said, offering without even my having to ask.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to be optimistic.
I was shaking though, nearly frantic as I looked all around the restaurant while Knox went into the men's room. We'd been sitting by the front door, so I looked outside, quickly scanned the parking lot but saw that it was empty of people. There was no sign of him anywhere. It was like the Earth had opened up and swallowed him whole.
“He's not in the bathroom,” Knox said when he returned to where I was standing, his brow furrowed as he scratched his beard. “Any idea where he might have gone?”
“No clue,” I said, my voice cracking again.
Knox put his hand on my arm gently, causing me to look up and meet his gaze. I wasn't prepared for the look of not just concern, but pure empathy in his eyes. I could see that he was scared too – he was just doing a much better job of hiding it than I was.
“We're going to find him, Grace,” he said. “He couldn't have gone far.”
Knox started barking orders to the men at his table, telling them what to do, and they jumped up to do it without question or hesitation.
“Penny, can you make sure he didn't go into the kitchen?” Knox asked. “Leroy, check the front entrance and the street, look around there. Grace, come with me.”
Without even asking, he took my arm and pulled me out the front door over to where I was parked. I called out Liam's name, hoping he might hear me and come back. We checked my car. No Liam. He'd vanished without a trace.
My heart raced as I started to fear the worst. I feared for his life and his safety. He was my responsibility, and the fact that I'd failed him so miserably weighed down my heart.
“I gotta call the cops,” I stammered, trying to pull my phone out of my bag – only to drop it several times because my hands were shaking. “Oh God, what if someone took him?”
“No one around here would take a kid,” Knox said. “It's not like the city. We're a little different out here, Grace.”
“But bad things can happen anywhere,” I argued. “Not just in the city.”
“Not here,” he said. “And especially not to my blood.”
His eyes glowed with an inner fire I hadn't seen before. I started to dial 9-1-1, but Knox yanked the phone from my hands and disconnected the call. I stared up at him, disbelief upon my face, and started to fight to pull my phone back away from him.
“We need to call the cops, Knox,” I said. “This is serious. I'm not screwing around.”
“The police can't be trusted. Not around here,” he said. “We'll find him. Don't you worry.”
“We?” I asked, though deep down, I had a feeling I knew exactly who he meant.
Without answering me, Knox called out to some of his guys and they huddled near their bikes, talking business in tones low enough that I couldn't overhear them. They leaned into each other like a football huddle, all of them looking serious, their eyes and attention focused squarely on Knox. I couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying and Knox still had my phone. They talked for several long minutes and once he'd delivered his orders and the crowd broke up, he called out to me.
“Come with me, Grace,” he said.
“I'm not going anywhere with you,” I spat. “Give me my phone back.”