Keith was pacing in her room when they got back. “Where was she?”

“She was looking for a ride home,” said Isabelle.

Keith had the good sense to blush at his faux pas of talking about her like she wasn’t there. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Grant laid her on the bed, and she could see the way his jaw was bunching with frustration. “Get a nurse, Keith. Isabelle wants to go home.”

“That’s ridiculous. You nearly died today. You can’t leave. She needs to have that IV put back in.”

“Get a nurse,” repeated Grant, more firmly this time. “I’m not chasing her around the hospital again. If she wants to go home, I’m going to be the one to take her.”

Keith shook his head and muttered something rude as he left the room.

Keith wanted to slam Grant’s head into a wall. How could he support Isabelle going home? She needed to be here in the hospital, where he could finish the job she’d botched.

Poor thing. She’d suffered so much because he hadn’t planned carefully enough. He’d never meant to hurt her. She didn’t deserve any more pain in her life than she already had.

He wanted to take care of her. She was more important to him than the others. He loved her, and he couldn’t mess this up again, which was why he’d planned everything so that he could finish freeing her tonight.

But that wasn’t going to happen now. Isabelle was going home, thanks to Grant.

The arrogant prick.

Grant was a man who didn’t deserve a painless death. Keith wasn’t so cruel that he’d let him continue to suffer the nightmares and constant, grinding shame. He wouldn’t make Grant live the bleak isolation of being alone in his suffering, day after day. Keith would still help him. But maybe he wouldn’t worry so much about it being easy on Grant.

A quick survey of his knowledge of poisons told him just the one to use. It was tasteless, odorless, and completely lethal, even in small, bite-sized doses.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Grant watched Dale sleep for the better part of an hour, then went to do the same with Isabelle.

Mathews was right. It helped knowing they were safe. Maybe in a few days, after they found Wyatt and put him behind bars, he’d start to believe it.

The police were scouring Rolla for signs of Wyatt. So far, no luck.

“How long do you plan to stand there?” asked Isabelle in a sleepy voice.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. My body is exhausted, but my mind is wide awake.”

Grant wanted to go to her, to hold her in his arms, but he didn’t dare. Not after the way he’d lied to her about Dale. Their time together was probably over now, and as much as he wished it to be otherwise, he could hardly blame her for not wanting to be with him any longer.

It was best if he just played it cool. It might hurt less when she turned away from him that way. “I hate it when that happens.”

“You’ve got to be tired, too,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

“One of the longest ever,” he agreed. “But I’m not ready to sleep.”

“Okay, then at least come lie down.”

Grant stood still. Not “go lie down” but “come lie down.” Was that an invitation to join her? It couldn’t be. Not after what he’d done. “Aren’t you still mad at me?”

“I hated what you did, but I understand why you did it. I still haven’t told Dale the whole truth, so it’d be a bit hypocritical of me to hold it against you. Besides, I’m too tired to be mad.” She pulled back the covers, and this time, there was no mistaking the invitation.

Grant pulled off his boots, but he didn’t risk taking anything else off. No matter how mad she was at him, she still lit his blood on fire, and he didn’t trust himself not to push her for more than she was physically and emotionally ready to give. It made him an ass, but at least he knew his flaws.

He slid under the blankets with her and moved until his body was cradling hers. It felt like heaven to have her so close—to be able to smell her hair and feel her skin and know she was safe because he could feel her pulse thrumming through her body.

He probably should have insisted she stay in the hospital for overnight observation, but he had to admit this was much better. Not to mention the fact that she was an adult and fully capable of making her own decisions, even if he thought they were bad ones.

She settled against him and let out a resigned sigh. “I think we should leave town until Wyatt’s found. I can’t put Dale at risk again.”

“We can go to David’s if Dale’s caseworker will let you take him out of state.”

“I’ll tell her it’s a vacation. She’ll argue that he should be in school, but I’ll get his work from his teachers or something.”

“If she doesn’t agree, you could let me take him. That way you wouldn’t be responsible.”

“You mean kidnap him?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’d go to jail for it?”

Grant shrugged. “Better me than you.”

“How do you figure?”

“I’m expendable.”

“Expendable? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just like it sounds. If one of us has to go to jail to keep Dale safe, it should be me. Besides, if they wanted to arrest me, they’d have to catch me first. I’m pretty good at hiding.”

“No one is going to jail. I’ll get permission for a short trip. His caseworker wants Dale safe as much as we do.”

“Not likely, but we’ll try it your way first.”

