Climbing Out

Preface

Deanna

As I watched Zara and her new husband twirl on the dance floor at their wedding reception, I wanted to throw up. Then again, I was also so fuckin' happy for her; maybe that was why I felt sick to my stomach...

She looked absolutely beautiful in her designer gown, even if her baby bump was showing. It was as though she pulled her dress from a page in a princess storybook and slapped it on herself. Bitch.

Only she deserved this happy day, and so many more after the hell she'd been through. Even though three months had passed, it still felt like yesterday when I'd come out of Griz's room at the compound to find Zara had been taken. The thought that I'd possibly lose my best friend shattered many things inside of me.

Yes, she pulled out of it, but I knew what something like that could cost you mentally. Sure, she seemed fine on the outside, but the inside would be a different matter. At least she had her boss-man to take care of her, and I knew he would.

Sighing, I sat back in my chair, and even though my insides were playing turmoil, I felt myself smile. Zara would soon be whipped away for her honeymoon in Fiji, the vacation they never got to have because everything turned into crazy-arse wedding planning mode. She was so excited about it, and when she got excited, other people also joined in on her thrill ride.

From the look in boss-man's eyes, I knew she'd be on her back in a matter of time. I chuckled to myself. There was no way I'd ever want to be in that situation. Okay, so yeah, I could do with the part of being on my back, just without the being married and knocked up bit.

My eyes searched out Griz. He stood on the other side of the dance floor, casually leaning against the bar; his eyes were on me. I squeezed my legs together. Goddamn did I want that man, but he kept fighting it, and right then I was glad he did.

My life for the next seven months or so was going to be busy. I didn't need the distraction, and I knew as soon as I had my hands on Griz, I wouldn't ever want to let go.

I looked to my bag and saw the letter sticking out. I pushed it back in and zipped it up. That was the second letter; I got the first one when Zara's shit had started. Both were like a knife to my stomach. I thought I'd gotten rid of him from my life—obviously that wasn't the case.

I had eight months before he came looking for me.

I could only hope my plan would work.

If not...I'd be dead.