Grace’s heart felt like it had taken up permanent residence in her throat. Hand shaking, she opened the door and stepped into the living room, where Holly stood on the other side of the couch, one arm down by her side, holding something Grace couldn’t see.
Grace’s pulse skyrocketed. She glanced all around. There was no sign of Brian.
“H-Holly,” she managed. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking what’s mine, Grace.” There was a bite to Holly’s words, and her dark brown eyes held no hint of mischief as they so often did. No spark of friendship either. “Where’s your notebook?”
“My notebook?” Grace asked, having trouble catching up. “Why would you want—”
Her voice cut off abruptly when links clicked into place in her mind. The harassing e-mails back home, the threatening phone calls even after she’d changed and unlisted her number, the notes left on her front porch and inside her house on the counter in her kitchen.
Holly had access to her house. Holly knew every time Grace had changed her number or e-mail address to protect herself from some insane stalker. Holly had talked her into coming up here to Vail. She’d also encouraged her to find a guy to have a “wild fling” with to take her mind off everything.
To distract her? It seemed like that now, but Grace didn’t want to believe it. And she still needed to know why.
“You came all the way up here for my notebook? Why?”
“Why?” Holly scoffed. “Because I deserve it. You never should have gotten that contract. I’m the lyrics. You’re just the music. Anyone can write music, but lyrics takes talent. Talent you never had. You only got on that reality show because your mother’s a Vegas show slut and your father was a womanizing billionaire. That may make for good reality TV, but you couldn’t even make it past the third round. I knew you were going to fail there, just like you always fail at everything. The only reason you got that contract with Royalty was because you fucked Tate Kendrick. Just like you fucked McDreamy. That was a bad move on your part, Grace. A very bad move. I told you to get rid of him.”
Panic pushed its way up Grace’s chest, and she looked around the empty room again, searching for Brian. Needing to find him. “Holly.” Her gaze snapped back to her friend, and a new sense of panic filled her when she saw the venom in Holly’s eyes. A bitter hatred Grace had never noticed until right now. “Where is Brian?”
“Gone.”
Gone. The word echoed in Grace’s head, and dread filled her stomach.
“It actually works out better than I planned,” Holly went on, a smug smile across her face. “Instead of an anonymous stalker the police will never find, they’ll link your disappearance to some guy who followed you to Vail and picked you up in a bar. And since he’s already dead, he won’t be able to tell them otherwise. Then the contract will be mine.”
Dead? No!
Fear and rage and disbelief swirled inside Grace like a firestorm. “No one will believe this. And Royalty will never give you my contract.”
“Oh yes, they will,” Holly snapped. “Because we have a business partnership. In writing. You remember those forms you signed years ago, Grace? The ones my lawyer drew up that give each of us permission to finish out the other’s work should something happen to one of us? This counts.” She pulled her arm from behind her back and pointed a gun straight at Grace’s forehead. “Now, where’s the fucking notebook?”
Brian’s head hurt like a motherfucker. At the moment though, all he saw and felt was a blinding red as he looked through the kitchen window toward the living room of the villa.
Grace stood steps from the open bedroom door with her hands up. The same psycho woman who’d nailed him with a shovel was pointing Brian’s weapon straight at Grace’s head.
Oh no, you crazy bitch. You are not fucking taking her from me.
He moved around the side of the building, found the master bath, and hoped like hell the storm muffled the sound for breaking glass when he shoved his elbow through the small window.
An alarm would go off in the security center, but it didn’t sound in the villa, and for that he was thankful. He was also thankful that black widow hadn’t checked to make sure he was still alive before she’d swiped his keys and let herself in.
He wiggled his way through the small window, then crept soundlessly into the master bedroom. His heart lurched into his throat when he heard Grace’s panicked voice pleading with the woman holding the gun.
“Holly. Think about this. My brother knows I’m here. And Brian isn’t just some guy who picked me up in a bar. He’s one of Jake’s operatives. No one will ever believe Brian is my stalker.”
Silence echoed from the other room. Brian inched along the shadows, moving closer to the open door. Son of a bitch. The gun he’d left on the dresser was missing.
“It’s no matter,” Holly said. “It’ll look like your stalker took him out. I can still make this work. Now give me the notebook so we can be done with this. Because if you make me look for it, Grace, I’m going to make you suffer.”
“Holly—”
“I’m the talent,” Holly yelled, her voice rising. “You’re just the fucking name. Why do you think I agreed to work with you? Not because I liked you. Not because I thought you were going to lift me up. Because of your name. And you betrayed me with it. Now give me the damn notebook!”
Brian’s pulse was a roar in his ears as reached the edge of the open door. Grace’s back was to him. Options raced through his mind. He judged the distance, the probability of grabbing her and dragging her through the door before Holly’s gun went off. Knew he wouldn’t make it. Then he spotted his Beretta, tucked into the back waistband of her jeans.
She’d grabbed it before she’d gone out there. His smart, sexy, amazing woman.
“The notebook!” Holly screamed.
They were out of time. He knew panic when he heard it. Panic and desperation.
Brian lunged through the door. “Grace!” His hand wrapped around the gun at her back, pulling it free. His other arm shoved her behind him. “Get down!”
Grace screamed. Her body hit the ground. A shot echoed through the room. He fired and threw himself over Grace.
A crash echoed, breaking glass and wood, followed by a thud. Then everything went still.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Grace repeated, her voice shaking, her body trembling beneath him.
Brian pushed himself up and looked toward Holly. Her eyes were wide and lifeless, her hair a wild red mess around her face, her body lying in the broken remnants of the coffee table. The gun was feet from her on the floor. A bullet wound gaped dead center in her chest.
He looked back behind them. Her shot had hit the plaster to the right of the bedroom. Inches from their heads.
“Oh my God,” Grace rasped, trying to push up.
He captured her, turning her away from the carnage. “Don’t look.” Pulling her tight against him, he held her close while she shook and worked to steady his own raging pulse. “It’s over now.”
Grace dug her fingers digging into his back. “I didn’t know it was her. I didn’t know. I didn’t think. I…” She swallowed hard and froze against him. “Is she…dead?”
His eyes slid closed, and he pulled her in tighter, needing her warmth right now Needing her. Hating the answer. “I…didn’t mean to hit her there. But when I saw her pointing that gun to your head, I just reacted. I’m not ready to lose you.”
She sank into him, burying her face in his chest. And he went on holding her tight until her shaking eased. Outside, sirens echoed, but they were moving slowly because of the storm. They never would have gotten here in time. He’d done the right thing. But knowing he’d killed her friend… He wasn’t sure if she could ever forgive him for that, no matter how crazed the woman had been
“I was wrong,” she whispered. “I guess I needed someone to watch over me after all.”
She was lightening the mood, surprising him all over again when she could do the exact opposite and push him away. Relief filled his chest. He slid his fingers up into her hair and held her against his heart, hoping she could feel what she meant to him with every soul-shattering beat. “You do. You have a knack for finding trouble. Something tells me you always will.”
And he wanted to be the one to go on watching over her. If she’d let him.