Chasing grace a joint ta.., p.13
CHASING GRACE: A Joint Task Team Novel, page 13
Daughter? Grace Emerson was Grace Grayson? Colonel Grayson’s daughter?
Holy shit. Chase’s mind spun with questions. Who had dragged Grace Grayson into the JTT’s mission, and what the fuck did it mean?
“You got video, Mackenzie?”
The colonel’s inquiry snapped Chase back to the issue at hand. “Jay has it loaded, sir.”
“Play it,” the colonel growled.
At the front of the room, the SmartBoard came to life, Gray’s journey up the rock wall the opening scene. In seconds, the video zoomed in to a tight shot of the hella sexy climber’s posterior.
No one dared laugh, but a nudge from Tak had Chase looking from the screen to the identical Grayson glares thrown at him over shoulders holding identically pissed-off postures.
The colonel’s gaze returned to the screen first.
Chase shrugged and mouthed at Gray, “What?” He wagged his finger back and forth between father and daughter. “Pops?”
She mouthed, “Fuck off.”
Despite his mind needing to catch up to reality, he grinned at her, and she flipped him the finger before she turned her back and set her focus on the raw footage.
Since he’d already seen the live version, he watched her instead. Surprised when she gasped and stepped toward the screen, he checked the video for the reason.
There to capture an image of Wright, Chase had captured Sam Black, hands rapidly sighting a high-powered sniper rifle, and preparing to pull the trigger.
The video swung back to Gray in time to capture a bullet slamming against the rock wall a foot from her chest. The last images showed her pushing herself off the ledge and her free fall until she disappeared below the tree line.
The video ended, and the screen went blank.
“Holy fuck,” somebody said.
Chase didn’t have attention to spare for anyone but Gray. Staring at the screen, white as a sheet of paper, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Hands trembling, she took off her watch and pried off the back cover with a fingernail, removing the MIA memory card from its hiding place.
She crossed the room and handed it to Jay. “Load this.” By now, she had everyone’s attention. A hundred thumbnail pictures spread across the big screen. “Scroll. There. Stop. Pull up that one and zoom in.”
Chase watched as a close-up of Sam Black filled the board. As if in a trance, she walked toward the man and touched the image with shaking fingers. Transfixed, they all watched as Gray turned to her father, a mixture of disbelief and cold fury in her eyes.
“Why the fuck is my dead brother shooting at me?”
Dragged into her father’s office by his grip on her elbow, Gray couldn’t sit, stand, or settle. This was too much fuckery for one person to deal with, especially while sober. She didn’t know if she should be laughing or crying or drowning herself in the nearest bottle of hundred proof.
Overwhelmed by the sudden and unexpected resurrection of her brother, her brain stuttered on repeat. He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive. The bastard. She never wanted to kill anyone more.
Except maybe the colonel.
By the surprised reactions of her father’s unit, they hadn’t known about her—or Adam. But she only cared about one person anyway. “Who else knew about this?” Gray stopped pacing while her heart teetered on the verge of breaking.
The colonel sighed. “Your mother knew Adam was alive, Grace.”
A sob caught in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes tight to stop the flood of tears. Thank God. Her mother had known the truth before she died. Relief flooded her chest, turning her limbs to Jello.
Drained by the events of the last two days, she sank onto the couch. Head in her hands, she used her palms to swipe at the tears spilling over. “I want to talk to Adam.” She knew the colonel would refuse. He always refused her demands when it came to her brother.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.”
“You said you spoke to him today. Why can’t I?” She dropped her arms and lifted her blurry gaze. Her father met her eyes, his look direct and unwavering. “Fine. When?”
“Maybe in a day or two, when things settle down.”
“What things?” Gray slammed her back against the couch. In consequence, her hip throbbed, and she sucked in a breath.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” her father asked, breaking into her latest mantra of Adam’s alive.
“No. What I need is to talk to Adam. Since you won’t allow it, how about you tell me what the fuck he’s doing?”
