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Authors: Kathi S. Barton

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Grace Anne (17 page)

BOOK: Grace Anne
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Before Thomas could open his mouth
his father stepped back to the bed. “Shut the fuck up before I let this man shoot
you.”

They all moved away from the bed. Thomas
glared, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. The nurse came in twice; once to
check on his IV, the next time to bring him a tray with clear liquids. Thomas
took one look at the broth and other things on the tray and shoved the entire
thing, including the half table, away. Anger practically boiled off him as he glared
at Michael. Joey thought, if given the chance, Thomas would kill Michael
without any qualms. But she was sure that, given Michael’s background, Thomas
would be dead before he got close enough.

~~~

Ginny locked the door behind her.
They’d had to move and move quickly. The fucking bitch Verrie had nearly gotten
them all caught. What the hell was she thinking bringing her “work,” as she
called it, to where they lived? And now, now they were back in Ohio.

The dive was just that, a dive.
The walls had water stains running down them that looked as if the bathtub
upstairs had overflowed and poured down the walls. That might have been
believable it this hadn’t been but a one-story complex and the only thing above
them was the open sky. The bathroom, not much bigger than a shoebox, had a
shower stall and a toilet. The sink was so close to the toilet that you could
literally reach all the way across it to the door knob. The floor was cracked
tile that was in an undetermined color and she was sure it hadn’t seen either
mop or cleaning agents since the place was built. But what the floor lacked in
color, the walls and the shower curtain certainly made up for.

The curtain was puce. A shade so
ugly that, if you were feeling any sort of upset stomach, would certainly make
you toss your belly. The sink was green, a lime green that made your eyes ache.
The tub and the toilet a muddy brown that was probably due more to the state of
its lack of cleanliness than a manufacturer’s idea of a color. Ginny only hoped
that if the need for a shower came up soon it would be dark out so that she
could do it without the light on.

The bedroom wasn’t much better in either
cleanness or color. The picture over the bed of a naked woman with a simple
apple over her pussy was the least offensive part of the room. The spread was
covered in bugs and she was hoping it was the pattern and not real ones. She
hadn’t looked under it, not even sure she wanted to see the sheets. The
pillows, if there were any, were the same thickness as the spread and probably
just as buggy. She sat in the bright orange chair and closed her eyes. What the
fuck was she doing here?

She wasn’t aware when they’d fled
New York. Thankfully someone, one of the others, had known where to find
everything they’d needed to get a plane ticket and get them to safety. Ginny
wasn’t even sure what had happened other than she had shot someone and that the
person had discovered her body. She didn’t know anything else. But what she did
know, or had guessed, was that the police thought someone else had done the
deeds and not her.

“They will find out it wasn’t him.
When they do, Grace is going to kill us.”

Ginny looked in the mirror at Guinnie.
She wasn’t strong enough to speak to her through a simple mind connection, so
Ginny spoke to her this way. “You’re just a kid; what the hell do you know
about it? And where have you been? Did one of the others hurt you?” Guinnie was
shaking her head before Ginny finished the question. “Why do you think Grace is
going to kill us? She only knows us as her mother.”

“No, she doesn’t. I told her about
us.”

Ginny’s eyes widened in the
reflection.

“She knows more than any of the
other children because I liked her most. Grace would talk to me when the others
walked away. She saw Verrie kill a man at her home.”

Ginny felt her heart pound. Grace
knew and, worse yet, she knew that Verrie had a bad habit. Trying to remain
calm so that she wouldn’t alert the others, she looked back at Guinnie when she
realized she was talking.

“You aren’t the host. You never
were. I know that Verrie told you that, but she lied. Verrie is the host.” The
sing-song voice was irritating. And Ginny knew that she knew it. “The others,
they think that they are the host as well. She tells them all.”

Ginny rubbed her forehead. “Why?
What possible reason could she have for lying to us all? And why would she want
us to think we were the ones in charge? Don’t you think it would benefit her
best if she was the one…”

“Yes, that’s it. Or so I’ve heard.
