Page 8 of Easton’s Claim

She had a sickening feeling he’d finally hit rock bottom and that his life was in danger. He must have finally pissed off or crossed the wrong person. A drug dealer. A drug trafficker. Maybe a gang, who knew.

Pushing aside the dread and anxiety, she found her voice. “I can’t help you. Now get the hell out before—”

“Your grandmother’s furniture.” His voice was ragged, the bite of his fingers around her upper arms bordering on painful. “It wasn’t in the storage locker. Where is it?”

He’d broken into her storage locker to look for it? What did he even want with it? God, he had to have done something really bad this time. Either that, or he was in so much trouble that he hoped being arrested would save him. She’d inherited at least a half dozen pieces from her grandmother, all stored in various places. Which piece was he even talking about?

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” she whispered, yanking free of his hold and taking a step back. Her skin crawled, the back of her neck prickling.

“I can’t…tell you.” Greg’s eyes were bleak, sad, and damn him, despite everything he’d put her through, it tugged at her heartstrings.

She might not love him, she might not even like him anymore, but she’d been married to this man and still cared about him as a human being. He hadn’t always been a junkie. It saddened her that his life had turned out this way, even though it was his own doing. And right now she had a bad feeling someone was out to kill him. There was no other explanation as to why he would do this.

Whatever his faults, she didn’t want him to die. She had to call the cops. “Out of my way, Greg,” she commanded in a voice that sounded much braver than she felt. She took a step around him but he blocked her with his body, the perspiration on his forehead standing out beneath the kitchen lights.

“Tell me where it is, Piper. If you ever cared about me, tell me now.”

A shiver rippled over her skin. She fisted her hands at her side and edged away from him, toward the mudroom. Was someone targeting him at this very moment? Were they coming here?

She’d grab her purse, run, then call the cops once she was safe. “Only the pie chest is here. Everything else is in storage.”

“There’s a dresser,” he insisted, his eyes wild. “It wasn’t in the storage place.”

Because some of the pieces were in a shed at the Colebrook place. “Then I don’t know.”

“God dammit, you have to know!”

“What did you do?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

She didn’t tell him where all the furniture was, because she wanted no part of whatever trouble he was in, and just wanted to get the hell out of there. This had to be drug or debt related, and he was scared shitless.

Her chest tightened. Had he just put her at risk by walking in here, into her home? Were the people after him now going to come after her, because they linked her to him again?

“It’s better if you don’t know. Just tell me where it is.”

The cryptic words were the last straw. Piper whirled and rushed for the back door. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the sound of thudding footsteps behind her.

Just as her hand shot out to grasp the knob, Greg grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back toward him. “Piper.” His sharp voice cut through the tension like a whip. “I need it, do you understand? They’ll kill me otherwise. Tell me where it is.”

“I told you, I don’tknow.” She clawed at his hand, ready to fight him tooth and nail to get free if she had to.

He was bigger, far stronger, and he was trained, both by the military and then law enforcement. She was counting on him having one last shred of decency to release her before things got ugly. Even during their worst fights when he’d been wasted, he’d never physically harmed her. But he’d never been afraid for his life before, and she didn’t know what he was capable of now.

“Think, dammit! You must know where it is!”

“Let mego,” she said between gritted teeth, then wrenched her arm free.

Her legs shook as she snatched her purse from the bench and darted out the back door, heading for her car parked in the driveway.

Behind her Greg was shouting her name, the terror and grief in his voice sending chills down her spine but all she could think about was getting the hell away from him. She caught a glimpse of him standing on the side doorstep as she backed onto the street. She didn’t pause, just threw the car into drive and hit the gas.

Shit, her hands were shaking. Paranoia and lingering fear kept her checking her mirrors as she sped down the street, but she didn’t see anyone following her. At a stop sign a few blocks away she fished out her cell phone and dialed 911.

Her throat was tight, her entire body trembling as she relayed to the operator what had happened, and that Greg had violated the restraining order. The operator told her to stay calm and assured her the police were on the way to her house.

Piper ended the call and set the phone down in her lap, afraid to stop driving. Greg was screwed up, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d be long gone before the cops arrived to pick him up. But what about her? What if whoever was after him had seen her? They might come after her now. And her car was red, easy to spot.

Easton.She had to tell him. He’d know what to do.

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