His second chance, p.22
His Second Chance, page 22
“Scream and I’ll carve up that pretty little face of yours.”
Chapter Thirty
Grant watched his brothers heading toward the car, already thinking of the night ahead with Sophie.
“Oh, wait,” he called out. “Emmett would you mind signing Sophie’s book? I wanted to surprise her.”
Emmett walked back up the few steps. “Sure. Although I have no idea why the woman is buying my books. I can get her free copies.”
“I don’t even know why she’d want to read them at all,” Aaron said, laughing. “Your books suck”
“Let me go get it.” Grant raced inside and up the stairs to Sophie’s bedside table. He opened the top drawer and grabbed the paperback, but noticed a folder underneath.
Knowing he shouldn’t, he pulled the file out. The tab on top read “S. Day v. G. Sumner.” What the fuck? Were these the divorce papers? Sophie had yet to send them to him.
The pages were folded to the last page of the packet. He scanned the paper, finding Sophie’s signature on the line titled “Respectfully submitted by.”
She’d signed the papers. And brought them here. She’d lied to him.
Grant sank down on the bed, staring off blankly at the wall in front of him. Had she signed them before she came? Or was this something she’d decided in the last few days? He thought they were headed in the right direction. He’d believed her when she said she wanted to work on their relationship, but seeing her signature on the page was like a punch to the gut. He could only pray she’d signed the papers before their time in the cabin.
“No!” A woman’s cry outside had him sitting straight up. Sophie’s cry. His heart rate spiked and his hands trembled. Sophie was in trouble. He dropped the folder and jumped to his feet, racing to the window. Something was wrong, very wrong.
A man stood in dark pants and jacket on the other side of the yard, near the edge of the woods. Grant recognized the jacket that had “security” emblazoned across the back. This was someone from Sophie’s security team. But something was wrong.
Slowly his brain caught up to what his eyes were seeing.
This man wasn’t protecting Sophie. He was holding her against his body, her blonde hair whipping around them both. There was a glint of metal, the long blade of a knife shimmering in the glow of the setting sun.
Grant stumbled down the steep steps of the loft and raced toward the door, throwing it open and nearly falling off the porch as he jumped down the stairs. He had to get to Sophie, as quickly as possible.
Sophie swallowed hard, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She tried to think of the moves she’d seen on the self-defense video Jackie had made her watch. She knew she should have taken the actual course like her sister had suggested after the first time this man showed up.
Recalling one move, she raised her knee, hoping to stomp his foot. The cold blade pressed against her cheek.
“Put your foot down,” his raspy voice said against her ear. “Don’t fight and I won’t hurt you.”
That was a lie. She knew it deep to her core. He wanted to hurt her. That’s why he was here.
“What do you want?” she mumbled against his forearm that was still pressed against her mouth.
“I already told you. I want you to stop dressing like a fucking slut.”
“But I haven’t been on stage in weeks.”
“I know. It’s the only thing that’s saved you and your pretty little face.”
Sophie hoped maybe reasoning with this guy, getting him to talk so he might lower his guard, would help. If she could hold on long enough, Grant would come. She just needed to keep them both near the house and not let him take her deeper into the woods.
Steadying her nerves, she willed herself to speak in a calm voice. “Why does it matter to you how I dress?”
“Don’t you know how many impressionable girls watch you? Girls who want to be like you?” He leaned closer to her ear, his warm breath brushing her neck, sending chills down her spine. “My girl,” he growled.
Oh, no. “Your daughter?”
“My step daughter,” he said, emphasizing the step part. “She’s got posters of you plastered all over her room. And now she’s a fucking slut, just like you. Went and got herself knocked up.”
He moved his arm, pressing the cold blade of the knife even harder against her skin. The wind around them picked up, whipping her hair.
Please, Grant, she prayed. I need you, please.
“No!” Sophie heard Elle cry from behind them.
The attacker turned at the sound and Sophie moved to wiggle free but his grip tightened, along with the pressure of the blade against her cheek.
“Let her go!” a male voice called from the other direction. Was it Jake? Or Emmett?
Pain shot across Sophie’s cheek as she felt the blade cut across her skin. A warm trickle of blood rolled down her face. Tears welled in her eyes but she willed herself to stay focused, stay calm.
“No!” came a guttural voice behind them.
Grant.
“No!” he yelled again, his one word sounding like a war cry.
The stalker turned them both to face him.
Grant came rushing toward them, hands in the air, his eyes wild with fury.
“Grant, no!” she yelled.
The man raised the knife at him and Grant stopped a few feet away. “Stay the fuck back or I swear I will carve her face up so bad, not even you will recognize her.”
The stalker’s arm gripped her tighter against his chest, pinning her in place.
“Hey, asshole!” A deep voice called from behind them.
The man spun, loosening his grip.
Sophie elbowed him in the stomach and wiggled free from his hold.
“Run!” Grant yelled as he reached for her attacker, launching himself at the man.
