“Just tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll find a car waiting for us and it’ll take us to the place we’ll hide until we see just how bad things are.”
“As long as you’re being optimistic about it.”
Chapter Nine
Grier lost the battle with sleep as he watched. He supposed that, for Grier, who let logic rule her, the way their relationship had come about was fast. But fast had been the way Reid lived, the way he preferred it to be and now that the word relationship was on his radar, he accepted it the way he had all the twists and turns of his life.
He eased his own aching body into the chair near the bed and assessed the plan. Dylan and Kell were coming here. Vivi was working to clear Grier and Jack and had been instructed to do so by any means necessary. And he and Grier were headed to New Orleans.
In the Army, he’d learned early on to ignore aches and pains because it was all about survival. He’d been in that mode for so long, he didn’t recognize anything else.
Maybe it was time to change that a little, he thought as he dialed Dylan’s number and moved into the other room where he could still watch Grier without waking her.
“How’s Grier?” was the first thing Dylan asked, and Reid almost couldn’t speak, he was so surprised. Dylan had a way of doing that, especially just when you thought you knew him well.
“She’s asleep. She kicked some fighter’s ass,” Reid said.
“That’s awesome,” Dylan said, his tone now heavy with sarcasm. “What about the witness?”
“He died in the ring. She’s upset.” Dylan was silent, so he continued, “I talked to Jack.”
“So did I. He’s in jail.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit,” Dylan echoed. “And I checked in with local law enforcement and the prosecutor’s office. And it’s not good.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The five-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit Grier received right before Benji was taken. Jack had the same one in his account.”
Reid didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. He saw red, his throat tightened and he was afraid if he let his temper win, he could destroy half this room. Finally he got himself together and managed, “Why?”
“Because they’re going to teach her a lesson. Make her life hell. Make an example out of her. If she doesn’t get prosecuted, they’ll find her and kill her. This way, she’s a wanted woman and not eligible for WITSEC. They’ve got her boxed into a corner. Ditto for Jack.”
“They’ve been planning this.”
“They’ve had four months of continuances,” Dylan agreed. “These men didn’t get to where they are by being stupid. And there was no sign of them or Benji’s body when the police got to the site.”
“Which means the body’s going to show up somewhere that implicates Grier.”
“I’m guessing something with her fingerprints is going to end up near his body as well.”
“Which can be explained away easily.”
“But not the money in the account.”
“It’s all circumstantial.”
“There’s video of her fighting,” Dylan interrupted. “They’ll say she was in on the whole thing. This past deposit’s just the tip of the iceberg. There’s an offshore account in her name as well. And her retirement papers were put in a month ago.”
Reid stilled at that. Willed himself not to look over at the sleeping Grier.
She was keeping shit from him again. Nothing had changed except the time and place. “I need a car to get us out of here.”
“Call Kell.”
Dylan hung up before Reid could argue. He sat staring at his phone for several minutes before he did so.
“Hey, Kell.” Dead silence. “Oh, come on, man. Don’t do this to me now.”
“I’m going to kick your ass when I see you.”
“Someone already did.”
“Yeah?” Kell’s interest peaked. “Send me some pictures so I can gloat.”
“If I do that, will you get me a car?”
“There are roadblocks. They’re searching cars.”
“Shit.”
Kell sighed. “I’ve got you covered. It’s parked in the back lot, keys under the mat. You’ll have to ditch it and get something new once you get out of state.”
“What color?”
“Red and white. With flashy lights.”
He looked out the window and spotted the ambulance. “Thanks, Kell.”
“I want to see bruises, or I’m telling you, we’re fighting” was Kell’s response before he hung up.
* * *
When Grier woke with a start, her stomach was growling, and it took her several moments before processing where she was and what had happened. And once reality smacked her fully awake, she moved to get out of bed, stifling the groan she was sure would bring Reid running.
He was in the other room on the phone but he was talking low and the TV volume was turned up. Making plans, she supposed as she caught sight of the hair-coloring kit.
He looked up and saw her. She held up the kit and pointed to the bathroom and he nodded, said, “I’ll order room service.”
“Okay, thanks.”
It was weird. After what had happened between them last night, all the space between them was disconcerting.
Had she really expected to wake up next to him, head on his chest, with everything solved? She definitely would’ve preferred that over this tension that made her head ache. She took some ibuprofen and went to shower and fix her hair. Since it was short, it would be an easy process and she followed the directions and rinsed it out in a long, hot shower that helped her get moving with slightly less pain.
All the bruises were darker now, but she was breathing a little easier. She toweled off gently, taking care not to disturb the stitches. He’d even left her Saran Wrap to cover them in the shower.
But he wasn’t anywhere near her.
Finally, she forced herself to look in the mirror. The color was nice. Maybe Teddie or one of the other women Reid lived and worked with did it because this was a pretty, buttery blond with lots of highlights. With the short cut that was surprisingly good, save for a few places she fixed now with scissors,
