Hell Breaks Loose: A Devil's Rock Novel (20 page)

Grace woke to a dark shape standing over her, sunlight streaming around him. She held her hand over her eyes, wondering if
she had died. Was this it?

“Where am I?” She closed her eyes again and then reopened them. This time things were a little less hazy, the shape in front
of her outlined against a wash of whiteness.

She blinked a few more times, processing the blue suit. Her gaze drifted up to a familiar face. “Daddy?”

“Glad to see you’re with us again.”

“Where am I?” she repeated.

“In the hospital.”

She flattened her palms beside her on a bed and attempted to push herself up. She managed to eventually say, “What happened
to me?”

“Don’t strain yourself. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

She frowned and lifted fingers to her pounding head. “Was I hurt?”

“You’ve been through a great trauma,” he said, and she released a small snort. So like her father, the consummate politician,
never answering a direct question with anything truly enlightening or helpful.

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days. How do you feel?”

Two days
? She’d been unconscious that long? Her heart started racing. Ignoring his question, she demanded in a panicky voice, “What
happened to Reid? Is he okay?”

“If you’re referring to your abductor, then he’s back in prison where he belongs.”

“No!” She shook her head, ignoring the stabbing sensation in her temples. “You don’t understand. He didn’t kidnap me. Sullivan—”

“Sullivan has been arrested as well. We have several members of his crime network in custody. All have agreed to testify against
him for reduced sentences.”

“Oh.” She relaxed somewhat. At least they got that part of it right. She just needed to straighten everything else out about
Reid. She took a deep breath. “Reid Allister is innocent. Of all crimes. He was sent to prison in the first place for a crime
Sullivan—”

“Grace, you’re upsetting yourself. Lay back down. Your mother is at the hotel. I’ll call her. She’s anxious to see you. This
hasn’t been good for her nerves.”

“Damn it! For once listen to me!”

Her father’s expression cracked for the barest moment, the handsome facade showing his astonishment that she would talk to
him in such a way. “What’s gotten into you, Grace? Clearly you’re still suffering from shock. Let me ring the nurse to give
you another sedative.”

“
Another?
Is that what you’ve been doing? Drugging me? Is that why I’ve been in this bed for two days? Daddy, I’m twenty-six years
old. I know you’re the leader of the free world, but you don’t own me.” She let the irony of that statement hang there for
a moment. “I’m a person with rights, and I’m done living my life for you.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his blue eyes hardening. It was the type of stare that would normally have had her hastily
apologizing before. But this wasn’t
before
anymore. “Of course I don’t own you, Grace. I never thought I did.” He cleared his throat and looked to the door. “Dennis,
if you would leave us for a moment please.”

That’s when she noticed her father’s special agent in charge standing at attention a few feet away. Without a glance to her,
the former special ops soldier exited the room.

Her father didn’t waste time. Turning back to her, he said, “I understand you’ve been through an ordeal. Because of me. Because
of who I am.” He paused to take a breath and she blinked. This was the closest she had ever heard her father come to apologizing.
He sounded almost contrite. “I never imagined anything like this could . . .” His voice faded away.

“I don’t blame you, Daddy,” she said gently, and she meant it.

Her father was a lot of things, but it wasn’t his fault she’d been abducted. When evil men did evil things, it was no one’s
fault. Otis Sullivan was to blame. No one else.

He sighed and bowed his head. The sound was tired. He looked older standing there. “I’m glad to hear that, Grace.” He dragged
a chair up beside the bed and sank down in it. He patted her hand where it rested on the bed. “Truly relieved.”

“Dad,” she began after a moment. “I need to talk to you about Reid Allister.”

He made a sound of disgust. “The man is exactly where he deserves to be.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing to discuss on the matter of Reid Allister. You’ll only distress yourself further.”

She crossed her arms where she reclined in the bed. “He saved my life.”

Her father’s top lip curled faintly, as though he had just tasted something unpleasant. “And what else did he
do
to you?”

She sucked in a slow breath. He knew. Of course he knew. He must have had agents out to the cabin by now. She winced. They
would have relayed what they found there. Even if they hadn’t found a half-empty box of condoms, her father could probably
take one look at her and surmise the truth of it. But she loved Reid Allister and was
not
going to sit by idly and let him rot away in prison for the rest of his life.

“You can pardon him,” she said calmly, not so much as blinking under her father’s unflinching regard. “You have that power.”

“And why would I do that? So my only daughter can ruin her life and be with a degenerate?” He shook his head slowly. “Not
happening.”

She propped up on her elbows in the bed. “Even if he’s innocent?”

“Innocence is a relative thing.”

She shook her head. “If you care about me at all—”

“I do care about you. I know I never say it. Your mother and I haven’t been the most demonstrative with you over the years,
but we love you. Believe it or not, I’m looking out for you.”

“I know you think you are. But you’re controlling. I’m twenty-six and can lead my own life. Make my own choices.”

“And would one of those choices include being with Reid Allister?

She refrained from agreeing or disagreeing. “I’m done. I’m leaving DC. I won’t be your puppet anymore.”