“Where’s Snow?” Disregarding her question, the colonel raised his voice to summon whoever lurked out in the hallway.
No longer a walking advertisement for Playgirl, a fully dressed Cody entered the room. “Sleeping, sir. He returned later than expected but had a look at Gray’s injury when she arrived.”
“We’ve already established it’s a bruise, dickhead. I’m not injured.”
“Which injury?” the colonel demanded.
Groaning, Gray attempted to put the back of her head through the hard pleather. Exhausted and running low on fucks to give, she’d much rather Chase deal with the colonel while she found a bed to fall into.
Just as she started to wonder where he’d gone, he reappeared, cutting off Cody’s response with a dark look. “A six-inch hematoma on her left hip. Doc had a look. She’s fine.”
Her heart tripped at the sight of him, and grateful for the assist, she shot Chase a half smile. It was the most she could manage under the circumstances. She took the hand he offered, and he pulled her upright. Crazy how much she’d come to rely on him in such a short period of time.
“You okay?” he asked, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, soothing her raw nerves with every pass.
She nodded, his calm going a long way to make her right. “I’m okay.” She needed a hot shower, a handful of Tylenol, and forty-eight hours of sleep. But when she came to, she planned to eat an entire cow, curse out her brother, and have her way with Sergeant Chase Mackenzie. Quite possibly not in that order. “I’m going to find a bed.” She squeezed his hand before letting go, hoping he got the hint and wrapped this up quick.
“I have questions, Grace.”
Halfway to the door, she threw out over her shoulder, “Ask your sergeant, Colonel.” Not watching where she stepped, she almost smacked nose-first into the man entering.
The corporal who brushed by her had a face like a canker. White and puffy in the middle, red and sore around the edges. The colonel’s personal assistant, Peter Hoyt, had been trailing along in her father’s wake for years—a yes-man to the core.
“Thank God you’re back, Mackenzie.” Canker slid a sly smile her way, and Gray had never felt a greater need for an immediate acid-based shower. “Your fiancée’s been calling every couple of hours. Do me a favor. Call her back, so she quits with the voice mails. She’s bogging up my system.”
Gray froze mid-retreat, the word “fiancée” echoing in her head before it sank in and tore her apart. The memory of Chase’s kisses invaded, and suddenly, “we can’t do this” took on a whole new meaning.
“It’s taken care of.” Cold as an arctic stone, Chase’s tone sent ice water through her veins. The bastard had left her alone with her father to run off and call his fiancée.
Oh God. Don’t vomit. Don’t vomit. Don’t—
In two short days, she’d broken every rule she ever made when it came to men. No Type A control freaks, no married-to-the-military fuckers, and no cheating bastards. Based on her limited exposure to Chase Mackenzie, he was all three.
Exactly like her father.
“Gray…” Voice wary, Chase took a step closer.
“No.” She shook her head and took a step back.
“Gray, it’s not—”
“No.” Panic took hold, setting her instincts to flight mode. She backed herself toward the door, picking up momentum with each step. About to turn and make a run for it, she came to an abrupt halt when her father stopped her with the only two words that could. “Grace Grayson.”
Hands balled into fists and nails digging into her palms, she froze. “What?”
“Why?”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. She knew what he wanted. Answers. Well, too fucking bad. She didn’t know why Jackson had sent her up onto that ledge. He’d asked her to go, and she went.
It was that simple. And that complicated.
Apparently, the look she leveled at the colonel spoke volumes because his agitation went up significantly. He shoved his phone across his desk, pointing to it for added emphasis. “Fucking Jackson. Get him on the phone right now.”
“Can’t.” Gray refused to look at anyone but the colonel.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know his number.”
“Bullshit.”
“Do you know mine?” Gray cocked a brow and waited for a heartbeat. “Yeah, didn’t think so, Pops.”
“So, look it up on your phone,” the colonel ordered.
She snorted. “Well, I would. But my phone was confiscated.” Meeting Chase’s gaze for the first time, she said with as much indifference as she could muster. “Look under cheating bastards in my contacts. Jackson’s there too.”