She wants you all to fight about yourselves. If you fight, she can control us. I
want this to end. I’m…I’m still a little girl because I can’t grow and she will
not let me.”

Ginny heard the anger in her voice,
but was too busy trying to figure out Verrie’s angle. She got up to pace. She could
still see Guinnie, but only in small glimpses that showed a small child of
about ten or so. Ginny knew that she’d been there all along. She’d only come
out when the children, Guinevere’s kids, needed her. And now. She started to
ask her why she was here now when something else occurred to her.

“Will Grace tell them what she
knows? Will she, you think, tell her family about us?”

Guinnie nodded.

“This isn’t good. This will get us
put away and I don’t want that to happen. No way are they going to lock my
happy ass up.”

“Or they will kill us.” She
sounded so wishful that Ginny stopped to stare. “You have to admit that we are
not doing so great. If we continue to fight, then we will destroy each other
anyway.”

Ginny had been thinking the same
thing, but it didn’t set well with her to have it pointed out to her by a
child. She glared at Guinnie and decided that she’d had enough of Miss Doom and
Gloom. She turned her back on her and tried to bring Guinevere to her. The
laughter behind her made her think of nails on a chalk board and metal against
her fillings. She turned slowly.

“I’m neither as weak as you think,
nor am I as easily dismissed. I may look like a child to you, but I’ve been
around as long as you. I listen and pay attention.” Pain seared though Ginny’s
head as Guinnie continued. “You’d do well to remember that without me, you
would be nothing.”

Ginny felt dizziness swamp her and
she felt the floor come up to grab her. Her last thought was that she hoped the
floor was cleaner than it smelled before she heard the other two, Guinevere and
Verrie, scream.

Chapter 17

 

Thomas looked around the room
again. He was waiting for his chance, and the man who’d taken his blood
pressure an hour ago said when it came, he had to be ready. The gun lying
beside him made him feel that he’d be able to do just about anything. And the
fact that the man had opened each of the cuffs before he’d left was amazing to
Thomas. The fire alarm nearly startled him into a stupor. He pulled his hand
free as soon as the cop stepped out of the room.

Thomas hid behind the door and
waited. His arm was throbbing, but he was about to be set free so, he thought,
as soon as he could he’d get himself something to take care of it and to help
him deal with the stress of this shit. As soon as the door started to open
Thomas tensed, ready to take out who ever came in. He was thrilled when he saw
it was Michael.

He hit him three times with the
gun, twice in the head. Michael was down after the second time, but he hit him
again for good measure. The blood that was spilling from his stepbrother’s head
made him giddy with power, so Thomas kicked him twice in the ribs because he
could. Stepping over his body, Thomas moved to the slightly opened door to see
the cop coming toward him. Instead of bolting like he wanted to do he pulled
back into the room and waited.

As soon as the prick walked through
the door Thomas hit him too. He didn’t want to waste any more time so he took the
cop’s gun, phone, and radio and left the room. He was nearly to the elevator
when he realized he should have put on something more than the stupid gown he
had on. Thomas slipped into the first room he came to and was glad it appeared
to be a man’s room. After going through the suitcase he’d found still laying on
the bed, he went into the bathroom and changed.

The clothes were cheap and ill-fitting
but so much better than the gown he’d had on. He tried to adjust them to fit
him better, but he couldn’t seem to get it right. He was going to leave the
name of his tailor, but decided that he’d better get moving. The shoes fit, but
again were cheap and well-worn.

He was about to leave when he
noticed that a purse was lying there alongside of a wallet and keys. Knowing
that he had to get away before he was noticed, he grabbed up the wallet and the
keys. While he was stuffing the wallet away he rummaged through the purse until
he found cash. Seventy bucks was all he could find, but it was better than
nothing. Going out the door, he was out of the building when he heard the alarms
sound. Christ, he was finally free.

