I'll Never Stop (Hamlet 4) - Page 80

A giant of a man was hiding in the shadows outside of Rick’s house.

Still a little dizzy and growing even more terrified by the second, Grace thought for a heartbeat that it was Rick. Clasped tightly in Tommy’s arms, being dragged out the front door, it was her first instinct to scream at him to run away. She only just managed to tamp down that urge. Maybe… maybe Tommy wouldn’t see him. She was totally screwed. Rick didn’t have to be.

Her hopes were smashed into a million pieces when the silhouette’s head jerked up as soon as Tommy got her outside. It wasn’t difficult, either. He kept his one arm around her; he was strong enough—and she was still too weak—that his embrace prevented her from drawing away from him. The other arm? He lifted it high.

It must’ve been some kind of signal. The big guy lumbered out of the darkness, moving swiftly and silently in a way that was at odds with his size. No wonder he reminded her of Rick. With his dark hair buzzed in a military-style cut and his big, muscular frame, Tommy’s bodyguard could pass for Rick’s brother at a glance. He held himself the same way, tough and strong and extremely imposing.

Grace felt the bile rise in her throat. Boone. The drug must’ve really affected her if she forgot about him. She should’ve known better. She should’ve expected him to be lurking nearby.

In her time with Tommy, Boone accompanied them on every date and every meeting. She once confessed to one of the girls in her company that she suspected Boone even stood guard outside the bedroom door when she slept with Tommy. She could never figure out whether Boone was Tommy’s bodyguard, his lackey, or his best friend. A combination of all three, she bet, and if there was one thing she learned for sure, it was that Boone would do anything Tommy ordered him to do, no questions asked.

It shouldn’t have surprised her to discover him there, and if she was thinking more clearly, it wouldn’t have. Instead, she gogg

led up at the man.

“Boone. I’ve got her and she’s not going anywhere without me. I’ll take her to the car. I need you to go take care of him.”

Him.

The sudden burst of horror brought even more clarity to the lingering haze in her mind. Take care of him. Him.

If Tommy meant Rick—

“No!” Panic was like ice water dashing through her. She struggled against him, pushing his chest, trying in vain to get away. As if she could find Rick first and save him. It was pointless, even in her state Grace understood that, and still she tried. “Tommy, please—”

Wrapping the long strands around his fist, he pulled on her hair, yanking her head close to his mouth. It hurt like hell. She stopped fighting against him because she was already seeing stars from the sharp agony.

She whimpered. “Tommy, please—”

Grace wasn’t begging for mercy from the man. At least, not for herself. She didn’t care if he pulled every hair out by the root if it meant he’d leave Rick alone. She’d deal with that pain if she had to. Losing Rick? She’d never be able to stand it.

And Tommy knew it. He kept his grip tight even if he stopped tugging. It took the edge off the pain, though the relief lasted mere seconds before he leaned over her, his lips pressed against her cheek. “I’ve promised you the world. Over and over again, I’ve offered you everything that I have. I’d give you anything. But that? Sparing his life? I’m sorry, Grace, but that’s one gift I must refuse.”

The heat of his breath on her skin had the opposite effect. It didn’t warm her; instead, she shivered uncontrollably. Each tremor, each shake caused his hold to tighten further. Her head throbbed and she could barely understand him over her racing heart, plus the pulse of pain rushing through her skull.

Until he raised his voice. Cold, brutal, and in absolute control, Tommy called out to his bodyguard. “Kill him, and meet me at the hotel. Grace’s keys are in the house. Take her car after you finish here. I’m done with his place. We’ll get the hell out as soon as you return.”

Grace’s legs went weak beneath her, her head screaming in agony as the patch of hair nearly ripped out of her scalp as she stumbled; only Tommy’s tight grip around her waist kept her from dropping to the dirt. A sharp scream ripped out of her throat, muffled when she shoved her fist between her teeth. The pain was terrible. Even worse? The paralyzing fear that came with knowing that Tommy Mathers never made threats. He always meant exactly what he said, and did what he said he would.

He never bluffed.

She kept one hand in her mouth, teeth biting down against her knuckles. The sudden hurt distracted her from the ache in her scalp. She reached up with her other hand, tugging the strands away from Tommy to give her some relief.

Grace was hysterical. Frantic thoughts ran through her head, something, anything to keep her mind off of Tommy’s last order. When she let Rick in, she didn’t allow herself to worry about what was going to happen to him if Boone got ahold of him. No, she remembered their lessons, and how often Rick warned her not to let her opponent ever get any advantage during a fight.

Her hair. Her goddamn hair. She’d asked him once if she should cut it. His flustered response was her first real clue that maybe he was into her, too. Grace knew she purposely kept it long because Rick liked it.

Now, though? With her past endangering his future, her goddamn hair was as much of a disadvantage as the ten-pound wedding dress and heels she had on.

But Grace had one advantage that she could think of: Tommy. Everything he did, everything he had ever done, had been because he wanted her for himself. No denying that. Giving her gifts, chasing her all over the country, drugging her in an attempt to drag her to their wedding… it wasn’t right, and it wasn’t legal, but he did it all because it was the only way he knew how to get what he wanted.

Me.

He didn’t want to hurt her. Not physically, at least. He never had. As much as she had always been afraid of how far he would go, she never expected him to hurt her. Grabbing her hair? It was just another way to control her. As soon as she reached up, trying to snatch her hair out of his hand while letting out soft pants that proved how much pain she was in, Tommy hurriedly unwound the thick strands from around his hand.

It all happened so fast. His grip on her waist went slack, but Grace was still too weak to stand on her own. She stumbled again. With a muttered curse, Tommy reached out with both hands, lifting her off of the ground before swinging her up in his arms. Half of Boone’s size, she knew that Tommy was deceptively strong. He carried her as if she were weightless, striding down the rest of the path. The fact that he held her like she was already his bride and he was crossing the threshold with her wasn’t lost on Grace.

She thought about struggling again, bucking her body so that he dropped her, before deciding against it. A fall against the ground from that height would only cause her more injury before he scooped her up again. If she wanted to escape him, she needed to be in one piece.

Tags: Jessica Lynch Hamlet Mystery
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