Give Me Grace(154)

“Casey?” Tim called out when we reached the bank of elevators. “Where you are going?”

Half turning as I jabbed the down button, I replied with a calm that belied the turmoil inside me, “To get Grace.”





“Give me the keys,” I ordered Travis when we hit the car park.

“No,” he replied, beeping the locks of his mean looking Subaru. It was gleaming black with barely legal tinted windows and a modified turbo, making it one of the quickest cars I’d ever handled. After having rendered control to Mitch and Gabriella these past few hours, I needed to take it back, and that started now, with driving Travis’s car.

“Give me the motherfucking keys,” I growled.

With what sounded like a deep sigh of regret, he tossed them my way. I caught them easily and we both slid in the car at the same time. I turned the key and the car rumbled to life.

Travis was still shutting the passenger door when I hit the gas hard. I tore out of the police carpark, passing uniformed officers and ignoring their glares. Barely pausing to check if the road was clear, I fishtailed onto the street, heading straight for Morgan’s house.

“How did it go with Henry?” Travis asked.

I gunned the engine, shooting through an orange light. “He punched it out of his system,” I replied, running a tongue over the split in my lip. It was a throbbing reminder of Henry’s aggression.

“And the test for the roofies?”

“Positive.”

“Bitch,” Travis snarled.

The tyres spun when I took a hard left. “I backed Morgan into a corner but I never expected her to retaliate with something like this.”

“Finding out about your parents and what happened with Kelly has been a long time coming,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Being so close and getting nothing? What choice did you have?”

“Getting nothing is better than losing Grace over this,” I replied, for the first time realising just how much falling in love had changed my priorities. It wasn’t until the idea of being with Grace and building a future together was snatched away that I realised how desperately I wanted it to happen.

“You’re not losing Grace over this,” Travis vowed. “We’ll find her.”

“It’s not just about finding her,” I said, glancing across at my friend. “Grace has cancer.”

Travis muttered a quiet, “Fuck,” before tipping his head back against the seat. “How bad is it?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut, bracing for my response.

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling my control start to slip just thinking about it. “I found out last night and fucking lost it. You saw me. What would you do if you found out Quinn had cancer?”

His eyes opened and he paled, looking like the idea made him want to puke. “I’d lose it.”

“Exactly,” I replied as I spun the wheel, careening into the street that would lead us to Morgan’s house. “So I can’t talk about it right now. I can’t even think about it. I need to focus on the now and getting Grace.”

I slowed down, taking in the surroundings as we passed by her house. It would be dusk soon, yet the interior was dark, not lit up like the neighbouring houses. She could’ve been lying low, but I didn’t believe it. The house was empty. An unmarked police car sat further down, keeping watch for her return.

“Call Seth. Get him to put Beck out here on surveillance again,” I told Travis. “He’ll do a better job than these clowns,” I added when we drove by the unmarked car.

Travis began dialling and I hit the gas, roaring away from Morgan’s house with satisfying speed. Travis glanced behind us before turning his gaze to me. “Where are we going? We could at least search her house and see if we find anything.”

“Gabriella’s arranging a search warrant. I don’t want to compromise any evidence they might find. Besides,” I told him as I planted my foot, barely scraping through another orange light as we left her house behind. “I’ve got another idea.”





Sunday afternoon traffic was full of nine to fivers—all returning home at the same time from their weekend escapes. Dusk had truly arrived by the time we hit our destination. Parking the car a street away, we walked along the back of the reserve until we reached the yard of Graham Bennett’s house. Unlike Morgan’s, the back half of his house was lit up, highlighting the kitchen and dining area clearly to the backyard.

Travis handed me another Glock. I checked the sight and safety before taking another peek at the house through the car-wide gap in the fence.

“What do you see?” he asked from behind me.