His nostrils flared, the only indication that her declaration had affected him. “You’re right, you know. I do have the power
to pardon him.” Hope started a slow whisper through her heart. “How badly do you want him to have his freedom?”

“You know I do.”

“Enough to stay in DC?”

She sank back down on the bed as understanding began to penetrate. She gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

“Enough to marry Charles?” he pressed.

She jerked back into a sitting position, outraged and prepared to object, but the look in his eyes told her it was no use.

“You don’t dislike each other,” he reminded her sharply. “Charles was sick with worry while you were gone. He’s a good man.
You could be good together, Grace.”

This was what her father did. He was a master negotiator. And he never lost.

“You would manipulate me like this?” she accused softly.

“I’m doing what’s right for you.” His expression was earnest, and she knew he thought that was true.

She gave another nod, feeling like she was sinking, falling, as she settled back down on the bed again. Falling into a grave.
Her
grave.

“Enough to promise never to see Reid Allister again?” The words hit her, landing like dirt over her grave. That was the final
point to be negotiated. Maybe the most important one for her father.

She nodded once, hard. Thankfully, the boulder-sized lump in her throat blocked the sob that rose up in her chest.

“Say it, Grace. I’ll have your word. You will never attempt to see Reid Allister again.”

“You have my word,” she whispered. She would stay in DC under her father’s thumb. She would marry Charles.

Her sentence had just begun, but it didn’t matter because Reid would finally be free.

Reid was buzzed through a second set of doors. With his hands and ankles shackled, he walked with shuffling steps down the
halls, a corrections officer on each side of him.

They usually didn’t bother with the leg shackles, so he guessed they were taking him to meet with someone important. Probably
the district attorney to talk to him about his testimony against Sullivan.

He was glad for the meeting. Whatever the reason, it was a nice break from segregation, where they’d had him ever since his
return to Devil’s Rock. He passed through several more doors until he was in an area of the prison he’d never seen before.
Soon he was being led through a carpeted reception area, heading for the door marked as belonging to the warden.
Oh, shit.

His mind raced, wondering what this could be about. Maybe it was about the riot . . . or breaking out of prison . . . or how
much he’d embarrassed them by escaping, and they planned on keeping him in the hole for the rest of his life.

One of the bulls opened the door for him. Reid stepped inside. Immediately, he noticed two men in suits who were the size
of NFL linebackers. It was impossible not to notice them. They were even taller than him. They sucked up all the space in
the room.

“Have a seat,” a voice intoned.

He looked over to a small sitting area. The President of the United States sat on a couch, a cup of steaming coffee in his
head. His free hand motioned to the armchair across from him.

Reid moved slowly, as though expecting some kind of trap. Was this when one of those Secret Service agents forced him to his
knees and put a bullet in the back of his head for fooling around with the president’s daughter? For putting her life in danger?

Reid sank down into the chair, extending a small nod to the man who, in his opinion, had been a shitty father to Grace. He
wasn’t going to get a warm welcome from him. Reid didn’t give a damn who he was.

The president stared at him for a few moments. “I understand I’m to thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”

Reid merely stared. Reeves was going to have to say more than that to get him to talk. He would have to make it clear why
he was here.

Reeves continued, “Grace seems to think you deserve a pardon.”

Of course Grace would be trying to get him free. She was good like that. Sweet. She believed in things like justice. She believed
in him when no one else in the world did.

“What do you think my daughter deserves, Mr. Allister? Do you think she deserves you? Some lowlife degenerate who’ll never
amount to anything?” He waved an elegant hand in the air. “Who’ll always wear the stain of this place on him?”

Reid finally answered him. “No. She deserves better than me.”

President Reeves smiled then. It was fake and didn’t reach his eyes, and Reid bet he did it every day and people bought into
it. “Good then. I’m glad to see we’re in agreement. As long as you agree that my daughter deserves better than you and you
promise to stay far away from her, I’ll see to your pardon.”

Reid sat there for a moment, waiting for the rush of exultation to flow over him. Nothing. Without Grace, it didn’t even make
an impression.

“Mr. Allister.” Hard eyes fixed on him. “Do I have your promise? Your freedom and you forget all about my daughter.” His expression
turned faintly mocking. “I’m sure that won’t be that difficult for you to manage.”

Reid’s hands curled at his sides and it took everything in him not to lunge at the man. He didn’t think Grace was one to inspire
love and loyalty? Or maybe Reeves just thought he was incapable of feeling such dedication.

After a long moment, Reid nodded. Because Reeves was right. Grace deserved better than him. “Yes.”

“Then you have your pardon.”

A soft knock sounded at her hospital door. She ignored it, scraping the inside of her Jell-O cup with a spoon, hoping whoever
was there would just go away. Her mother, Holly, and Diana, her mother’s personal aide, had just left, and her head was throbbing.
She wasn’t in the mood for more visitors. Hopefully the person would just go away.

Her spoon continued scavenging for the last bit of Jell-O. She probably hadn’t had Jell-O since middle school. How had she
gone this long without it? Especially black cherry. She was going to have to start adding it to her grocery list.

