Page 17 of Anders and the Girl Worth Fighting For
I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, maintaining that small point of contact between our knees. I wished I had paid more attention to what they were saying.
He nodded as I explained what had happened. “Are you sure this is about you? I don’t mean to question your thoughts, but this photo doesn’t even have you in it and your boss deals with all kinds of accounts. Is it possible that they slid it under your door thinking he lived there?”
His knee still pressed against mine and I didn’t second-guess myself.
“They were watching me before they slid it under the door. They would have seen me go up into the apartment. I don’t think they made a mistake.” The conviction in my voice surprised me.
“Why would they threaten your boss if the message was to you?” He pressed me for answers I didn’t have, but his knee stayed against mine, anchoring me.
“We are very close. He’s like a grandfather to me.” Despite my anchor, my voice sounded small, barely more than a whisper. He was right. None of this made any sense.
“Why wouldn’t you go to the police?” I sunk further into the couch with every question out of Anders’s mouth. A pit had opened up in my stomach and swallowed my insides. Maybe it would swallow all of me instead of just my heart.
“Bill has contacts in the Savannah police department.” I had to fight to get the word out now. “I try to avoid them as much as possible. I don’t even speed for fear of the wrong officer pulling me over and knowing who I am. I just can’t risk him knowing where I live.” My breathing became unsteady. “Which is stupid, I know, because he’s never even hit me. I don’t know why I went from disliking him to fearing him. He just wouldn’t stop calling me and he hasn’t even signed the divorce papers, and he keeps trying to get a hold of me through my cousin and—” I stopped myself. Anders didn’t ask about my divorce. He doesn’t want to know about all this.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
So much for that contact anchoring me against anxiety. His large, grease-stained hand came down heavy and warm on my knee. The same knee that pressed against him. His thumb ran soothing circles ignited my blood and making me achingly aware of that touch.
“It’s alright, Grace. I just need to know how to best help you.” He abandoned his marine voice, opting for a gentler one. The firm staccato had smoothed out, the register of it dipped lower, just a little. I swallowed hard at the contact and dip in his now silky voice.
After a moment to gather myself, I tried again. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, or maybe this is a prank of some kind. Though, I don’t know why someone would choose this as a prank, or prank me of all people with it.” I closed my eyes for a momentbefore continuing. “I do know that I’m scared. I also know that if anything happened to Mr. Jones, all my freedom would be gone and I would be well and truly screwed. Whoever is threatening me must know that.”
Someone threatened me.I swallowed hard at that thought. “Jessica was the only person I could count on, she’s my cousin, but she’s out of town and I haven’t heard from her since she left. I don’t know anyone else I can trust. I don’t know if anyone else in my life is real. Except you. I thought you might be real.” I said that last part a bit too desperately. My need for him to be the man I imagined him to be bled through my voice despite my best efforts. “So I came here. I heard you cussing before I even knocked on the door. I knew right then that you were exactly who I thought you were. Or maybe just who I hoped you were. I guess.”
I looked into his eyes then. I had been afraid of seeing what he thought, but now that was all that was left to do. I couldn’t avoid it. He didn’t look angry, or disbelieving, or any of the things I had feared would happen. He looked kind.
“I’m real, sweetheart. I believe you. I’ll help.” Relief flooded me, instantly relaxing my shoulders and clearing the dark clouds gathering in my mind. Tears pricked my eyes, threatening to fall. Anders leaned forward. My heart sped up a little as he came closer. Was I going to get another hug? I hoped I would. I really wanted a hug right now. He maintained eye contact until the last second, before he reached over to grab a drink from the coffee table. I hadn’t even noticed he had a drink there before. Foolish. Of course. Of course, he was reaching for a drink. I sunk into the couch in shame.
Chapter Eight
She was here. In person. Real. Solid.
I think I scared her with that hug. I just couldn’t help myself. I’d read and reread her letters so often that they were on the verge of falling apart. I eventually stopped writing after I didn’t hear back from her. I had some pride, after all. I never stopped thinking about her, though. Never stopped dreaming of her. She’s somehow exactly like I imagined, and nothing like it at all. She was just tall enough to keep me from having to bend over to hug her. And that hug. She fit so perfectly in my arms. Like they were made to hold her.
And now she asked for my help so boldly. I could tell it cost her. Red rimmed her eyes as they shone with tears. She seemed so uncertain, but she was here and that showed me she was brave.
I’ll help. I didn’t even think the words before they spilled out of my mouth. I was willing to get blown up for some kids I didn’t even know, and Grace was unsure if I would help her.
Fucking hell.
I’d literally dreamed of helping her. I spent so many nights with nightmares plaguing me featuring Grace calling out for help and then disappearing before I could find her.
Turns out, she found me.
“Well,” I said, “I think the first thing we need to do is figureout who these guys are and what money they want.”
Years of military training allowed me to resist pulling Grace into my arms again. If I did that, I would get lost in the rain and fresh linen smell of her and the warm press of her body against mine.
“How do we do that?” She asked. Her words came out clearer and stronger now that we moved from storytelling to making a plan of action. I understood that sentiment. Plans were concrete, tangible. With a plan, we could face this.
“First things first. We need more information. A threat without a demand doesn’t make any sense. We’ll need to go to your apartment to see if they left anything you might have missed or maybe delivered the message separately.” I leaned forward to grab the photo again and looked for anything I didn’t notice at first glance.
“Of course, I should have thought of that,” Grace said as her shoulders slumped. She sounded so defeated. I wish she could see how brave she was. I knew from experience how hard it was to ask for help. “I should have thought of that and waited to get more information.”
“No,” I said a little too forcefully. “You did the right thing by leaving and trying to get help. There’s no telling what would have happened if they had come back when you were there. We don’t know why they only left this photo and until we do, we shouldn’t take any chances.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand to comfort her. I wanted to do so much more. “Maybe they would have just slid something else under the door or maybe they would have…” I swallowed, unable to finish my sentence. “Maybe they would have done something worse.”
