Page 49 of Anders and the Girl Worth Fighting For
“Like you’re one to talk. Does your husband know neither of your children are his?” I couldn’t help needling her, too. It’s not like I had anything left to lose. “Does the righteous Pastor Robert know his wife spread her legs for someone else?”
This time, Bill punched me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me and cutting off anything else I had to say. He succeeded in finally stopping the laughter I couldn’t seem to control.
He grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back to look at him. His face is only inches from mine. His hot, vile breath flowed over my skin.
“Listen here. You are going to get us that money. Then you are going to have a tragic accident. I’ll play the grieving widower for however long it takes to convince people that I had nothing to do with your accident and then I’m going to disappear with your money. Do you understand? Do you understand? There’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’ve already won.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Right behind you,” Duke called out. “Let me just grab these.” He carried a stack of papers with him and I didn’t ask what they were. I beelined for the driver’s door, too impatient to wait for him to drive.
“Tell me on the way,” I said as we slid in and I pulled up directions for the strip club on my phone. Unlike the fuck up next to me, I didn’t know the place.
I sped out of the neighborhood a little too fast. I’m sure we were attracting the wrong kind of attention today, but fuck, if I didn’t get to Grace before that bastard did something to her, I was going to lose my mind.
“These are all letters to Grace,” Duke said as he leafed through the stack he brought. “Most are from her grandmother. Most of those are unopened with post dates going back years. A few are from a lawyer. All those are opened already, though based on the dates, I’d say Bill opened them and not Grace. One is from you.” He held up a familiar envelope. I had used a novelty postage stamp because I thought Grace would enjoy it. It was opened.
My heart clenched. Not only did she not get it, her ex did. Bile rose in my throat, coating my tongue in the bitter acid and pushing against my teeth to get out. I didn’t include anything damning in the letter. Our letters weren’t really like that, but theidea that someone besides Grace opened it and read it made me sick.
“I included my new forwarding address in there,” I said as my hands clenched on the steering wheel and I took a turn almost too fast. I was tempted to burn the place to the ground rather than ever bring Grace back there. Even the threat of Bill tainted the house. Too bad. I liked that place.
“Well, that explains why she stopped writing,” Duke said as he opened the letters from the lawyer and skimmed through them.
“This says the law office has been trying to contact her to review the terms of her trust,” Duke said as he read a page.
“I knew it,” I snarled. “He probably even tried to talk to the lawyer on her behalf and got nowhere. When are those dated?”
“This one is a month ago, but the oldest is dated a year ago.”
“Fuck.”
We pulled onto the deserted road leading to the strip club. It was fully dark by now and I cut the lights on my car. I didn’t want to alert them we were coming too soon. I pulled off into the parking lot of another nearby abandoned building and tucked the car out of sight. I had to put Tink on Bluetooth and then tucked the headphone into my ear.
We immediately loaded up on gear. I kept the med kit with me. I didn’t think I could let anyone else tend to Grace if she was injured. I was grateful for Duke’s extensive collection of gear. We made our way along the dark side of the road to the abandoned building we hoped Grace was in.
“Heads up,” Tink chimed over the earpiece, “a 911 call came in from the vicinity of the strip club from a number registered to Bill about 3 minutes ago. The call disconnected before the dispatcher picked it up. They called back but didn’t get through. They are sending a unit out to check. ETA five minutes. County sheriff.”
“Understood,” I responded to Tink as we made it to the building. We had five minutes to secure the building and prepare for police involvement. Three minutes ago, Grace was well enough to call 911, but got caught. Hopefully, she was still well, and they didn’t punish her too badly for her attempt.
Duke led us around to the back entrance of the building. There was a padlock on it, but it was easily broken with a quick hit in just the right place. Stupid master locks. There might as well be no lock at all.
By silent agreement, Duke took the lead into the building since he knew it from his previous experiences here. Guns in hand, we kicked through the last door in the hallway and entered the main room of the club.
Low, sporadic lighting complicated things as I scanned the room for threats. I spotted Grace tied to a pole at the far end of the room. She had bruises spreading across her face and a man I assumed was her ex held her by the hair. He was dead now. I just needed to get to him.
Duke was the other side of the room heading towards another man, perhaps George, and a woman too young to be her mother. I trusted he would take care of them. I headed straight for the only thing here that mattered. Grace.
“Get your hands off her, fucker,” I growled as I approached the two. I trained my gun on Bill’s center mass, but he stood too close to Grace to risk hitting her. I didn’t move the gun, though. I just prepared myself in case I had to put it away and use my fists.
He didn’t move at first, his fist still tightly wound in Grace’s hair. Eventually, he turned and stared at me, fists raised, a snarl marring his already ugly face. That was fine. I couldn’t wait to beat this man to a bloody pulp. He drew up short when he caught sight of my gun. I was still too far away to grab him and he knew it. He moved to stand behind Grace, using her as a human shield. Fucking coward.
“Stop,” I commanded him. He didn’t listen. He just grabbed Grace’s hair again and produced a long knife from God knew where.
“I don’t think I will,” Bill said as he held the knife to Grace’s throat. My heart seized. One wrong move and she was gone. I holstered my gun and inched my way closer.
“Just put the knife down,” I said cautiously. “Grace isn’t any good to you dead.”
I hoped reminding him that she could still be of use to him would work.
