Give Me Grace(158)

Kelly took the phone back and cocked his head. “You know that guy?”

I wanted to rip the smirk from his lips. Instead, I shrugged, the movement more feeble than I would have liked thanks to my forearms being attached to the chair. “Never seen him before in my life,” I said breezily.

Kelly tapped at his phone and held it up again. It was a photo of Henry and me together at the awards ceremony the very day of my arrival. It was after our performance and celebratory champagne so we were hugging each other close and smiling wide for the camera, busy riding the high. It seemed an entire lifetime ago now. Taking the phone back, Kelly read the beginning of the attached article out loud. “Henry Paterson, lead guitarist of Jamieson and brother of leading international model Grace Paterson, talks to us about rising fame, fortune, and his illustrious sister.”

I lifted my chin. “That’s not me.”

Kelly looked up from the phone. “Of course it’s you, Grace.” He set the phone down on the dining table to his right and then leaned back in his chair, staring me down. “Your brother’s got skills on the guitar. Be a shame to send someone over to break all his fingers, don’t you think?”

All the fight went out of me like a deflated balloon. If I wasn’t strapped to the chair, I would’ve sagged from the easy defeat.

“Okay,” I said. “You’ve made your point. You can make me answer any question you want without untying me. Does that make you happy?”

Kelly grinned. “Yep … So …” He folded his arms and sat back in the chair. “Why were you and Casey arguing?”

“Why do you even want to know?”

“Humour me.”

I sighed, the sound heavy to my own ears. “Because he found out something I was keeping from him.” To deflect any further questioning, I asked, “Why did you disappear?”

Kelly stared at me for a moment. “I didn’t disappear.”

“Casey thought you were dead.”

He shrugged, the casual motion making my words appear unimportant. “He thought you were dead,” I bit out, repeating myself so he understood the magnitude of those five words.

Kelly’s eyes narrowed, flashing anger. “Heard you the first time, Grace.”

“Don’t you care?” I burst out.

His gazed dropped to his hands, shielding his face from my eyes. “It was better that he did.”

My heart dropped to my toes. “Better that he thought you were dead?”

He looked up from his hands. “Better that than knowing how much I hate him.”

“Why do you hate him?”

Kelly stood abruptly. “I’m the one asking the questions here.” Snatching the knife, he came at me. I shrank back. He took hold of my hand and with a quick flick of his wrist, sliced through the bindings on my left arm. I looked up at him, surprised. “You’re letting me go?”

He shook his head, indicating that was a no. “You’ve been squirming in your seat for five minutes. Lettin’ you use the bathroom.”

I watched him slice through the tape on my right hand. Then he crouched down and cut through the ones around my legs. A joyful moan slipped out at being able to move. Kelly grinned and gave my ankles a quick massage. “Feel good, babe?”

I jerked from his grip and hissed, “Don’t touch me.”

Kelly stood from his crouch, crowding over me with his bulk. “I bet I could make you feel even better.”

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” I stood up. “Newsflash, pal. You might think you’re all that, but you’re not.”

“You don’t think I’m all that?” He gave me a look of mock sadness. “That hurts.”

“Arrghhh!” The man was a frustrating brute. Now that I was out of my chair, I was ready to run. I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. I shoved harder and he snatched my wrists.

“You done?”

My jaw locked from the effort of containing my rage. It was obvious I wasn’t getting through. Yelling at him wouldn’t help my situation. I would scope out the bathroom, I decided. I was probably slim enough to make a daring window escape. If not, I could just search for a weapon. Hell, I could just undo the shower tap and use it to bean him in the head. “Yes,” I replied through gritted teeth. “I’m done. I’d like to use the bathroom, please.”

Kelly brushed a thumb across my cheek. “Pretty manners, babe. I bet a man could take you anywhere and be proud to have you on his arm.”

I paused. Casey’s brother had a soft side. It kept slipping through, surprising me. “Why are you doing this?”