Page 49 of For Love & Torture
Chapter 22
Isabel
Leaving the house, the goosebumps that have pebbled my flesh finally recede. “That was off the chain, Grant.” I slip into the passenger seat of his Jaguar and buckle my seat belt.
The expression he’s wearing leaves little doubt that he’s wondering how the hell he’s going to accomplish the things he told his mother’s ghost he would. His hands grip the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Off the chain… yeah.”
Reaching over, I place my hand over his. His eyes are drawn to our joined hands, before he slowly turns his head to meet my eyes. “Grant, you can achieve the goals you’ve set for yourself. And you have me to help you. I can find the right people to help you. I can. No need to look so grim. We’ve got this.”
“Do we?” His eyes droop then he drops his head to rest on the steering wheel. “I just don’t know if I can get Dad back to who he was.”
“Baby, your father will never be exactly the same man he was before his wife died. He lost a piece of himself that can never be replaced. But you can get him the mental help he needs. If he can be proven innocent, that is.” Pulling my hand away from his, I give him a nod. “Come on, let’s get back home.”
Starting the car, we head that way, but he’s too quiet. It makes me worry that he’s trying to slip back into the shell he’s created, the one he’s been hiding in since I’ve known him. But I’m at a loss for what to say to bring him around.
Stopping at a red light, I notice a car pulling up next to us. The windows of Grant’s car are tinted so darkly that I know the man can’t see in, but that doesn’t stop him from staring.
It’s as if he’s looking right into my eyes. And he seems familiar. Then his mouth moves and I think he’s saying my name.
Blinking, I try to match the face to a name. Grant takes off, leaving the other car behind and the name hits me. “Mason. Bart Mason.”
“What?” Grant gives me a sideways glance as he moves through traffic.
“I think I just saw Bart Mason and I think he said my name. But that’s impossible, right?” I shake my head and look back to see if I can spot the car he was in.
“No one can see through these windows. I mean they can make out shapes, but they can’t recognize anyone.” He zigs and zags between a couple of cars and hits the gas, taking us down the highway.
Grant loves speed. He doesn’t own a single car that’s not a sports car. So one can imagine my surprise when we’re speeding down the road and a car comes up next to us, matching our speed. I gasp. “It is him, Grant! Look.”
Bart Mason is right next to us, driving something that’s as fast as Grant's Jaguar, but I can’t make out what kind of car it is. What I can make out is the fact that Bart is looking right at me.
“Fuck!” Grant shouts as he pounds the steering wheel. “Well, we can’t go home now. I don’t want that cock-sucker to know where we live.”
“We can take the next exit and go to the club. Should we do that?” I wave at Bart, and he waves back. “How the fuck can he see me?”
Grant slows a bit, leaving Bart to sail along at his higher speed. Then Grant changes lanes and takes the exit Bart has missed—if he was trying to follow us, that is. “Good, he’s not heading to the club. Did you find out if his background check came back clear?”
“Betty’s taking care of him, just like you told me to do. I don’t know anything about the man or his status at the club.” I watch as Grant heads to the club even though we’ve lost Bart. “I don’t think we need to go there anymore, Grant. He’s obviously got somewhere he’s going already. We can head home.”
I look at him, and it’s only then that I notice his face is red and his chest is heaving with deep breaths. “Head home? I don’t think so. I want to get to the club and find out all I can about the man.”
Sighing, I lean my head back against the headrest. I was hoping to get home and climb into bed and have a somewhat normal night with the man who had just been making such great strides.
But I’m not getting my wish, thanks to his obsession with Bart Mason. And now I have to wrap my head around the fact that I’ll be going into the club, even though I’ve called in to take a personal day.
Parking in the garage, Grant gets out with such great haste, he leaves me behind. I jog to catch up, glad I wore jeans and tennis shoes for his little family reunion/séance thingy. “Grant, can you please calm the hell down? You’re acting like a madman for the love of God.”
Grant stops so quickly that I take another three steps before I even notice. I turn to find him shaking with his anger. “You don’t get it. I don’t see how you don’t get it, Bell. The guy wants you—wants to do things to you that only I’m allowed to do. And he’s not right. Something isn’t right about him. I can’t see how you’re so completely blind to it. It’s as obvious as the nose on my face, yet you can’t see it.”
“I can admit he’s dark. But fuck, so are a lot of men who come here. That’s kind of the draw of this kind of place—allowing people a way to let their darkness show.” I reach out and take his hand. “Can you at least calm down. I’m going to help you find out all you can about him. And you know I’m not about to share myself with anyone but you. I promise you that.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he steadies himself. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to think I’m nuts? I mean you saw what happened at my parents’ place. I never realized it until Mom came to me and I was the only one who could hear her voice, but I think I have something most people don’t. A gift. And I knew the moment I looked into that man’s eyes that he was hiding something. A very sinister something.”
Okay, so he doesn’t want me to think he’s nuts but he tells me something that makes him sound absolutely nuts. But he’s my man, although technically we’re still keeping that on the down low. “Okay, baby. Come on inside and let’s see what comes up on the guy.”
With my support, he calms down, and we proceed into the back entrance where the offices are. Just as we get inside one of the other owners, Tad Johnson sees Grant and smiles. “So you have decided to join us tonight. We were all wondering about you, Mr. J.”
Grant gives me a sideways glance. “See to what I told you to please.”
