Page 122 of Our Broken Pieces
I return to Gigi’s suite to find Jax and Linc have joined their women.
When I walk into the room, Linc rises from his seat by Melonie. “Marcus, have you heard anything?”
I shake my head.
“We still have some time, right?” Jax asks, his face shallow with concern.
I nod. “My dad is helping. He has the police scanning video footage from around the city.”
Linc looks confused. “Your dad offered to help?”
“He did. He also apologized for being an asshole all these years. It’s sort of been a crazy hour.”
My phone rings. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son, they have footage of Gigi being pulled into an SUV by a couple of men last evening around seven-thirty a few blocks away. They ran the license plate, and it’s Grace’s car. They scanned the webcams for the license plate and tracked the car to an apartment building.”
I tug at my curls, knowing we’re close. “What’s next?”
“The police are coordinating to go to the apartment. They gave me the address and said we can meet there in an hour. They don’t want you or a vehicle to give anything away.”
I blow out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Gigi
Grace has left the news channel on, as if she wants me to suffer by watching each agonizing minute tick by. The past two hours feel like an eternity. The clock on the screen seems to move in slow motion, taunting me.
Grace and her goons have been holed up in the kitchen for a while now, and the smell of their breakfast was torture, especially since I wasn’t allowed any food. My stomach is twisted in knots from hunger—I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I hear the clattering of dishes and then Grace’s voice, sharp and cold.
“Send the account information. I’m going to get the girl ready.”
Her footsteps approach, and she enters the living room with a smirk. “Time to get ready, Gigi.” She grabs my arm roughly, jerking me to my feet, and motions toward the hallway. We head into her room, where she forces me into the adjoining bathroom. A pile of clothes sits on the counter.
She snips the zip ties binding my wrists, and a dull ache spreads through my arms as blood rushes back into them. My skin is raw and red where the plastic cut into me.
“Get dressed. Leave your clothes on the counter when you’re done,” she snaps.
I glare at her, defiance flaring. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
She raises an eyebrow, her mouth curling in a sneer. “We’ll see. You’ve got ten minutes to pull yourself together. We’re leaving.”
I hesitate, my voice tight. “Why me? Why are you doing this?”
She crosses her arms, her gaze cold. “Why you?” she scoffs. “Because I knew you as a child, watched your idiot parents ruin themselves. They couldn’t stay clean or keep out of trouble. A few months before they died, your mother mentioned you. We looked you up, saw you’d scraped together a half-decent life. I kept tabs every now and then. Then you posted about Marcus, and I realized how pathetic it was—marrying him for his money. Made you the perfect target.”
I clench my fists. “I’m not marrying him for his money.”
She laughs, the sound sharp and mocking. “I doubt you’re marrying for love.”
She slams the door shut, leaving me alone. The silence presses down on me as I let out a heavy breath. It’s hard to imagine my parents glimpsing my life from afar but never reaching out. Maybe they were just too weak to face what they left behind.
I head to the toilet first, buying time. I undress, down to my underwear, when suddenly there’s a loud banging on the frontdoor. My heart leaps into my throat. I press my ear against the bathroom door, straining to hear. Muffled voices reach me, then more banging, this time louder. My pulse races, skin prickling with a mix of fear and hope. Unfamiliar male voices shout commands, and I freeze, barely breathing.
The voices grow nearer. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I grab a towel from the rack and wrap it around myself, trembling.
The bathroom door swings open with a crash, and I scream, instinctively backing into the corner. A man steps in—an officer, I realize through the chaos in my mind.