Point made, she lifted her chin and left the office without another word.
“Where the hell is she going?” Canker asked.
Cody growled, “Shut the fuck up, Hoyt.”
“Babbitt.” Chase’s deep voice issued his order in a word.
“On it.” Cody’s automatic response told Gray two things. She’d picked up a two-hundred-pound tail. And Chase Mackenzie wasn’t about to let her go so easy.
Yeah. Like she gave a fuck.
Without a clue as to which direction she should go in, she started running.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sitting behind his desk, the colonel looked as tired as Chase had ever seen him. “Is there something going on between you and my daughter I should know about?”
“Not yet, sir.” And probably never if she had her way about it. Nuclear explosion Gray, he could deal with. Quiet fallout Gray had him on edge. He had to get her alone as soon as possible, because as far as he was concerned, never was not an option, and right now wasn’t soon enough.
“And your fiancée? Holly, is it?”
“Holly hasn’t been my fiancée since she broke it off seven months ago.”
“Then why the phone calls?”
Chase shrugged. “I’m behind on the paperwork, and she needs my signature to sell the house and close our accounts.”
“Jesus, Mackenzie. You’re taking your sweet-ass time.”
“Been a little busy, Colonel.”
“And Grace?”
“Not too busy for her, sir.”
“I don’t suppose I have to tell you. She’s hard on the head.” The colonel rubbed a hand over his face, and Chase noted the dull metal of the wedding band circling his finger. A lifetime of nicks, scratches, and dents etched in gold.
Despite his worry, Chase couldn’t help but smile. “No, sir.” She was her father’s daughter, after all. Hard on the head came with the territory.
“I don’t suppose I have to tell you. She’ll try to bolt as soon as possible.”
“I’ve already taken the necessary precautions.” Chase trusted his five JTT sidekicks with his own life. Putting Gray in their hands when she wasn’t in his was a no-brainer. Not that he intended to let her get too damn far from his hands, although, at present, she might have a different opinion on the matter.
The colonel took a moment, his gaze critical. “She’s not going to make this easy for you, Sergeant.”
“I’m aware of that, Colonel.”
“Well, you never did take the easy road.”
“No, sir.”
The colonel shook his head, his less than sympathetic expression indicating his appreciation of his daughter’s capabilities. “Well, good luck then, Mackenzie. I’ll leave her to you.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“Don’t thank me yet, dumbass. Grace is about to feed you your own balls for breakfast.”
Chase laughed. “She’s definitely going to try.”
The issue of his daughter dealt with, the colonel moved on. “Jackson Lowe is in Washington. I want him located and a recovery team en route ASAP. We need to know what his involvement is. If he has information on Wright, I want it by morning.”
“Jay’s on it.” If anyone could find Jackson fast, it was Jay Mann. A tech wizard with mad computer skills, he had a way of finding information buried so deep, half the time it was in Chinese.
“Good. One last thing, before you go head-to-head with my daughter. Grant Kincaid is in Palo Pinto.”
Chase snapped to attention, an immediate desire to eliminate the threat to Gray flooding his system with the urge to kill.
Colonel Grayson shook his head. “Easy, Sergeant. Kincaid already had his chance in Everett, and he didn’t take it.”
Chase’s clenched jaw twitched in frustration. “He fired his weapon three times.”
“Warning shots.” Colonel Grayson waved his hand in dismissal. “He works for Adam, and he’s here to assist with protecting Gray. His orders are to stay off her radar, keep an eye out for any of Bodak’s bastards, and to advise you if they get too close. Nothing more.”
Disbelief had Chase shaking his head. “With all due respect, sir. I don’t know your son, but as Sam Black, he put a bullet into a rock wall a foot from Gray’s chest. I’m not sure he should be the judge of what’s best for her safety.”
Colonel Grayson frowned. “Had to be done.”
“Sir?”
