Page 95 of Chasing Grace
Pizza delivered by hearse, Gray had refused to eat until she’d taken care of her friend. And as tough as it had been, she’d kept it together, right up until about thirty minutes ago. But to be fair, closing the lid on the shiny black casket had them all choking up.
As soon as the hearse had departed and the loading door hit the ground, she’d cracked the seal on the bottle of vodka procured by Drummond and downed a good slug. Not long after, she’d fallen asleep. All things considered, it was the best state for her to be in at the moment.
“Any word from Adam?” The situation had gone sideways in the last two hours, and they were on high alert. With his eye glued to the scope of his rifle, Tak couldn’t check his secure phone for messages.
“No.” Feeling antsy, Grant shoved his ass off the trunk of the Challenger. Grabbing the MP7, he started circling the perimeter, rechecking what he’d already checked twice. After a three-way call with Mackenzie, they’d decided the warehouse was the safest place to keep Gray.
On his way to Savannah, Mackenzie would be landing at Hodge’s Airpark by midnight. Grant and Tak were to take Gray and meet him there. Mackenzie planned to fly her and Jay Mann to the JTT’s new base.
Grant and Tak would stick around to see if Adam showed.
Once shit settled, Mackenzie would be the one to tell Gray about her father.
Jesus Christ. She’d suffered in the last week, losing not one but three people she’d been close to. According to Grant’s grandmother’s rule of bad things come in threes,the dying should be done. For Gray’s sake, he sincerely fucking hoped so. She was a strong woman, but even she had to have her limits, and if her brother—
“Hoyt?” Tak asked.
“No.” Along with Adam, Canker Face remained the only other member of the JTT still MIA. Everyone else had been accounted for, some in better shape than others in Cody Babbitt’s case. “Z says the fucknut missed the exit in Denver. Hasn’t heard from him since.”
“Must’ve freaked out about the colonel,” Tak said. “Probably took off running.”
“Smart move by Z to keep the deets on the base under wraps.” As a precaution, Z was the only person who knew the exact location of the JTT’s new base. Once a member crossed the Montana State Line, entered the appropriate passcode, and confirmed his identity, Z would send the GPS coordinates. Yesterday, Grant would have said it was overkill. Today…not so much.
As of a couple of hours ago, every member of the JTT wore a target on his back. And Canker Face was a coward. If caught by Johnson’s associates, he’d bend over and grab his anklesaftergiving up everything he knew about the Joint Task Team. Grant bet nobody would shed a tear to see him go.
Just one problem. “The runt has my duffel,” Grant said, thinking out loud, his gaze on the car that had brought them here from the airport. He didn’t give two shits about the duffel or its contents except for one item, his grandfather’s knife. The one thing he had left of the man who’d raised him, and he wanted it back.
“You’ll find him,” Tak said. “By the way, you’re about to get a visitor.” A loud knock on the main entrance door echoed through the warehouse.
“What the fuck? Nice job on the heads-up, asshole.” Grant shook his head as Gray’s pizza slice landed cheese-first on the concrete beside the table.
Tak laughed. “Don’t shoot the kid, Kincaid. His heart is in the right place.”
CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
“It’s a setup.”Five minutes out from the Savannah warehouse, Adam had failed to convince Victor Bodak he faced a firing squad. “Why the fuck do you think Wright sent these two assholes?”
“For the last time,” Donnie Francisco said, twisting in his seat. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”
Wanting to keep the occupants of the vehicle on edge, Adam kept at it. “You’ll be dead in an hour.” As promised, the butt of Francisco’s gun connected with Adam’s cheek, the muzzle hitting with enough force to snap his head to the left.
A warm trickle of blood slid down his face. Turning his gaze back to Francisco, he locked gazes with the man. Adam didn’t need words to express his feelings about being coldcocked.
“Go ahead, Grayson. I dare you,” Francisco said, taking aim.
“Point that thing somewhere else.” Leaning as far from Adam as he could get, Bodak was more concerned about getting blood on his suit than the possibility he might be next. “Losing your hearing, Francisco?”
Adam wasn’t worried. Killing him in the back of the SUV didn’t fit the plan. Well aware Ryerson and Francisco had orders Bodak wasn’t privy to, Adam just had to bide his time and wait for his moment.
The two men in the front seat exchanged a look that should have tipped Bodak off to the precarious position he sat in. Instead, the dumbass had focused on one thing and one thing only. “You’re a tough son of a bitch, Grayson. I’ll give you that much. I hope your sister is too. You know I like it when the cunts fight back. And I have to say, beating her to a pulp will be even more satisfying with an audience. How many rounds you think she’ll go before she’s begging to suck my cock?”
Sadistic urges out of control, Bodak had been running his mouth nonstop, and Adam was acutely aware of what he had in mind for Gray. And when he wasn’t verbally stroking his dick, he stroked his ego. Bodak hadn’t even made it to cruising altitude before he started dishing like a housewife at a Tupperware party.
Thanks to Bodak, Adam knew all about the call from Johnson posing as Mr. Wright, and even if Bodak was too stupid to figure out the rest, Adam wasn’t. Johnson had pulled the plug. It meant his backers were aware their money had gone missing, and they were wasting no time in trying to get it back. So it was no surprise when Ryerson and Francisco had met the plane.
Unable to control himself, Bodak wanted confirmation Gray was still in the warehouse as soon as they had landed. After touching base with someone by phone, Bill Ryerson had provided it. It told Adam two things. Grant Kincaid still had shit covered on the inside, and Takoda Keenan had his sights trained on the outside. For once, Adam was damned relieved his sister never followed orders.
Now the only person he needed to worry about was the asshole keeping an eye on the warehouse for Johnson’s backers.