The stalker turned back toward Grant, knife flashing high in the air.
“Grant, no!” She rushed toward him, her eyes focused solely on him.
Suddenly the sounded of something snapping caught her attention. It wasn’t a branch. The noise sounded like a bone breaking.
The stalker fell to his knees with a cry of agony that echoed through the woods.
She stared down as Emmett pounced on top of the man. It had been Emmett’s voice calling from behind them, distracting the stalker so she could get away.
The stalker was face down in the snow, Emmett on top of him as Aaron and Jake came to hold down his arms and legs.
Sophie’s head spun as she searched the area. “Grant? Where are you?”
He moaned from a few yards away.
She spotted him on his knees, hands pressed to his abdomen. As he pulled them away, she saw the blood. Sophie screamed at the sight.
Grant’s eyes rolled up to meet hers as they glazed over. “Blood,” he whispered.
Before Sophie could reach him, Grant fell to his side, his body laying limp in the snow, eyes closed.
“Grant, oh God, no, Grant!” She raced toward him, praying she wasn’t too late.
Aaron reached his brother first, sitting beside him on the ground.
“Oh, Grant,” she cried out, falling to her knees on the other side. She watched helplessly as Aaron moved with intent, the doctor in him taking over and commanding the situation.
Aaron barked out orders and someone beside them began making phone calls.
Sophie could only watch and pray as everything else around her faded away, her sight solely focused on Grant’s ashen face.
Two weeks ago, she thought she might have to live without him and she hadn’t known if she could do it. Now, the choice might not be her own. And that thought terrified her. She wasn’t ready to lose the man she loved. She wasn’t ready to give up the love they’d found together. It might not be perfect, but it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grant lay on his side, his body trembling as a fresh wave of nausea pounded in his gut. He’d never done well with blood. It was something his special effects teams had a hard time with on set.
Thankfully he couldn’t see his injury, but the memory of blood covering his hands was enough to send his stomach lurching again.
He closed his eyes but opened them when he heard Sophie’s cries of distress. She was hurt. He tried to sit up but a hand pushed him back down. Then, as if from a dream, Sophie was next to him, her hands on his face. Her cheeks were stained with tears.
He tried to speak, to tell her not to cry, but he was feeling woozy and his words came out slurred.
“Shhh,” she murmured, “don’t try to talk.”
Grant turned his head at the sound of a scuffle not far from them.
Jake and Emmett were on top of the asshole who’d hurt Sophie. They had him pinned to the ground. She was safe. His Sophie was safe. Turning back to face her he noticed tears streaming down her face. “No,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
He reached out to touch her and noticed the blood on her cheek where the knife had cut her. Instead of feeling nauseous, he felt rage, red hot anger. He wanted to rip that motherfucker’s head off.
Grant gaze scanned Sophie’s body, looking for any other injuries. She appeared to be all right.
Aaron loomed over him, rolling him to his back and applying pressure to his stomach.
“Ow,” he moaned.
“Suck it up, baby,” Aaron said.
Grant looked down at his shirt stained with blood and felt the rush of bile in his throat.
Sophie squeezed his hand and caressed his face. “You’re going to be fine.” She looked up, toward the road. “You hear that? There’s an ambulance on the way.”
His eyes fluttered closed, for how long he didn’t know, but when he opened them again, he noticed flashing lights and a crowd of people surrounding them, holding huge bags. They were EMTs.
“Check Sophie, first,” he rasped out. “She’s hurt.”
She looked pale and shaken. She was strong but even he knew she was struggling to handle this traumatic event. She had to be frightened to the core after that experience, who wouldn’t be.
“Can you sit up?” Aaron asked.
Grant nodded and blinked a few times. A uniformed officer man walked up next to him. He squinted, studying him intently. “Bobby Turner? Is that you?”
The sheriff smiled. “Yeah, it’s me. I’ve changed a little.”
Grant looked the man up and down. He must have been at least six-four and well over two hundred and fifty pounds, all muscle. The Incredible Hulk lookalike standing in front of him was a far cry from the chubby kid Grant remembered.
“Um, yeah, I’d say so.” He laughed but winced from the pain in his mid-section. “You look good.”
“Thanks.” Bobby surveyed Grant from head to toe. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Flesh wound, pussy,” Aaron mumbled in his ear as he lifted the shirt he’d been using for pressure and let the EMTs apply sterile bandages.
“You got pretty lucky out there it sounds like.” Bobby looked over to where two other officers were placing their attacker into a marked vehicle. “Mr. Tindol could have done a lot more damage with that knife.”
Grant didn’t want to think what the man could have done with Sophie if he’d grabbed her farther out in the woods where no one could hear her scream.
“Is that his name?” Sophie asked, staring up at the sheriff, eyes wide.
“Yes. We found I.D. in the rental car he drove a few miles up the road. His name is Edmund Randolph Tindol. Ring any bells?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, but I recognize him as the man who approached me at one of my signings. He got a little aggressive. My security staff suspects he was the one who broke into my house in Los Angeles and has been sending me threatening letters.”