“You may not know Adam, but he knows you. He knows his sister too. Better than anyone. The threat to her life had to be credible to get both your asses moving in the same direction. That bullet accomplished exactly what he meant it to.”
“You’re saying he knew I was there?”
“I’m saying he has full details on all mission parameters. He knew you were somewhere in Cougar Canyon. But if it makes you feel any better, he wasn’t able to detect your exact location.”
“Sir—”
The colonel threw up a palm. “I get it, Mackenzie. You have questions. Corporal Hoyt’s arranging for a full debrief at zero seven hundred. You’ll get your answers along with the rest of the JTT. Until then—you have my daughter to deal with.”
“Yes, sir.” Dismissed, Chase’s entire focus turned to Gray. He needed to get to her and fast. Regardless of Adam Grayson’s opinion and the colonel’s faith in his son’s ability to judge character, Chase didn’t know Grant Kincaid, and he sure as fuck didn’t trust him.
“Sergeant.”
One foot already out the door, he looked over his shoulder at Gray’s father. “Sir?”
“To be clear, Kincaid is off-limits unless he proves to be a direct threat to my daughter or the mission. Understood?”
For the first time in the course of his career, Chase hesitated in acknowledging his orders.
The delay didn’t go over well, and the colonel’s gaze turned sharp enough to cut steel. “Understood, Sergeant?”
He gave an affirmative, albeit reluctant, nod. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
Under the watchful eye of her newfound security detail, Gray had already downed her first glass of cheap-ass vodka by the time Chase found her exactly where he’d arranged for her to be. In his room. Well, his and Tak’s room. Apparently, free beds were at a premium, and there were no vacancies at the inn.
“All I’m asking for is five minutes,” Chase said.
“I’m busy.” She couldn’t look at him as she set her glass on the small table serving as her personal bar. Keeping her hand steady while she poured another drink took some effort, but she managed to refrain from spilling any of the vile liquid before she replaced the cap.
“I want to talk to you. Alone.”
“And I want you to go fuck yourself.” Gray waved the bottle in his general direction. “You think either one of us is getting what we want tonight?”
Irritated and possibly taking offense to her suggestion, Chase grabbed the vodka from her hand and threw it across the room. Being plastic, the bottle bounced off the wall, and Tak had to dodge the ricochet.
“Hey!” Gray swept her gaze back to Chase, anger quickly replacing the hurt she’d been nursing. “Does your fiancée know you throw shit when you’re pissed?”
Unsuccessfully trying to hide the fact he found the situation hilarious, Cody snorted and retrieved the missile from the scarred plank at his feet, setting it on the table beside the chair he’d hunkered down in.
“Goddamn it, I don’t have a fiancée. Come talk to me outside, and I’ll explain.” Chase’s dark expression suggested he found nothing remotely funny about the situation.
Well, fuck him. Neither did she. Fiancée or not, he had obligations to another woman, otherwise why would she be calling? Nope. She was done with him and his “trust me” bullshit.
While he’d been talking to the colonel, she’d made new plans. None of them involved Chase Mackenzie, but they did involve alcohol. She reached for her drink, and he made to grab her wrist. Too slow. She knew him well enough by now to snatch her glass and back up fast. As an extra precaution, she drained the vodka in three swallows.
“We need to talk about this, Gray.”
Making a face like she’d chugged vinegar, she waved her hand back and forth between them to make sure Chase got her meaning. “There is no this, asshole.”
“Goddamn it, I want to talk to you alone.”
She threw herself into the last free chair and grimaced. She’d forgotten her sore hip. “Let me check my give-a-shit-o-meter.” She looked at the ceiling, then back at him, shaking her head. “Nope. I got nothing.”
Getting nowhere fast with her, Chase addressed her military escorts. “Can we have a minute here.”
He hadn’t asked a question. He’d given a command. And she knew the difference.
Before her prison guards could execute the order, she deadpanned, “If they leave, I leave.” Already half out of his chair, Cody gingerly sank his ass back down.
