He opened the door and stepped aside so both women could walk inside the room. He followed and shut the door behind them. Kit wasn't on the sofa; the only reminder that she'd been there moments earlier was her blanket and Bible. Grizz motioned to a seat at the other end of the couch, and Christy sat down. Moe turned Grizz's desk chair around and sat so she was facing the room.
Christy surveyed the tiny but stylishly furnished living space and tried to imagine the woman who was married to the green-eyed monstrous man. She conjured up an image of a tattoo-riddled, hard-lived woman with ratty hair and bad skin. Her thoughts were interrupted when the telephone rang. She heard a woman's voice call out from another room.
"Is anybody out there?"
"I've got it, baby," he said as he stood and headed for the small kitchen. Christy was certain she detected affection in his tone.
"Yeah?" he answered gruffly, and after a beat, "I have something that belongs to you."
After hanging up and returning to the living space, Christy watched as the big man perched on the end of a recliner.
"Was that Anthony who called?" she asked quietly.
He nodded.
"So, you're ransoming me back to him?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Before he could answer, they were interrupted.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you came in. I had to use the bathroom. I'm Kit."
Christy's jaw almost hit her chest when a young and pretty brown-haired woman walked into the room. She was the total opposite of what Christy had imagined. Christy stood as the woman approached her, her right hand outstretched and her smile sincere. It was obvious that she'd been in an accident. An accident that must've done a number on her face. The bruises were fading, but the amount of discoloring made it obvious that her injuries had been serious. There were thin red lines on her lip and cheek. She must've had stitches removed recently, Christy thought. There was a cast on her left wrist.
"I'm Christy," she said, her voice a little shaky.
"We need to get some ice on your face," Kit told her. "Your nose and cheek look puffy. And you've already got a giant knot on your forehead," she continued, squinting like she felt Christy’s pain.
Kit spun around to head back to the kitchen when Grizz stood and grabbed her arm. "Moe can get it," he told his wife, his deep voice resonating throughout the small living space.
"I can get it, Grizz," she told him.
"Grizz?" Christy interrupted, her tone one of bewilderment. "You're Grizz?"
"You know each other?" Kit asked sweetly as Grizz guided her to the sofa. Moe had already jumped up and was heading for the kitchen.
Christy didn't miss the grimace of pain when Kit took a seat at the other end of the couch. She also didn't miss the look of tenderness from Grizz when he stood and helped his wife arrange her blanket. He took the Bible from her and laid it on the coffee table.
"No. We've never met," she told Kit. "I've heard Anthony mention his name." Grizz had leaned over to lay Kit's Bible down and looked up meeting Christy's eyes. Just like in Anthony's spare room, an unspoken agreement passed between them and Christy knew that she wouldn't be going into any details about her situation with Anthony Bear.
"You're a friend of Anthony's?" Kit asked, her eyes lighting up.
"Yes," Christy said with a timid smile. The woman was having a calming effect on her.
"I see you're an AC/DC fan too," Kit commented.
Christy wasn't exactly sure what she meant until Kit nodded at her shirt and said, "Moe loves AC/DC. She has one exactly like it.”
Christy knew that Grizz hadn't shared with his wife that her shirt had practically been ripped from her body. Kit didn't know she was wearing Moe's T-shirt. She nodded and smiled at the woman.
Grizz leaned back in his recliner as Kit engaged Christy Chapman in conversation. He was amazed at the calming effect his wife had on the woman. He'd noticed Christy’s body language relax as Kit treated her like a long-lost friend. He was so proud of Kit. His young wife had been beaten, raped and left for dead two weeks ago, but her first concern was for the woman who now sat in their living room. He was certain that Christy was captivated by Kit's loving and kind nature and had temporarily forgotten the circumstances that had brought her to the Glades Motel and what had happened just outside their door. They talked about everything from Fleetwood Mac to Masterpiece Theatre and he had to stifle a yawn more than once. Sometime during the course of the next hour, Moe had taken it upon herself to offer drinks and snacks and it wasn't too long before Grizz insisted that his wife take something for her pain.
It didn't take long for Christy's heartbeat to return to normal. She found the ice pack soothing and gratefully accepted the drink that Moe wordlessly offered. She felt calm and safe in this small group's presence. She had to admit, it was the most unusual group of people she'd ever met, but she felt no threat and sincerely enjoyed talking to Kit. She noticed that even though Kit addressed Moe more than once, Moe never answered. She nodded or shook her head, but never said a word. Christy had a difficult time reconciling the scary man she'd met outside with the man who now gazed at his wife with such tenderness it almost caused an ache in her own heart. She'd never once allowed herself to wonder what it would feel like to have a man look at her that way. Her heart yearned for something that had been buried for so long, her brain wouldn't let her conscious mind recognize it. And when she did, the impact to her heart was deep. Love. She wanted to be loved.
Her thoughts drifted as she tried to bring a memory to the surface. A memory of being held in huge, strong arms while soothing words of comfort she didn't recognize were whispered in her ear. A feeling of complete and total security. A place where something deep inside told her she belonged.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Grizz stood abruptly.
"Bear's here."
Chapter Seventeen
Naples and Fort Lauderdale, Florida 1978
Two Hours Earlier
After tossing Christy's blank check back on his desk, Anthony picked up the phone and called Alexander.
“I don’t care if the police are looking for her. I don’t care about the lie we’re fabricating for the other sharks. I want it known that Christy Chapman is mine and if anybody so much as touches a hair on her head I will skin them alive,” Anthony said through gritted teeth.