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“That’s hard to believe,” Grimm said.
“I met him online. He told me his family owned a logistics company.” That wasn’t technically a lie.
“What happened to him at the party?” Grimm asked.
“He left me alone. After I found the body, I went looking for Travis, but I heard men saying they needed to find the woman in the red dress.” Her voice cracked, but she quickly controlled it. “I climbed out a bathroom window and ran.”
“How did you know where to find us?” Grimm asked.
“One of the women at the party mentioned the Devil’s Run. I could hear the motorcycles once I reached the highway,” she said. That was convenient—too convenient. Grimm closed his fist around the drive. A stranger connected to the Vale family had arrived on the same night someone disabled his security feed and tampered with his safe. It felt like a trap because it probably was one.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
Her gaze returned to his. “Grace.” The answer hit him harder than it should have. Coal slowly turned his head, but Grimm ignored him.
“Grimm and Grace,” Coal murmured. “That’s fucking cute.”
“Shut up,” Grimm warned. For the first time since entering the room, the woman’s fear loosened enough for confusion to take its place.
“Your name is Grimm?” she asked.
“It’s what people call me.” A small sound came from the hallway. It wasn’t a knock, but a gunshot. Grimm was on his feet before the second shot cracked through the clubhouse. Music stopped, and screams replaced it. Coal drew his weapon and moved to the side of the door. Grimm caught Grace by the arm and pulled her behind him.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Your trouble found you,” he said. The overhead lights flickered twice, and then the entire clubhouse went dark. Emergency lights flashed on, bathing the church room in a low red glow. Grace gripped the back of Grimm’s cut. He felt her trembling against him.
His phone vibrated, and a message from Graves appeared on the screen.
THREE BLACK SUVS AT THE GATE. HEAVILY ARMED. THEY WANT THE WOMAN.
Another message followed.
THEY SAY SHE BELONGS TO VALE.
Grimm read it twice before looking over his shoulder.
Grace’s mask had slipped, revealing more of her face. A thin streak of blood crossed one cheek. She was frightened and exhausted, but she hadn’t fallen apart—not yet. “Are you going to give me to them?” she whispered. It would have been the easiest solution—just hand her over, and start the race to protect his club from a war that had nothing to do with them. But someone had threatened the Devil’s Run. Someone had interfered with his security and entered Rage Runners territory, believing they could make demands. Grimm didn’t respond well to threats.
He reached up and pulled the glittering mask from Grace’s face. She sucked in a breath but didn’t look away. “From now on, you don’t hide anything from me,” he said. “Not your face. Not your past. Not one goddamn secret. Understand?”
Her fingers tightened in his kutte. “Does that mean you’ll help me?” she asked.
“No, Grace.” Grimm chambered a round and turned toward the door. “It means I’m keeping you.”
GRACE
I’m keeping you. The words shouldn’t have made Grace feel safer. They should have terrified her. Maybe they would have if anyone other than Grimm had spoken them. But as he stood between her and the gunfire, his broad body shielding hers while the red emergency lights flashed around them, Grace believed him. He wasn’t going to hand her over, but that didn’t mean she was safe. It only meant the most dangerous man in the room had decided she belonged on his side of the locked door, for now.
Grimm pulled away from her and reached for the handle, and Coal caught his arm. “We don’t know how many got through the gate.”
“Then we find out,” Grimm growled.
“We should take her downstairs.” Grimm glanced back at Grace. She saw the decision in his dark eyes and immediately shook her head.
“I’m not going into a basement,” she insisted.
His expression remained unreadable. “It wasn’t a request.”
