Page 58 of Chasing Grace
“Yes, now. Jackson Lowe’s death was no accident, and Grace may have information that can stop thousands more from dying. We can’t wait any longer.”
“I want to call Tara. Please! I need to speak to her.” Her tears continued to fall. Oh God. Jackson was dead. She rocked back and forth, the initial shock starting to wear off, her brain filled with too many thoughts to process.
With a shuddering breath, she attempted to pull herself together. Tara’s oncologist appointment had taken place yesterday, and Gray still hadn’t been able to reach her. Steeling her spine, she wiped her face with the blanket and lifted her gaze. “Please, Chase. It’s important. She’ll be worried about me, and I don’t want her to be. Let me make the call, and I’ll answer all your questions.”
Didn’t matter that she had no information to give. Jackson hadn’t given her any. And now it was too late. Chase sat beside her, his phone in his hand. “One call, Colonel. She deserves that much.”
Her father nodded, and bargain struck, she took the heavy phone offered. Fingers shaking, she had to correct two numbers, two times, before she could hit send. Tara’s phone rang repeatedly, and Gray’s heart squeezed to the point of bursting when voice mail kicked in. “Hey, T. It’s me. You probably saw the news about Jackson.” She choked back a sob. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay. I’ll call you back later. Love you. Bye.”
She gave the phone back to Chase, and with a swipe of his thumb, he ended the call.
“Are you ready now?” her father asked.
A strong, capable hand claimed hers, and fingers entwined together, Chase’s reassuring squeeze held her together. She took a deep breath, then another, and when the threat of more tears passed, she nodded and replied, “Bring it on, Pops.”
“She still breathing?”
Chase looked from Gray curled in the corner of the couch in her father’s office to the asshole who’d entered. “Get lost, Hoyt. Go get the colonel, and don’t come back.”
The corporal looked like he wanted to object to his orders but beat feet quick when Chase straightened from his crouch and stretched to his full height. He still wanted to lights out the prick after the fiancée stunt he pulled yesterday, and the little cling-on was aware of the threat.
Chase still hadn’t been able to explain himself to Gray fully. And by the looks of things, tonight would be another write-off. Heartbeat reassuringly slow and steady, she was passed out with a half-empty bottle of Clase Azul Tequila snuggled in her lap. He freed the bottle, and she sighed heavily, throwing her arm over her eyes as though the light bothered her.
“Damn it. I was saving that,” Colonel Grayson grumbled when he entered.
“Was it full, sir?” Chase handed the bottle to Gray’s father.
“Yes.” He looked her over, his worried expression betraying his true level of concern regarding his daughter’s current state of consciousness, or rather lack thereof. “Should we call Doc?”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” The colonel might not know Gray had a certain amount of experience turning her blood into alcohol, but Chase did.
“What are we going to do with her?”
Chase considered the colonel’s question. Did he want to know what they should do with her tonight? Or what they should do with her in general? Either way, he’d already decided.
Tonight, he planned to put her to bed. Tomorrow night, he planned totakeher to bed, and then every damn night after that too. He flipped aside the blanket covering her bare legs, scooped her up, and faced the colonel.
“Well, sir, I’m going to put your daughter to bed.” She moaned, throwing a hand over his shoulder and burying her nose in his neck. With his chin, he pointed at the bottle in the colonel’s hand. “You look like you could use a shot of tequila yourself.”
The colonel’s sigh hinted at his relief, and his sharp nod indicated his approval of the proposed short-term plan. Dismissed, Chase left with his girl back in his arms where she belonged. Now all he had to do was convince her he wasn’t a complete asshole, and his long-term plan would be all set.
“Vodka coma?” Jay asked as Chase stepped out into the hallway.
He wasn’t at all surprised Jay knew about Gray’s liquor preference. A small, tight-knit group, the members of the JTT gossiped like fifteen-year-old girls at a slumber party. He laughed and said, “Tequila.”
“That’s going to suck in the morning.”
He snorted his agreement. “She’s had a rough couple of days.” Running through the list of crap she’d been through, he couldn’t believe she was still standing. Sort of. “Did you get anything off her phone?”
He used the toe of his boot to swing open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch before it could slam back into place. Cooler than inside, Gray noticed the temperature change and tried to burrow into his chest.
“Sorry, Mac. Your girl wasn’t lying. She had no clue what she was doing on that ledge.”
Jay’s frown indicated he had more to say about it, so Chase hitched his head in the direction of the crib, and they stepped off the porch together, the last stair groaning under their combined weights.
The moon hung full and low, leaving a trail of shimmering silver along the dark ground. Light enough for him to see Jay’s face clearly, Chase cocked a brow in inquiry.
“Jackson was an asshole.”
