Chapter Sixteen
They stayed with Gunner for six months, and Reid never left her side for longer than it took to run to the store. She was able to go out a bit with her bodyguards. She said good-bye to Keegan. She let Gunner tattoo her with a symbol Reid picked out, and decided tattoos were addictive.
And finally, the date of the trial was set—continuances blocked. It was fast-tracked because of the danger to the witness, and because the men she was testifying against were already behind bars. That last part was thanks to Dylan, who’d taken Jack with him to track them down in Mexico and drag them back across the border. Except Jack denied that last part and claimed he caught them in Texas and she began to understand that, at times, there were things in the gray that needed to be there.
She also understood that Jack was in deep trouble, as much as she was, for his part in it. But he continued working with the marshal’s office, knowing that Grier wouldn’t be coming back.
“Are you ready?” Reid asked her. He’d been plying her with beignets and coffee and now it was time to begin the drive to Texas. Dylan would be with them and the rest of the team would be waiting for them at the hotel and the courthouse.
“You come back and see me again,” Gunner told her.
“Hey,” Reid said. “You’d get both of us.”
Gunner shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Twenty-four mainly sleepless hours later, Reid escorted her to the courthouse. Even though he wasn’t by her side, his presence gave her the most comfort. He and his team—their friends—were fanned out everywhere, her own personal security team. That allowed her to be able to concentrate on her testimony.
She sat next to Ryan, her hair back to its original dark color for now. She felt like she was playing a role and she supposed it was good that this felt wrong.
She’d had Dylan not allow her parents in the courtroom. Reid couldn’t protect all of them. But Benji’s parents were there, along with the parents of the other teens who died during their fights.
She made a special request to talk to Benji’s parents and the bailiff escorted her over to where they sat, several rows behind her. She slid into the bench next to Benji’s mom and there was so much she wanted to say. But when she opened her mouth, all she could croak out was “I’m sorry—I tried.”
“Thank you” was all Benji’s mom could manage as well, and she took Grier’s hand in hers while his father nodded stoically.
“He didn’t want you to worry,” she said finally.
“He had a good heart,” his father agreed.
“Grier, it’s time,” Ryan said gently behind her.
“We’ll get him justice,” she told them. “For Benji, for the other kids who were hurt by all of this.”
“We know our son hurt other people . . . but not on purpose,” Benji’s mom told her suddenly. “He wasn’t a killer.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Grier gave her hand a last squeeze and was back in her seat, rising as the judge entered the courtroom.
From there, things were a blur.
It took three weeks before all the evidence was presented. She’d been grilled for four days straight, grueling questioning that had her reliving her experiences, her failure to keep Benji safe and why. The fact that she was now a target for the rings of illegal underground fighting that would still remain in existence, despite all her testimony.
But she would make a small difference, and that’s what counted.
Every afternoon, Grier was walked outside between the two police officers who would escort her to the marshal’s office. They were upset that she hadn’t surrendered ahead of time, but she had no charges pending against her and had no legal obligation to testify. She’d checked in regularly with the lawyer and so far, so good.
From there, Reid would take her to the safe house. Today, they were going there temporarily, waiting to be called back. The jury would deliberate and they hoped their plan would work.
“We’ve been followed,” Reid confirmed now from the back of the marshal’s car Jack drove.
“Good. Exactly what we were hoping for,” Jack said. “They think she’s going into hiding with the marshals after the trial. They know they’ll have to get her before that happens.”
“I can’t believe I have to die again,” she said.
“You’re good at it,” Reid pointed out, and she guessed they’d gotten to the point where they could joke about it. But his eyes had clouded for a moment and she bit her apology back, because she’d promised him she’d stop.
“If you think it’s the best way.”
“I do. I wouldn’t put myself through it again if I didn’t think so.”
It took two days of waiting, pacing, Reid doing anything he could to take her mind off things—and he got very creative—before they got called back in.
The jury pronounced the men guilty. Tears rose in her eyes but she pushed them back and remained stoic as she made eye contact with the men responsible for Benji’s death and her kidnapping and imprisonment. The man no longer wore the rings, but he grinned at her.
“You’ll get yours now, bitch,” he mouthed. And yes, she would.
It was a little different this time. The car waiting to take her to the safe house was driven by Kell. Jack was with Reid, since he was still a target and the police officers who walked her out to the car wore bulletproof vests as protocol.
So did she.
Her throat tightened and she pushed forward. Someone was going to shoot her—she just prayed Reid was able to stop the shooter in time.
* * *
While the jury deliberated, Kell, Reid and Dylan waited in the building diagonal to the safe house. The top floors were abandoned and they’d be the best place for a professional hit man to
