Page 39 of Ghost Walk
A loud pounding on her bedroom door cut off her teasing comment like the shot heard ‘round the world.
“Grace!” Robert bellowed from the hallway. “Open up and talk to me!”
Chapter Eight
June 24, 1789- Anabel Maxwell’s buffoon of a brother Gregory asked to call on me AGAIN!
Obviously I laughed in his face AGAIN! Hero of Yorktown or not, some men just cannot take a hint.
From the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
Grace sat up in bed, anger flashing across her lovely face. “How did he get in here?” She looked more outraged than scared. “I never gave him a key! Did I forget to lock the front door?” She made a frustrated sound. “Even so, what kind of weirdo just walks into his ex-girlfriend’s house, huh?” She belted her robe tighter, preparing to get up. “Is there such a thing as re-dumping, because I think I’m about to have yetanotherawkward conversation with that…”
Jamie cut off her complaints. “Stay quiet, love.” He slowly got to his feet, rage and fear filling him. “Just stay right there and donea do anything to draw his attention.”
Grace had pointedly bolted her bedroom door earlier, as part of her futile effort to keep Jamie out. The wooden barrier was now all that kept her ex from barging in.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Unlike Grace, he didn’t see Robert as some harmless gnat, waiting to be shooed away. The man was twice Grace’s size and nursing a bruised ego. Jamie’s father had always been at his worst when he was trying to prove his manhood andRobert was the same sort of bastard.
Jamie had a vivid recollection of the way Robert had grabbed Grace’s arm and shook her, when she tried to leave his home. He’d manhandled her like he had every right to force compliance. If Robert had the balls to show up here, demanding her attention, he wasn’t going to settle for a firm “no.” That fucking wanker was no gentleman. He sounded half-drunk and belligerent… and he clearly planned to reclaim what he’d lost.
Whether she wanted to be reclaimed or not.
Jamie glanced back at Grace, soul-chilling images flashing through his mind.
Grace chewed her lower lip, picking up on his tension. “You think Robert’s dangerous?” She guessed, obviously not convinced. “Granted, it seems like he’s been drinking, but I don’t matter enough to him to risk jail time.”
“Hematters enough to him. Robert’s convinced himself that you’re his.” Jamie heard the possession in the bastard’s voice whenever he said her name. “That he has a claim to you.”
“I’m not his.”
Jamie’s gaze cut over to her, again. “No, you’re not.” He moved so he was standing between the doorway and the mattress. Between Robert and Grace. …For all the good it would do. Goddamn it, what could he do to protect her when he wasn’t even alive? “Keep the door locked, alright? He wouldn’t have come here unless he was already spinning out of control.”
“I’m not just going to sit in here while…”
“Seeing you will just make him more determined to win.” Jamie insisted, cutting her off again. Desperate for her to understand. “I know you think I’m overreacting, but I’ve met bullies like him before. Liars and arrogant pricks, who think they can take what they want through force and cruelty. I was raised by such a man.”
She frowned. “Your father was abusive?”
“He was a fucking asshole, just like Robert.”
Robert rattled the knob and it held tight. “Grace!” Hecalled, not the least bit apologetic over breaking in. His type never saw their own faults, just the imagined flaws and slights of others. “You’re being childish. How can we discuss this if you’re ignoring me? I just want to talk. You know I won’t harm you, for God’s sake. This is ridiculous.”
“He might go away if I speak with him for a couple minutes.” She offered hesitantly. “It’s the easiest way to handle this.”
“No. Donea open that door.”
Grace silently stared up at him.
The choice was stark: Put her faith in Jamie or in Robert. For one panicked moment, Jamie worried that Grace would refuse to believe her ex-boyfriend was a threat. That she would ignore Jamie’s frantic warnings and let him in.
“Please, love.” He whispered. “Trustmeand not him. Please.”
