Page 18 of Guarding Grace
Having the Russo family interested in Grace was not a good turn of events. The Italians were not as big here in LA as they were on the East Coast, and they had given way in some areas to the Russians, but they were still dangerous and ruthless.
I thanked Zane and called Serena to tell her I was on the way.
She didn’t answer, so I left a message and grabbed my keys.
While driving, I tried again—still no answer. Maybe she’d slept in.
Not wantingto put down the four coffees I’d gotten on the way, I pushed the buzzer to Duke’s place with my elbow.
Serena answered the door. “Oh goodie, just what we needed. You should stop over more often.” She opened the door wide. “Grace,” she yelled. “Terry’s here.”
“Which one’s mine?” Duke asked, appearing with a towel over his shoulders. He’d been working out.
“Two black on my left, and two mochas on the other side.” I wasn’t sure, but I’d bet that Serena was a mocha girl like Grace.
“She should be down any minute,” Serena said as she plucked a mocha from the carrier.
While we waited, I filled Duke in on what Zane had said.
Serena eventually went up to retrieve Grace. “I don’t understand what’s taking her so long.”
Duke rolled his eyes after Serena left. “Probably makeup. Her face is going to need it.”
Serena came back empty-handed. “I’m sorry, Terry. She’s not here.”
“What the fuck?” I yelled.
Serena rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t think she’d give me the slip.”
“What the hell is she thinking?” I swore. “She can’t go out alone. She was supposed to wait for me.”
I pointed a finger at Duke. “You should have kept an eye on her.”
“You said keep her safe, and we fucking did.” His fists clenched, a sign I’d gone too far. “If you thought she might try to slip out, you should have warned us to keep a leash on her.”
“Sorry, man,” I said, raising my hands. “I didn’t expect her to pull a stunt like this either.”
Duke relaxed. We were going to be okay.
“Serena, I’m sorry I yelled,” I told her.
She giggled. “It’s cute that you care.”
My stomach tied itself in a knot as I headed back to the door. I called Grace’s number, and it went to voicemail again. “Grace, call me.”
She was out there somewhere, alone, refusing to answer the phone, with Russo’s thugs looking for her.
On the jog to my car, I dialed Jordy.
He picked up before I even heard it ring. “What can I do you for?”
I bleeped the lock on the door to my Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT and slid in. “Do you still have a back door into those ride-sharing apps?”
“Suggesting I might not is an insult. You know that, right?”
I started the engine. “Grace left Duke’s place, and since she doesn’t have her car, I’m guessing she called a rideshare. I need to know where she went.”
“Hold on.” Keys clacked in the background. “Got it. She went to four forty-five Woodmist.”
