Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(78)

Why is she crying? I want to bash the cop’s face in for making her cry even though I know…it’s not sadness. She’s relieved. Happy. Happy enough to cry.

I gave her water and blankets, and she never felt relieved. Never got so happy she cried with it. God, was she just surviving me? She liked me enough not to let me die, but she didn’t want to stay.

My chest feels like it’s caving in.

A hand on my shoulder. Nate. “Let’s go, brother.”





Chapter Thirty-Nine




Abigail


A lawyer meets me at the police station and offers to represent me. I get the feeling my case is somewhat famous. She tells me not to answer questions. And she tells me something else too. She tells me the governor is dead. I’d expected that, but it stills hit me like a blow to the chest.

Stupid as it is, there was some part of me hoping that Grayson hadn’t killed the governor after I left. As if maybe I’d been enough to save him.

But I failed.

Somebody has hot chocolate for me. I sip it, feeling calm in a way I never have before. Maybe because I have nothing left to lose. The prison journal is a distant memory. Class schedules and final exams feel like a world apart. And Grayson, I’ve lost him too.

You said you were strong enough. That’s what he told me in the governor’s mansion. I guess I’m not, because I couldn’t stand to watch him kill like that. Couldn’t stand to watch Grayson kill the last spark of humanity inside himself. So he pushed me out and did it without me watching.

I’m grateful when Esther arrives. I wrap myself around her and hold on for dear life.

My new lawyer thinks that if I tell where Grayson might be, I’ll do no time. I tell her I don’t know. I give a version of the truth over the next day—roughly what happened, without the sex.

I say I was drugged. In fear. I leave out the part about his guys and about the Bradford Hotel. I wouldn’t have told, even without the promise to Stone to play dumb. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Grayson, even if he doesn’t want me anymore.

I say we spent the night in a car and he brought me to the governor’s home. No, I couldn’t get away. Yes, I was scared for my life. The guy from the gas station has never come forward, and it’s unlikely he will now. I’m guessing the guy has something to hide, and I really didn’t take that much, anyway.

The governor’s murder is national news, of course, and he’s made out to be a hero. It makes me sick, knowing what I know, but I stick with my role of the barely conscious hostage with no useful information. I was with Grayson only a few days. The manhunt that’s on is intense.

My lawyer has short brown hair and minty breath, and she convinces the powers that be not to file charges. They stop asking me to tell where Grayson is—they’re believing my story. I just have to sign a paper that says I won’t sue the prison or the university.

It’s that easy—except I can’t go home yet. They say I have to stay in town, so Esther gets us two motel rooms. She stays near me and asks no questions.

She does give me advice, though. “They’ll be watching you. Not just the media, but the cops. The Feds. Wherever you go, whoever you call. You understand?”

Maybe that’s why they let me go—to see if I lead them to the guys.

There’s a part of me hoping for that. Maybe Grayson will decide to forgive me for trying to stop him from killing the governor. Maybe, now that he’s had his revenge, he’ll want to be with me. But I don’t get any calls. I think about finding him myself, just to see. To state my case or maybe beg him to take me back. It sounds kind of desperate, but that’s how I feel. Even if he turns me away, I want to try. Except I can’t go back to the Bradford Hotel if the Feds might be watching me.

I had worried he’d feel broken once he killed the governor, but I’m the one who broke.

My lawyer stands next to me at the press conference, which she suggested to quell the media attention. There’s a book offer that I refuse, much to my lawyer’s disappointment, but Esther understands.

We celebrate afterward. We go to a restaurant before returning to the motel, but I feel like I’m in a world where I don’t belong—everything is fake, like living inside plastic wrap.

I want to run to Grayson, to tell him I’m sorry and that I’m still with him, that I haven’t told anybody anything. But I’m being followed. I won’t be the weak link.

You said you were strong enough. Even if I couldn’t be strong before, I’ll be strong for him now. So I act normal and happy when all I want to do is curl up back in Grayson’s shabby room and feel his stubble on my skin.

Sometimes when I see light fixtures I think, That would be nice in the Bradford Hotel. But I can’t go back there, and I understand now that he won’t come for me. There was a time when it seemed as sure as the sunrise that he’d come for me, but I guess even the sunrise has to stop sometime.





Chapter Forty




Grayson


Anytime I’m out, my eyes are scanning faces, searching for her, and I know that’s how it will always be, because she changed me. Made me into something new. Made me hers.

It’s national news. The trumped-up BS that the small-town cop said to her, about her being an accessory, was thrown out the window. They’ve figured out she’s the victim, which is true. They’re saying my guys and I killed the governor. They’re calling him a hero. Flags fly at half-mast. I want to rip every last one of them down off the poles.