Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(76)

“Stone’s got her,” Calder says.

And Stone wants her dead. “I’m going down there.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll get picked up,” Calder says.

“I have to.”

The next thing I know, there’s a gun shoved in my gut. Calder. “You think we can come after you out there? You’re not going.”

“Fuck you.” I pull out my piece and jab it in his gut. We wouldn’t pull the trigger. We’re brothers.

Except if Stone hurts Abby. Then I’d have to kill him.





Chapter Thirty-Seven




Abigail


Everything happened like a dream—too surreal, too fast. Grayson going wild on the governor. Nate forcing me back into the service alley, a walled alley that runs up the side of the mansion’s grounds. I tried to get back to the house, back to Grayson, but Nate had my arm, and he wouldn’t let me go.

People came, and there was shooting. Nate said it was the governor’s guys. I don’t know how he knew. Then the sirens sounded.

When Stone arrived, I knew things would go bad. He sent Nate up to the ridge that overlooks the river. He said Cruz was shot.

I want to go, to follow Nate and make sure Grayson’s okay, but Stone has my upper arm in what feels like a vise. “I have to see him,” I say. “I have to tell him it’s okay.”

Stone jerks me by the arm—hard—as soon as Nate’s out of sight. “You think Grayson wants to see you after what you did? Grayson trusted you to be with him in the most important moment of his life, and you wrecked it. You made him feel like shit for what he had to do.”

I try to pull away from Stone, heart racing. “I couldn’t let him—”

He tightens his grip. “Do you know what it’s like to go through what we went through?” Stone snarls. “No. And you never can. You can never be like us. You can never be with him.”

“Did he—” I’m afraid to finish the sentence.

“What do you think he did?” Stone snarls. “The man took everything from us.”

“Not everything.” If he really took everything, then there’s nothing left. If he took everything, there’s no hope for Grayson—and I can’t believe that.

A car approaches, and Stone yanks me between two dumpsters, gun at my temple. I can feel the rage seething from him. I don’t move; I know he’s looking for an excuse to open fire—on me, on the cops.

The car passes, but he keeps me down there on the coarse gravel, fingers digging into my flesh. This cold feeling comes over me as he turns to me and presses the gun to my neck.

I can feel his anger through his grip, his breath on the side of my head. I try to pull away, but his hand is steel. This is it. He finally has me alone, without Nate or Grayson to stop him.

He’s going to kill me now.

“Let me go,” I beg. “Please—I won’t say anything, I promise. I’ll say he kept me drugged the whole time. I don’t remember anything.”

“You won’t pull it off.”

“I will.” My heart pounds. “I swear it!”

“You think I can trust my guys’ lives to you? No f*cking way.”

“He knows secrets about me too. This one 9-1-1 call—it’s a horrible secret. He has stuff on me too.”

There’s a pause where all I hear is my own panicked pulse. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

At that moment, everything comes crystal clear. This man will shoot me. There were enough shots being fired that he could blame it on somebody else. Or maybe Grayson wouldn’t care, if he’s really furious with me for trying to hold him back.

“You ready?” he asks softly as if he’s read my mind, his eyes almost soft, almost kind, as he prepares to kill me.

My heart lurches. I try to pull away, but he’s expecting it. He has me.

“You want me to count?” he asks.

“Count?” It seems crazy—who counts when they’re going to shoot somebody? “Count?” Tears stream down my cheeks. I take a shuddery breath. “Wait. Tell him…tell him I think he’s a good person—I still do,” I say. “Tell him I know what’s inside of him now. Tell him he’s a good man,” I whisper. “Those monsters never touched what was important in him.”

Stone glares at me.

“Fuck you,” I say. “Those monsters never took what was important in him. Tell him I love him.”

There’s this silence, and he presses the gun harder into my neck, angry. “You hurt him.”

“I know,” I gasp.

“You f*cked him up.”

“I love him.”

“That didn’t do him much good, did it?”

I freeze, waiting for him to shoot. My eyes squeeze shut. Does Grayson hate me now?

“I can’t help that I love him,” I say in a small voice.

There’s this long silence.

He lowers his weapon then, and I finally suck in a breath. “Go. But if you say one thing about us, one f*cking police sketch, one f*cking peep about the Bradford, you are dead.”

“Okay.”

“You try to make contact, any contact with him, and you are dead. He doesn’t want to see you. Go before I change my mind.” He shoves me and points. “All the way to the cop car at the end. Turn yourself in like you got away. Go back home.”