*

I called Walter on the way to the hospital, telling him to meet me. I didn’t go into detail, but I didn’t need to. He knew something was wrong when Liv didn’t make it home at her usual time.

Pacing back and forth in the lobby, rage pumps through my veins as I try to think about who could have done this. This obviously has to do with Jamal and the shooting, but why target Liv? Why not Walt? Unless this was their way at getting back at him, by hurting her.

Either way it will be their last fucking mistake.

My stomach twists into a tight knot when I see Walter rushing through the automatic door.

“Where is she?” he shouts, his voice filled with panic as his eyes shift everywhere until he sees me. “Where’s my granddaughter?”

I blow out a heavy breath and head toward him. “Walter, listen—”

He stops cold, his chest heaving as his eyes scan my body. “What the hell is all that?” He points at my chest. “Is that…her blood?”

I look down at my white undershirt to see it stained red.

Fuck.

“It’s hers, isn’t it?” he asks again, looking for confirmation.

“Walter, let’s take a seat.”

“I will not have a goddamn seat. I wanna see my Livy, and I want someone to tell me what the fuck happened to her, right now!” he bellows, his body quaking with anger.

Everyone swings their sympathetic eyes to us, three of the nurses crying. I stare back at him and search for the words to tell him. “Walt.” I start but trail off.

How the fuck do I tell him this?

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head in denial. “Please tell me they didn’t hurt her. Please tell me they didn’t hurt my baby, that this isn’t because of me.” His voice sounds as broken as he looks.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a weak attempt to ease his pain, but I know it doesn’t mean shit.

An intense fury flickers behind his eyes just before he loses all control. A loud roar rips from his throat as he charges past me, picking up a chair and throwing it against the wall. “Those fucking bastards! I’m gonna kill ’em.”

I slam into him and take him to the ground before he can tear the entire place apart. He struggles to get free. For an old man his strength takes me by surprise, but I quickly get the upper hand. “Listen to me!” I shout, pinning him down. “You need to hold it the fuck together for Liv’s sake. She needs you.”

He finally stills but his anger quickly turns to agony, and for the first time in my life I see a grown man break down. A tortured sob vibrating from his chest.

“Oh God, not my Livy. Not my sweet girl.”

My own throat burns like a motherfucker, but I grind my teeth and hold it together. “I swear, Walt, I’m going to find out who did this. I won’t fucking sleep until I do. Do you hear me?”

I mean every word I breathe.

They will fucking pay.

CHAPTER 8

Olivia

I stare out of my hospital room window, watching the sunset as the incessant beeping noise from the machines fill the silent room. It’s the first time I’ve been alone since waking up two days ago. Between Pap fussing over me every five seconds and Tania being a mother hen, I haven’t had much time to think about things—things I don’t remember.

I glance down at my hand, staring at my raw, battered wrist and swallow past the constant ache I’ve had in my throat since finding out what happened to me. I was beaten and violated, resulting in two broken ribs, a major concussion and a ruptured ovary that had to be removed, drastically lowering the chance for me to ever have children. The reality of it all is devastating and soul crushing.

And I don’t remember any of it but a few flashes of rough hands and a malicious voice that says words I will never forget.

This is for Jamal, bitch. Consider it justice served.

I close my eyes as the voice replays in my head. Other than that, I remember nothing. Everything else is blank. Something I’m mostly thankful for, other than the fact I don’t know who did this to me, so I can’t help the police find them.

A knock on the door pulls me from my depressing thoughts and opens a second later. I expect it to be Pap coming back with supper, so I’m surprised when I see Grayson walk in, holding a vase of lilies. My favorite flowers.

“Grayson,” I whisper, my shock evident. I haven’t seen him yet, and if I’m honest, I didn’t know if I would.

“Hey, Liv.” He greets me with his usual charming smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is it okay to come in?”

I hesitate for only a second, hating for him to see me like this, but I don’t want to be rude, and honestly, I could use the company while I wait for Pap. “Yes, of course.”

He walks in and sets the vase of flowers down beside my bed. “Walter told me they’re your favorite.”

I smile softly. “They are. Thank you.”

He nods then pulls the chair up next to my bed and sits down. My breath hitches when he takes my hand, holding it between his own. Bracing his elbows on his knees he brings it to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to my cold fingers. The kind and gentle gesture has warmth flowing inside of me, something I haven’t felt since I woke up.

“How are you doing?” he asks, his voice gruff. Before I can answer he shakes his head. “Never mind, that’s a stupid question.”

It’s obvious he’s nervous and doesn’t know what to say. He’s not the first person to feel that way when they see me. “I’m doing okay, mostly tired. The pain medication they have me on makes me sleep a lot.”

“That’s not a bad thing, the more you rest the faster you’ll heal.”

“You sound like Pap.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he says, amusement lacing his words, bringing a smile to touch my lips.

Silence settles over us as his gaze roams over my face. I don’t miss the tick of his jaw and the fury flashing in his eyes.

“It looks worse than it feels.” I lie, hating to see the same pain in his eyes that I’ve seen in everyone else’s.

He releases a heavy breath and drops his forehead on our clasped hands. I swallow thickly, trying to find words to make it better. Seeing everyone hurt so much for me is almost as painful as the wounds I bear.

“I’ve been told that you were the one who found me.”

His eyes snap to mine, and I draw in a sharp breath when I see them glassy with unshed tears. It causes my own to cloud over. “Yeah. I was just leaving work when we got the call.”

Ah, the famous mystery caller, the one that may have saved my life, along with Grayson of course.

Shame darkens my soul, knowing he saw me that way. I hate for anyone to have seen me like that, but especially him. Yet, I’m also incredibly thankful he found me. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears. “I know it must have been horrible to see me like that.”

“Jesus, Liv.” He breathes. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just sorry I didn’t make it sooner.” My eyes fall shut at the sound of his tortured voice, and I try my hardest to hold back the sob threatening to escape. Grayson stands and sits next to me on the bed. He frames my face gently between his large hands then presses a soft kiss on my forehead before bringing his mouth to my ear. “I swear, Liv, I’m going to find out who did this to you, and when I do they will fucking pay.”

I can hear it in his voice—the determination and conviction. I just hope the police find out who did this sooner rather than later, because the thought of those men still out there, possibly waiting to strike again, brings on a fear I don’t want to think about.

CHAPTER 9

Grayson

Exhaustion weighs heavily on me as I scrub a hand down my face, trying to clear my mind. I haven’t slept worth a shit, because every time I close my eyes all I see is Liv, tied to a tree, her body violated and broken. Guilt tightens my chest and mixes with rage every time the image surfaces. I try not to think about what would have happened if I had made it sooner, because I know it’s pointless. All I can do now is find the bastards who did this and deliver justice for her.