The sheriff looked around the field. “Your security guys here with you?”
“No one knew I was still in town. My tour bus went on without me and we’ve kept my location here under wraps.”
Bobby’s jaw was tight, as if he wanted to argue with the logic of that. Grant didn’t blame him. He’d been an idiot for not insisting Sophie have a security team on her at all times.
The public had discovered their location at the lake, so people had to know she was still in town instead of with her tour bus. It wouldn’t have taken much for someone to follow them back to the cabin, from there or any of the other times they’d visited in town.
“We’ve taken him into custody,” Bobby said. “We’ve got to bring him to the hospital before we can process him, but there will be a deputy with him at all times.”
Sophie glanced up at Grant and his world fell away at the love and fear in her eyes. Despite the millings of those around them, all he saw was his Sophie, the woman he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with years ago.
“I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you,” she whispered, sliding her arms around his shoulders.
“Ditto,” he said, kissing her on the nose.
Bobby cleared his throat, bursting the cocoon of isolation around them and bringing Grant’s awareness back to the present.
“Grant, the EMTs are ready to take you to the hospital to be stitched up. I’ll follow and get your statement there. We’ve gotten statements from everyone else.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.” Grant felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. No telling who was calling. News traveled fast in their small town. Bad news traveled even faster. He glanced down at the screen, surprised to see Jackie’s number. He swiped the screen. “Hey, Jackie.”
“Is my sister all right?” Her panicked voice echoed in his ear. “Is she all right, Grant?”
Grant’s gaze drifted down to Sophie. She still had a dried patch of blood on her cheek from where that fucker had sliced her with the knife, but other than that she seemed all right.
“She’s good,” he said. “Physically.”
“Where is she?” Jackie’s fear and worry were palpable.
“She’s right here. Hold on.”
“Grant,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For keeping her safe,” Jackie said, her voice filled with emotion. “I may not have liked you in the beginning but I knew you would always keep her safe.”
“Wow, was that a compliment?”
“Screw you, movie star. Put my sister on.”
Grant chuckled but stopped as the motion made the slice in his gut fire up again. “Here,” he said to Sophie. “It’s Jackie.”
“Hello?” she said, taking the phone and moving to her feet. “Yes, I know, I’m fine.”
Grant watched as she stepped away from the group, hating the fear that ate at him from having her out of his reach.
The EMTs tried to move him to a stretcher but he waved them away. “I can walk.” He raised up on his knees, trying to hide the wince.
Jake snorted.
Emmett rolled his eyes. “He’s not an Academy Award-winning actor for nothing.”
“Come on,” Aaron said, helping him to his feet. “We can follow behind.”
“See you, bro,” Emmett waved.
“Wait” Sophie called out. “I’m riding with him,” she said. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “And you are going in the ambulance. I don’t want any complaints.”
A slow smile spread across his face. It was nice to be cared for, by his wife, he thought. “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a salute.
She laughed and swatted his hand away as the EMTs loaded him into the van.
She settled in across from his stretcher, her eyes never leaving his.
Images of the divorce papers upstairs flashed through his mind. Like it or not, he could still lose her. The thought hurt more than the pain in his gut when he realized keeping Sophie was out of his control.
Sophie watched as Grant tried to wave off the EMTs, but the pair seemed intent on monitoring his condition the whole way to the hospital. The closest emergency room was twenty minutes away.
Luckily, Sophie had made it back from her conversation with Jackie just in time to ensure Grant went with the medical team. Her sister had gone from yelling at Sophie for not calling her immediately to crying because she thought it was her fault Sophie’s security hadn’t been on hand to stop the attacker.
Sophie and Grant had told Jackie to pull the security back from the cabin, thinking they didn’t need it given their remote location and the thought that no one knew she was still in town. As much as she’d tried to reassure her sister it wasn’t her fault, Jackie still felt responsible.
Jackie had also told Sophie a few things that had shocked the heck out of her. She and Grant had more to talk about than she realized. A lot more.
Grant held out his hand with a tentative smile.
She blinked back tears and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, smiling when he gave her a reassuring grip. Her own heart mimicked the action, squeezing tight in her chest. They had so much they needed to talk about. So much to make up for. So much they’d lost and missed out on, and might not ever be able to get back.
But she knew with all her heart she wanted to try. She wanted it more than anything she ever had.
“I’ll be fine, Soph.”
Her gaze ran over his body, studying every little detail. The technicians had hooked him up to monitors and inserted an IV line should he need any medication. Looking at him now it was hard to reassure herself he would be all right. “I know,” she whispered. It wasn’t the present that had her scared, it was the ‘What could have happened’ that had her stomach tied in knots.
“Hey,” he said, drawing her gaze to his beautiful face. “We’ll be okay.”
She nodded, hoping it was true.
“It doesn’t look too deep,” the technician said, uncovering the gauze covering his wound. “Probably just a few stitches and you’ll be good to go.”
