“You can’t let yourself come unwound,” he says quietly, leaning forward in his seat. “You love her, don’t you? You want to do the right thing?”
I close my eyes and take a long breath before I answer. “Yeah, Diego, I love her.”
And the words ring true: for the first time in my life, I love someone other than myself and, in a way, I never thought it was possible. It fills me, and it fucking hurts, but it makes me sure that breathing for another day is worth the effort to stay alive.
“Good. Then we’ll find her and we’ll make this right. I’ll be honest, if someone had said to me a year ago that you’d fall for some farm girl from West Virginia, I would’ve laughed my ass off. But here we are.”
“She’s not a farm girl, more like a coal-miner’s daughter.”
“Even worse. I’ve got my guys on it. We’ll keep looking. We’ll find her.”
I nod to him and take another sip of coffee to cover my emotions. I feel like I’m out of control and the idea that Grace is out there somewhere lost and angry and confused, hunting down a psychopathic killer, is like a constant gunshot wound in my throat. I want to scream and rip this place to pieces and the only thing keeping me together right now is Diego’s friendship.
He’s a good man, and I try to remind myself to give him a fucking raise when this is through.
“Let me check in with the boys and I’ll let you know what they say.” Diego nods to me as he stands and walks off, disappearing outside. I watch him through the window as he starts making phone calls.
God, Grace, why am I such a fool sometimes?
I should’ve been prepared for this, and yet it feels like a sudden shock. I knew she’d react badly and yet I went ahead and told her anyway, and now if she’s hurt or worse, it’s going to be my damn fault.
My phone rings. It’s a little past six in the morning and there aren’t many people that would reach out at this hour. Damon’s name shows up on the screen and my stomach’s a cold, empty pit as I pick up.
“Damon,” I say, “you’re calling early.”
“Calvino. I figured you’d be awake.”
“What’s going on?” I can hear the uncertainty and the fear in his voice.
“You’re going to be pissed. Let me just say that I did what I thought I had to do.”
“Damon.” I stop walking and stare at the counter, my mind running through a thousand scenarios all at once. “What happened?”
“Grace is with Vince.”
I nearly collapse then and there. She’s with Vince? Fucking Vince? This could only be worse if Louie had her, and even then, not by much.
“How do you know?”
“She showed up here and I called him to come get her. He told me he was looking to talk to her and I just—”
“You sold her out to him,” I say and a savage growl escapes my lips. Rage runs hot through my body and I’m going to kill Damon, I’m going to cut his throat and bleed him like a pig. No, like a rat, because he’s a worthless rodent to me now.
“I didn’t know he’d take her. He told me yesterday he planned on having a chat with her and when she showed up at my place, I called him right away. It was a peace offering. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You thought fucking wrong, Damon. Why would you call Vince, of all people, and not me?”
“Because I figured if she was showing up alone, she was running from someone, and that someone was probably you.” He pauses and his voice drops quieter. “She was talking about her cousin, Riley. I guess you told her about Louie.”
“That’s why she ran away. She wants to hunt him down and I told her she can’t. But now none of that matters, because Vince has her.”
“Why does Vince want her at all? I don’t understand what’s happening here. I thought she was just your girlfriend. I thought Vince wanted to discuss something trivial, not bag her and drag her off.”
I release a pained grunt. “He bagged her?”
“Hood and all. I’m sorry, Cal. I never would’ve called him if I knew.”
I hold the phone down and close my eyes, breathing hard. Sweat drenches my under arms as I imagine Vince pulling Grace away with a black hood wrapped tight over her beautiful face. It’s a nightmare, pure and simple, worse than any nightmare I’ve ever had—and this one actually happened. That bastard, that sick fucking bastard. All at once, I hate him with a force I’ve never felt before. If she’s hurt, he’s dead.
I raise the phone back up. “When did they leave?”
“Not too long ago. I should’ve called you first, I just didn’t know.”