Page 8 of Lesson In Forgiveness

“I need you to check all Ledston’s records, Archie. The file you have and the one Elias has are not the same. You know Tabitha personally; verify that my suspicions are correct.” He ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Where is she now, Elias?”

Fingers flying over the screen, he clicked on a schedule. “Her crew is working on the medical play cabin today.”

“Jesus Christ,” Archie butted in. “Do not tell Jasper you’re building one of those.”

Snorting, Grit glanced over to the building in question, studying the manic buzz of activity. There was a distinct possibility he’d meet resistance from the crew if he tried to take her down there, but he wondered if she’d come quietly when faced with an audience.

Not likely, he decided. Killers didn’t care who got in the way, not if bystanders were blocking the route to a target, or escape.

“Go back to the office,” Grit ordered Elias in a hard tone, gesturing to the on-site portacabin. “Get inside, make sure Callie and Evander haven’t gone off somewhere, then lock the door. Don’t answer it for anyone except me. Is that clear?”

“Are the crews at risk?” he demanded.

“No. Tabitha isn’t like that anymore,” was Anarchy’s input.

She also hadn’t been put in a position where she was trapped with someone intent on taking her down, Grit thought sourly. Self-preservation was the instinct of all humankind, aside from the idiots who had none. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Anarchy. We’re treating her as an unknown quantity, which means I have to view her as a threat.”

“For God’s sake,” she huffed.

“Her own brother admits she’s a few cards short of a deck,” he pointed out.

“Managed to sneak in and hang around under your nose for a month though, didn’t she? If she didn’t have self-control or at least a few more cards in that deck, she’d have stood out instantly. Instead, she’s been doing what she does best without you being the wiser.”

Oh, he hated having his failures rubbed in his face. His shoulders squared, ready to take on the bratty hacker in a verbal sparring match.

“Now, now, children. Stop before someone says something that can’t be taken back,” Eli chided in a mocking tone. “Lunch is in ten minutes, Grit. All the crews will break and head over to the food truck. Joe’s made a note on her file that she doesn’t break with the rest of the crew, she just keeps working. Takes the extra half-hour on her paycheck instead.”

Well, that might work. In fact, that might work better than expected.

“Lock you and your family down,” Grit repeated. “Anarchy, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Yes, boss,” she snapped, ending the call.

“Why are you still standing here?” he asked Elias. “Inside, now.”

For a heartbeat, dominance rammed into dominance like two mountain goats locking horns. Prepared for a battle of wills as their eyes met, Grit wondered how the fuck Eli and Evander got through any given day without coming to blows.

It seemed today, however, common sense was one of the Brit’s finer skills; with a nod, he took a step back, hesitated, then said simply, “I’d appreciate it if you take care, Rory. I’d hate to see anything happen to you on my behalf.”

Grimacing at the use of his real name, Grit just inclined his head. “This is my job. I can handle it.” It being a pint-sized pot of crazy. “Thanks for your concern.”

The older man walked away, heading directly for the portacabin. Keeping his eye on him, Grit monitored the flow of people around him, then breathed a sigh of relief when he disappeared inside the office. Casually, he wandered toward the medical play building, admiring the rustic theme.

Evidently, Evander was choosing to stick with the log cabin design throughout the site. To an outsider, even from an aerial view, the entire site would appear to be nothing more than a collection of vacation lodges.

They weren’t skimping on windows, he mused, in quantity or size. Making the most of natural daylight, protected by privacy tints.

Not for the first time since his arrival, Grit found himself being envious of the future Doms who’d get to play here. There was a special kind of peace in this valley he couldn’t find in Phoenix. Despite the fact he was on edge all the damn time because of Tabitha, he believed Serenity was going to live up to its name.

A whistle blew from across the site, sharp and shrill. The symphony of sawing, hammering, singing, chattering trailed off in stages as the crews set down their tools and headed over to the food truck. Music from the radios continued to play, and inside the med-play cabin, a lone hammer marched on to its own beat.

Standing to one side, Grit waited for a minute as two men hurried out after the rest of their crew, swiping off their safety gear. His phone dinged with a text.

Positive ID confirmed.

Game on, he thought with delight. Returning his phone to his pocket, he reached into the small of his back and tugged his gun from the waistband of his jeans. Double-checking the safety and the load, he tucked it back in its hiding spot.

“Here I come,” he muttered. “Ready or not.”

---