Page 57 of The Hermit

Dominik: Surprisingly well.

Suddenly, Grace rushes in the direction of the sliding doors, and I go after her while shoving the device into my pocket.

“Grace?”

“I need to call Ciara. I don’t want her to hear the news from someone else,” she says as she hurries up the stairs.

When we enter her bedroom, I notice she hasn’t unpacked any of her bags.

She digs her cell phone out of her bag, and it reminds me her device isn’t secure.

Before she can unlock the screen, I grab the device from her, which has her eyes flying to my face.

“Your phone isn’t secure. Come.” I grab her hand and drag her to my office. Keying in the code, I shove the door open and bark, “What’s your phone number?”

I stalk to my laptop and open the device. When she rambles off her number, I type it into the system and check which cell towers it’s pinging off.

The signal is weak, but it shows a town two hours away from where we’re situated.

“Thank fuck,” I mutter.

“Can I call Ciara?” she asks.

I get up and dig a gadget out of a cupboard. After sliding the cell phone into it so it will scramble her location, I hand it to her. “Keep the call as short as possible. I’ll have to get you a new phone, so tell her your number will change.”

While I watch Grace make the call, my thoughts turn to Pavlov.

Chapter 15

GRACE

The call connects, and it only rings a few times before it goes to voicemail.

“Now is not the time,” I mutter as I open a chat to type out a message.

Grace: Answer the call. I have something important to tell you, and I can’t do it over text.

Ciara: Give me a second.

Instead of a second, it takes a few minutes before my phone starts to ring.

I answer quickly, “Thank God.”

“Hi,” Ciara says, a clear trembling in her voice. “I’m sorry. I miss you. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

My heart squeezes, and my eyes drift closed as I murmur, “It’s good to hear your voice too.” I swallow hard before continuing, “Listen, I have terrible news, but I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“What?” Ciara gasps.

“Dad’s been killed by the same man who had me kidnapped.”

“Oh my God, Grace!” she exclaims. “Where did it happen? Was it at home? Did you get hurt?”

Jesus, if Ciara hadn’t run away and I hadn’t married Dominik, we’d both be dead right now.

The realization hits hard as I reply, “I’m fine. I wasn’t home.”

Ciara lets out a sob, and hearing her cry breaks my heart and has me saying, “Oh, honey, I wish I could hold you right now.”

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