Page 79 of His Saving Grace

Chapter 19

Masonpulledona dry t-shirt and then grabbed the towel he’d snagged from the bathroom and rubbed it against his hair. He glanced out the window again. The lights were still on in the guest house. That was good.

Tank, who was stretched out on the throw rug next to the bed, shook her head, making her collar jingle, and then leaped to her feet. She’d been in the house when he got back tonight, which had freaked him out, because she’d spent the last few weeks stuck to Grace. But the living room light had been on in the guest house, so he’d forced himself to calm down.

The dog let out an uncharacteristic growl.

Mason frowned. “What’s the matter, girl?”

She paced back and forth, from the bed to the window and back, clearly agitated. She stopped, stared at the window, and barked.

Mason glanced out the window, and then did a double-take. “What the hell?”

Grace was on the porch of the guesthouse with a man. He was carrying a bag in one hand, his other hand on the back of her neck. The guy propelled her forward, and they made their way down the steps and into the rain.

Mason dropped the towel and spun, sprinting for the door. He slammed it closed, keeping the dog locked inside, and tore down the stairs, clearing them a couple at a time. Tank whined and then let out a couple of barks, but he ignored her. Halfway down, he grabbed the banister and leaped over like a pole vaulter, his bare feet hitting the floor with a smack that sent tingles up his calves. His thigh screamed in protest at the impact, threatening to buckle, but he pushed through, racing through the kitchen door.

Jake and Simon, who were sitting at the kitchen table, looked up, but he was too focused on Grace to stop. He didn’t bother with a coat or even shoes. He barreled out the door and onto the back porch.

The rain still pounded, but he could see Grace and the guy making their way across the yard in the gloom. They’d skirted around the far end of the pool and the guy seemed to be directing her into the shadows, trying to keep them out of sight. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

He launched his body over the porch railing and back out into the rain. Almost instantly, he was soaked again, but he didn’t care. He needed to make sure Grace was safe. He strode across the lawn. The guy spotted him about twenty yards out and stopped, dropping the bag and clamping his arm around Grace’s waist.

Mason sped up, his long legs eating up the space, until he was almost jogging. He slid to a stop a handful of feet away from them.

“Grace?” Mason tried to keep his voice level, calm, even though his heart was trying to smash a hole through his ribs. “Why don’t you come here?” He lifted his hand to her.

She shook her head, strain etched in the lines of her too pale face. Mason was going to kill whoever this guy was for scaring her like this. And was that blood on her lip? Rage rolled through him. What the fuck was going on?

“Go back inside, Mason. Where it’s safe.” Her voice wavered. “David and I are leaving.”

The words sent a sharp ache through his heart, like a dagger slicing deep and clean through the muscle. She was leaving. She was leaving, and he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her… anything.

His mind reeled, searching for the right words, anything to get her to change her mind. And then the rest of what she said sank in.

She said David. As in ex-fiancé, David. The prick who’d terrorized her for most of her adult life. The one who’d berated her. Assaulted her.

The urge to make him suffer, to make him bleed, to make him pay for what he’d done, filled Mason, pushing out the sadness and the confusion and the hurt. Leaving behind only anger. Anger and determination. “Grace,” he said between clenched teeth. “Come here. Now.”

The dickhead must have tightened his grip because she flinched. The asshole was just racking up reasons for a beating.

Grace shook her head again, a frantic edge to the movement now. She blinked rapidly against the rain, but he could still see the fear and desperation in her gaze. “Please, Mason, do as I ask. Go back inside, where it’s safe, and let us go.”

He wanted to argue, tell her he wasn’t leaving her, when understanding slammed into him. She didn’t want to leave. She was doing it because she thought it would keep him safe, get him away from her psycho ex-fiancé.

The screen door slammed shut behind him, but he refused to be distracted. David’s gaze flicked over Mason’s shoulder, and his eyes widened. Mason would bet just about anything that Simon and Jake were watching from the porch. And that David was now questioning his ability to get out of this, considering he now had to take on three of the Callahans. Good, he should be pissing his pants.

There was a squelching thud, meaning one of the boys had vaulted over the porch railing and onto the grass. He’d put money on it being Jake. Simon was more reserved, not quite as impulsive. Methodical and patient, he’d be looking for the best moment to act, searching for the right angle, considering every possibility.

At least, that’s how he’d done things when they were kids.

Mason didn’t really know him anymore. Because he was an ass, he’d let his stupid pride dictate his relationships. He needed to change that, just as soon as he got this stuff with Grace figured out.

Focus, you idiot. Right, one crisis of conscience at a time.

He took a step forward and David shoved his hand into Grace’s side. She flinched again and Mason tensed, getting ready to launch himself across the distance. The glint of metal near David’s hand stopped him. He squinted, his focus laser-sharp. No wonder Grace was so eager to leave with the prick. The fucker had a gun. A gun he was pressing into Grace’s side.

“Let her go.” Mason kept his voice low, but made sure his tone relayed his deadly intent.