A rerun of
The Big Bang Theory
played on the TV. She’d seen the episode before but it still succeeded in distracting her. She laughed at Sheldon and wondered
if Reid had ever seen the show before. Did they play it in prison? Did he have access to TV?

Hell.
So much for distracting her.

The door opened. “Grace? Hello?” Charles stuck his head inside the room.

“Hey, Charles.” She reached for the remote control, powering down the volume. He’d come by earlier with her mother, but she
hadn’t been alone with him since before . . .

Before everything.

Except now they were engaged.

“I brought you some breakfast tacos.” He held up a brown paper bag. “The nurses here raved about them.” He shrugged amiably.
“Figured you should always go with the recommendations of the locals.”

“Thanks, Charles.”

He pulled a chair up and drew the bed tray closer, setting the bag on it. “Unless you want more Jell-O cups.” He nodded at
the empty cups littering her tray.

“Thanks, but I’ll take the real food, please.”

“Your mother said they should release you tomorrow.”

Grace nodded, watching as he lifted a taco out of the bag and handed it to her. She opened the tinfoil and immediately the
delicious aroma of warm flour tortilla, scrambled egg, and bacon wafted to her nose. “This smells like heaven.” She moaned
at her first bite.

At the stretch of silence, her gaze drifted to Charles. He watched her with a rapt expression.

She held her fingers over her mouth. “What?” she asked around a mouthful of taco. “You’re not eating.”

Nodding, he looked down at the taco in his hand, hurriedly unwrapped it and took a bite. She watched him curiously. He looked
almost nervous, which he couldn’t be. Charles was confident and charismatic. Never nervous.

“Good,” he said approvingly, and took another bite. He glanced up at the TV, smiling. “This is a good one.”

They ate in silence for a few moments. Companionable silence. Like before. That much hadn’t changed.

“You seem . . . different,” he announced.

Her gaze swerved back to him at this. A nervous tremor ran through her.
How could he know?
“Different how?” she dared asking.

Did he look at her and know she’d fallen in love with one of her abductors? That she’d slept with someone else and there had
been sparks? Epic sparks. Once in a lifetime sparks. The kind she and Charles didn’t have and never would have.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Stronger maybe?”

She smiled at that, a little relieved.

She felt stronger. It was a new day and she was a new Grace Reeves. She was glad he sensed that. “Tell that to my mother.
She hasn’t stopped hovering.”

He smiled back. “She was worried. We all were.” He paused and looked down at his taco. “I was worried, Grace.”

“I know—” she started to say.

“No.” His voice sounded almost pained as he cut her off. “
I
was really worried.”

“Charles,” she said softly, unsure what to say.

“I mean it.” He lifted his gaze back up. “What we had was so comfortable. I realize that I took it for granted. I took you
for granted.”

She took another bite of her taco, chewing steadily so she wouldn’t have to say anything right then.

“I know I went about all of this wrong, Grace. I went about
us
wrong. Your father has been calling the shots from the beginning.”

“Well, that’s what he does.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have let him. Not in this. Maybe that’s why you and I never felt real.” Abruptly, he put down his taco
and stood up.

She watched him with wide eyes, her heart pounding like a jackhammer at her throat. He ran both hands through his well-groomed
hair, sending the chestnut locks into uncustomary disarray. “Your father said you agreed to marry me.”

Heat crept up her face. Did her father also explain that he had blackmailed her to get her agreement? For the first time,
she thought about Charles and how he would feel if he knew she had been coerced. He couldn’t like the idea. What man would?

Even knowing that, she didn’t care. She did it for Reid. For his freedom. She didn’t regret it. The choice was hers, and she
did feel good about that at least. It was her decision. She was calling the shots. The very thing she had vowed to do when
she returned to her family.

Charles cursed and looked away for a moment. She blinked. It wasn’t like him to use language. “Charles,” she started, pushing
herself up a little higher in the bed. “Look . . .”

Her voice faded as he got down on one knee. She peered over the side of the bed at him, her mouth sagging open at the sight
of him on bended knee. “I don’t need anyone to propose for me. Not even your father. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.
Grace Reeves, will you marry me?”

She stared, stunned.

He straightened and seized her hand. “I know this is probably not the most romantic gesture. And certainly not how any woman
imagines a proposal.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “Over tacos in a hospital bed leaves a lot to be desired. But it’s me
that’s asking this time, Grace. Not your father.”

She cleared her throat. “I appreciate that.”

“We can have something real, Grace. We can be good together. I believe it. Tell me you believe that, too.”

Her mind touched on Reid and then shied away. It hurt too much. “I don’t love you, Charles.” She had to be honest with him.
She couldn’t go into this with him thinking she felt more for him than she did. She wouldn’t do that to him no matter what
she promised her father. She’d marry him, but he would know the truth.

“Do you like me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Good, because I like you. I
more
than like you, and I think some day we could maybe even love each other. When I thought something might happen to you . . .
that you might die—” He stopped and gave his head a swift shake. As though it was too unthinkable to say out loud. He pinned
her with his gaze. “Say yes.”

He knew she didn’t love him. Despite his optimism, he knew she might never love him.

Reid’s face flashed across her mind and she shuddered. It was all the incentive necessary.

“Yes.”