Page 80 of Hold Me Before You Go

A sound came from Grayson as I opened the file, holding the air in my lungs.

The first photo was a close-up of the victim’s face, eyes closed, mouth open, lips broken, severe bruising underneath her eyes. My eyes dropped down to her lips, scanning over her pointy nose and sharp cheekbones, ignoring the blood splattered across her face and focusing on the fluid on her chin.

Semen.

I didn’t need to see the rest.

I snapped the folder closed and handed it back to the Sheriff. “That’s Monica,” I whispered.

“Do you know her last name?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Lark. Monica Lark. I have all the information on her if you want it, but I have to tell you, Chase, this isn’t a rabbit hole you want to go down,” Grayson urged darkly.

Chase put his hands on his hips, sighing. “Why is that?”

“Because Monica Lark is part of a giant fucking web that my boys and I just discovered,” Grayson explained, grabbing my hand.

“This is a murder,” Chase said and gestured to me, “and she just identified the victim. I can’t just ignore that.”

“But you can ignore the Hallow Ranch cowboys doing your dirty work and spreading ashes on that mountain?” Grayson returned calmly, jerking his chin to the mountain.

My jaw dropped, and I looked back into the cabin. “Wait—what?” I breathed, looking back to the men.

They ignored me.

“How the fuck did you know that?” Chase asked through his teeth, anger brewing in his eyes.

“I know everything about Hallow Ranch, Sheriff. Don’t fucking push me on this. One call. One fucking call, and the Feds will beall over this town and in your offices within the hour,” Grayson threatened.

My eyes widened, and I squeezed his hand. “Grayson—”

“Quiet, baby,” he cut me off, his voice hard as he stared the sheriff down.

“What do you want?” Chase finally asked, giving in.

“Declare Monica as a Jane Doe. She has no family. No one is going to come looking for her,” Grayson clipped.

“And what about the man who raped her face before beating her to death with a shower curtain rod?” Chase pressed.

“My God,” I muttered, closing my eyes for a moment. She pushed him too far. I waited for the guilt to hit me, for some sense of human compassion to flow in, but it never came.

I truly didn’t care about her, though the way she died was horrible. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Was I glad she was dead? Yes. Was I okay with how she died? No. I also knew that because of what Brandon did to her, Grayson would make him hurt even more before he reaped Brandon’s soul.

“Brandon Hale is mine to hunt, Chase,” Grayson declared darkly, his voice filled with cold death.

Chase looked at me and then back to Grayson. “Fine. Hayden PD stays out of it.”

“Thank you,” I said, cutting into the the conversation. This would make things easier for Grayson, Red Snake, and me. The sheriff looked at me for a moment, and then he said his piece.

“You’re one hell of a fucking human to escape your kidnappers and run three miles in the freezing snow—barefoot.”

I had nothing to say to that. What could I say? Instead, I gave him a warm smile and thanked him for expressing his concern about me and Monica. He didn’t question me like he said he was going to, and when he was finally gone, driving away from Mags’ cabin, I turned to Grayson.

“What do you mean, these cowboys kill people?” I whisper-hissed, ripping my hand from him.

Grayson cocked his head to the side. “Your old friends in St. Louis are just the same, Carrie. So what’s your problem?”

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