Most Eligible Baby Daddy(34)

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He looked at the words. He didn't pick up the journal because he assumed  it was private, but he read the words on the open page over and over to  himself.                       
       
           



       

That's her, he thought. That's who she is. That one sentence.

He understood the words perfectly, and he knew that Elle did too. They  were both cut from the same cloth. More than anything in the world, they  each wanted to be loved. But only on their own terms. The only love  that had any value, was the true love of someone who knew who they  really were. Neither of them wanted to have to hide their past. Neither  of them wanted to have to apologize for what they'd been through in  their childhoods. They wanted to be loved, really and truly loved, for  everything they were. No more and no less.

He brought his fist down on the table.

The sound shocked him.

Gris had her.

He knew it. Gris had taken her back. He wanted to put her back in her  box. And Forrester wasn't going to allow it. Elle had the right to chose  her own life. She had the right to be the person she wanted to be. She  had a right to be loved for who she was.





Chapter 40

Forrester

FORRESTER WENT TO HIS TRUCK before leaving town. All his belongings had  been thrown hastily onto the passenger seat by the hotel staff, on the  sheriff's orders. He put on a warm leather jacket, some leather gloves  and his sunglasses. It wasn't much to protect himself from the mountain  cold but it would have to do.

He got back on the bike and rode out of town without looking back. Elle  was out there, somewhere, and he had to find her. He didn't know much  but he wouldn't allow himself to fail. He'd seen Gris's vehicle when it  had rammed him from behind. It was a black Camaro. He sped down out of  the mountains on the only road leading out of town, rounding the sharp  corners much faster than was safe. All he could think about was reaching  Gris before he got on the Interstate. If they reached the Interstate,  he'd have to call Grant, Jackson and Grady. They had access to all sorts  of data. He could give them Elle's name, and Gris's, and they'd pull up  an address for him. He'd do that if it was necessary, but for now, all  he could do was keep riding. With every passing second, he grew more and  more afraid that he'd lose Elle. Every moment that she was away from  him, that she was with Gris, was agony.

He had to get her back. He had to make her safe.

After all, he'd told her she was going to have his baby.

About forty miles down the mountain road there was a gas station and he  pulled into it. He needed to fill up. He also needed to warm up.

An attendant came out and asked him what he needed.

"Fill her up," Forrester said.

"Ain't it a little cold to be riding a bike?"

"It is," Forrester said, rubbing his hands together. "You got coffee in the store?"

"Sure do," the attendant said. "You go on in and pour yourself a cup. I'll be right behind you."

Forrester didn't need to be told twice. He went into the store and found  the coffee pot and poured himself a big cup. Then he sat at the counter  and grabbed a pack of jerky and started eating it.

The attendant came back and rang up the gas.

"You rode all the way down from Stone Peak?" he said.

"Yes, sir," Forrester said.

"How was the weather up there?"

"Probably a little colder than down here."

The attendant nodded, rang up the coffee and jerky, and gave Forrester  the bill. Forrester paid and continued sipping his coffee.

"How far to the interstate?" he said.

"Just another thirty miles or so," the attendant said.

"You got a phone?"

"Sure, there's a payphone over there in the corner."

Forrester checked his pocket for change and asked the attendant to break  a five dollar bill. Then he went to the phone and dialed the number for  home.

Lacey picked up.

"Forrester, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to contact you."

"I just got into something, Lacey."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm always all right," he said, and he rubbed a hand over the bandaged ribs. They hurt like hell.

"Well, I'm glad to hear from you. Jackson and Grant were going to come out there tomorrow if we didn't hear from you."

"No need, Lacey. I'm fine."                       
       
           



       

"You've met a girl, haven't you?"

"I may have. I just need to find her."

"What do you mean?"

"Her ex forced her to go with him."

"Her ex? You mean she didn't want to go with him?"

"Yeah, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, apparently."

"Are you sure this girl didn't choose to go with him?"

Forrester smiled. "I'm sure," he said. "This is the real deal, Lacey. This girl belongs with me."

"So how are you going to find her?"

"You got a pen?"

"Sure."

"Take this down. Elle Barclay, twenty-three years old. And Gris something. I don't know his second name. He's about thirty."

"I've got it."

"Get Grant to run that through the system. I'll call back in a couple of hours and he can give me the address."

"Be careful, Forrester."

"I will, Lacey."

"We all love you, you know."

Forrester held the receiver to his face for a moment, pressing it against his cheek. "I know, Lacey."

He hung up and went back to the attendant. "You didn't happen to see a black Camaro come through here, by any chance, did you?"

The attendant looked up at him. "As a matter of fact I did. They parked  outside for the night. I saw them there when I closed up for the night,  and I saw them there this morning too."

"They slept in the car?"

"Far as I could tell."

"Did you talk to them?"

"Nope. I don't mind people parking for the night. If you're tired you've  got to get off the road. And they didn't come in for gas. They pulled  off a little while ago."

"Heading toward the Interstate?"

"Yes, sir," the attendant said.

Forrester put another ten dollars on the counter as a thank you for the information, and left.





Chapter 41

Elle

ELLE WASN'T SURE WHY SHE kept looking in the rearview mirror. Was she  hoping Forrester would come? It was impossible. He'd been locked up when  they'd left last night. He was probably still locked up now.

But when she saw a motorcycle approaching from behind, she held her  breath. She knew it was foolish. There was no way it was Forrester. But  she watched it like a hawk as it inched closer and closer in the mirror.

"Where's this guy going?" Gris said, when he saw the rider coming up behind them.

"He's in a hurry," Elle said, trying not to show her emotions.

Then, when the bike came up alongside them, she knew she'd been right.  It was Forrester. He waved his arm, indicating for Gris to pull over.

"What the fuck?" Gris said.

"Gris, pull over. It's for me."

"The fuck I will."

"It's Forrester, Gris," Elle said, the happiness in her voice so obvious  she couldn't hide it. "He came for me. He actually came for me."

"He didn't get you back yet."

Elle was stunned. Forrester had actually come for her. She peered out  through the front windshield. Forrester was in front of them now, and  was slowing down, forcing Gris to come to a stop. Gris tried to go  around but Forrester blocked him. Gris revved the engine but stopped  short of ramming the bike.

"Gris, you know you have to let me go, right?"

Gris shook his head. "I can't, Elle. I can't live without you."

"Yes you can, Gris."

Gris brought the car to a stop and then reached into the glove box in  front of Elle's legs. He pulled out a black handgun. Elle gasped. She  tried to stop him but he put his hand on her throat and began to  squeeze.

Elle couldn't breath. Her eyes filled with tears. She was being choked  so hard that she could feel her throat collapse under the pressure of  Gris's grip. She tried to speak, to beg him to stop, but she couldn't  make a sound.

"If I can't have you, no one can have you," Gris said, and there was an anger in his eyes she'd never seen before.

And then there was a smashing sound. The entire windshield fell in on  them in a million pieces. Gris released his grip of her neck and she  gasped for air. Then she saw what had happened. Forrester had picked up  the motorcycle, which must have weighed hundreds of pounds, and flung it  through the windshield. Through the smashed glass she could see him  standing there on the side of the road, holding himself up against the  guardrail.