The car was just where the man
said it was, but Thomas walked by it. He was actually a little nervous about
accepting help from someone he didn’t know. Not to mention, every time he’d
asked him why, the “nurse” would change the subject. He used the automatic
unlock on the keys he’d stolen to find the other car. He heard the beep just as
he saw the man who’d helped him.

Nurse was standing next to a lamp
post with three other men. Thomas was beginning to think he’d been set up. Opening
the gun for the first time, he found it was empty and that the clip in the boot
of it held nothing more than air. Thomas leaned heavily against his new ride
and thought of the implications of what had just happened.

Whoever “helped” him wanted him to
get into some sort of shootout with the cops. And with the gun he’d been given
they fully expected him to die. Taking out the cop’s gun, he checked it. Loaded
and one in the barrel. Walking toward the car that had been provided for him to
get away with, Thomas smiled at the men. By the time he was ten feet away he
lifted his gun and shot all four of them with the cop’s gun. Hurrying over to
them before anyone noticed the blood or called the real cops because of the
noise he took each of their weapons and wallets.

Sitting in the stolen car he took
all the cash he’d stolen and put it on the seat beside him. He now had just
over nine hundred dollars in cash, three Glocks, and two revolvers. He pulled
out of the lot, trying to think where to go. He decided that it was time to pay
the bitch who he felt had started this all with a little visit. By the time he
got to the Washington building he had a plan and he was a happy man.

But pulling up in front of the
building made him pissed all over again. Cunningham Construction was moving
shit out. He wasn’t sure what had happened. He had only just found out the
Washington building belonged to Grace a couple of days before. The fact that
Grace owned it didn’t really surprise him; it was the fact that no one had
bothered to tell him that she did. He felt, as a Cunningham too, he should be
privy to the entire goings on of the company. He frowned when he realized why
he might not have been told, but someone might have said something.

Thomas thought about going over
and seeing if he could find out where she was. On the off chance that one of
the peons might have a clue, he nearly had the door opened when he saw one of
the guys from the office he sort of knew. Thomas thought maybe he was some mail
clerk, but didn’t really care enough to waste much time on trying to figure it
out. He slipped up beside him when he wasn’t paying attention. The man jumped
when he noticed Thomas.

“Where are we taking all this
stuff? I thought I was supposed to be here now, but I guess someone had the
times wrong about when we were supposed to show up.” Thomas leaned against the
car and smiled. “I’ve been working on some other project and forgot I was
supposed to be here for my brother.” He hated referring to Michael as anything
but his stepbrother. He loathed the man and everything he stood for. He told
himself all the time that had he been the son of the new squeeze, he would have
gotten all his father’s attention too. Thomas resented anything that came from
Michael and hated that he called himself Cunningham.

“Supposed to be taking this to the
main offices. Mr. Cunningham said we were to unpack it just like we packed it
up. Even had us taking pictures of her stuff so we could set it up just the
same. I guess she’s some sort of dressmaker.” The man said it like he was
impressed.

“That’s right. I forgot.” Thomas
snapped his fingers like he’d just remembered. “I’m having a brain fart of a
day. Grace wanted me to call her when things were starting to get set up. I can’t
seem to find the number she gave me. I don’t suppose you know where she might
be, do you?”

“Yeah, she’s in Ohio with her
family. Heard tell that they went there for a visit or something. Might be
popping the question any day now is what I heard.”

Thomas shuddered to think about a
dressmaker being in his family as the man continued.

“If you wanna be the one to call
her, you’ll have to find the number from Mason. He’s over there near the truck.”

Thomas nodded and stood up. “Thanks.
I’ll just go and see him now. Might get me in better with my brother if I call
her and tell her that things are moving the way Michael said. She is a might
bitchy when things don’t go her way.” Thomas laughed and walked toward Mason. He
kept to the side of the truck as Mason directed things being loaded in the
moving van. Thomas needed him to be alone and, the sooner he could get him
there, the better. But luck was on his side. Mason was called away and, when he
put his clipboard down on one of the chairs and walked away, Thomas walked up
and took it off the seat.

BOOK: Grace Anne
10.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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