Maybe it wasn’t too late for him to work with David. He didn’t even really care if he got paid. He just wanted to be useful. Included.

“What about Keith?” she asked.

“He’s a big boy. He can leave town, too, if he wants.”

“With us?” she asked.

Grant didn’t like the idea of having another man tag along, but if Keith helped her feel safe, or she felt the need to protect him, who was he to argue? “If you want. We’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Maybe they’ll find Wyatt tonight and we won’t have to go anywhere.”

She’d stay here. He’d leave. It didn’t sound that great to him. Not anymore. “Try not to worry about it now, okay?”

He felt her hair slide over his cheek with her nod.

Grant stopped talking, and after a few minutes, he felt her drift off to sleep. He didn’t think he’d be able to join her, but apparently he was wrong. Just after two in the morning, Isabelle’s cell phone woke him with its jaunty little jingle.

She stirred but didn’t wake. Grant grabbed the phone and answered it. “Hello?”

“Help me.” It was a little girl’s voice shaking with fear, and instantly Grant was wide awake, his body ready to fly into action.

He slid from the bed and headed for the bathroom as he asked, “Who is this?”

Her response was a small, terrified whisper. “Rachel.”

Amanda’s daughter. Calling in the middle of the night.

Grant forced his voice to sound calm when everything inside him was screaming that something was wrong with the child. Why else would she be calling at two in the morning? “What’s wrong, honey?”

All he heard for a moment was a harsh panting sound, like she couldn’t get enough air.

“Rachel? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a bad man in the house, and he’s hurting Momma.”

Thank God for all those years of training in Delta Force. If it hadn’t been for them, Grant was pretty sure he would have panicked. Instead, his mind was already spinning toward how to save the girl and her mom. “Where are you?”

“Under my bed.” There was a crash, like the sound of wood splintering, then Rachel yelped in fear.

“What bed? Where did your mom take you?”

“Home.”

Amanda was supposed to be out of town. Why would she be at home? He wasn’t about to waste precious time asking her about it now. “Can you get out?”

“No. I’m upstairs.”

Grant opened his mouth to tell her he was calling for help when he heard a woman’s terrified scream. A gunshot followed a moment later. Then silence.

“Rachel?” shouted Grant. “Rachel, are you okay?”

The line went dead.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Grant called Mathews on his cell while he dialed 911 on Isabelle’s phone.

Isabelle sat up in bed, bleary-eyed, but as she listened to him telling them what was happening, he saw her face go pale.

“Rachel,” she whispered.

“Sir, do you know the address?” asked the 911 operator.

“Isabelle, what’s Amanda’s address?” asked Grant, still struggling to sound calm.

Isabelle pushed her weak body from the bed and hurried into the kitchen. Grant followed her. She pointed to an address in her book, and Grant read it off to both of them.

“Units are on the way,” said Mathews.

“Police will be there shortly, sir,” said the dispatcher.

Grant looked at Isabelle and moved the phones away from his mouth. “Do you want to drive or handle the phones?”

“Phones. You drive. Use every trick you know to get us there. We can’t let anything happen to Rachel.”

Dale poked his messy head over the railing. “What’s going on?”

“Go back to bed,” said Isabelle.

Dale’s mouth hardened. “It’s my dad, isn’t it? He’s hurt someone else.”

“I hope not,” said Grant.

Isabelle was sliding her coat on over her pajamas and shoving her feet into a pair of shoes by the door.

“I’m going with you,” said Dale.

Grant knew that look on his face. He’d seen it time after time during his special forces training. It was the one men wore when they’d decided nothing was going to stop them from reaching their goal. It was the look of a man who didn’t take no for an answer.

Arguing with him would only waste time. “We’re leaving now.”

Dale didn’t even bother finding shoes. He was the first one out the door.

Wyatt heard the little girl’s whimpering cries. He doubted she even knew she was making them.

He reached under the bed until he felt the girl’s arm. He pulled her out, ignoring her ineffective struggles. She slapped at him, even clawed at his fingers, but she was too scrawny for it to be of any use.

He jerked her hard, so she’d understand who was in charge. The girl gasped, and a cordless phone skidded across the worn wood floor.

Wyatt pulled her to her feet and shook her by the shoulders. “Did you call someone?” he demanded.

Her eyes were huge and red from crying. She made pitiful sobbing noises that shook her thin frame and made him want to shake her harder. Snot leaked from her nose, making Wyatt’s stomach turn. He hoped he didn’t have to keep her long before he could trade her for Dale. He wasn’t sure how long he could stand dealing with the whimpering mess.