Another clip to the chin. With every bit of contact, her face reddened, bruised. Her bottom lip bled.

  “One more,” Crewcut said, “and we’ll go to something far more painful.”

  Grace’s chin rested against her chest. She said nothing.

  Silence permeated the room.

  Had she taken too much? Had he broken her?

  Hollis’s breath caught as an invisible charge filled the atmosphere and he studied Grace.

  Slowly, her head lifted and she stared Crewcut in the eyes. “You have at it, big boy,” she said softly but menacingly. “You don’t know pain but I’m gonna get a turn real soon...and you will.” She licked the corner of her lip and held his gaze; his cheeks blanched. Even Clive was taken aback.

  This was the wolf Clive described. The machine he’d built.

  But this was not Grace. Not the new faith-filled Grace. “Grace,” he murmured.

  She turned to him. “Just hold on, Hollis. Won’t be but a minute now.” She grinned and winked.

  Grace had her memory! It was there in her eyes. All her training. Her cunning. Her skills. And everything in between.

  But they were bound and he’d been a SEAL and wasn’t able to break free of the bindings. What made her think she could?

  “Please don’t do something stupid,” Hollis begged.

  “Enough!” Clive’s bark cut through the room. “Nice to see you, Max.” He seemed disappointed. “She won’t talk now. You can beat her to a bloody pulp.” He gestured with his thumb toward Hollis and Crewcut moved over. “You want to know why you’re here, Hollister Montgomery? Contingency plan.” He nodded and Crewcut went in with a strong uppercut. Hollis’s head rung.

  This was gonna be a long night.

  TWELVE

  Grace braced herself, but kept an unemotional expression plastered on her face. Inside, she was screaming and crying for Hollis. Clive was right. This brave, wonderful man had been brought into her mess. He knew enough to know that Hollis meant something to Grace.

  Siobhan had said she’d been watching Grace for a few days. She’d seen her interactions with Hollis, and having known her before the amnesia, Siobhan knew there were deep feelings involved.

  But Crewcut and Clive didn’t know how deep. That gave Grace a sliver of a fighting chance to stop this, and she would.

  Blood poured from Hollis’s nose, down his chin. The young agent wasn’t someone she knew or had met before. But he was clearly enjoying the beatdown.

  “This could all be over, Max. Just tell me where she is,” Clive said.

  Grace held her emotions in check. When her memories had flooded in, it had been overwhelming. All she’d ever done. Been.

  The day Clive told her the truth about what he did for a living. What her father had done. Why he’d missed so many family events, important dates in her life. The distance she had always felt. She’d been furious with her dad for years and that day she learned the truth, she couldn’t even tell him how sorry she was for the times he had reached out and she’d rejected him—put up a wall so he couldn’t hurt her again. That anger had held her back from following in the faith she’d been raised by Mom to have. She’d been furious at Dad and God. And she’d turned away from both.

  Until her amnesia when she’d forgotten she’d had misplaced anger directed at her heavenly Father and with a clean slate, given her life to Him.

  That guilt had been heavy. So heavy before the amnesia. The frustration at Mom for not telling her the truth but making excuses had been unfair, but when Grace became an agent, she understood. Her kind of work—Dad’s kind of work—was a secret to everyone. The only reason Mom had known was because she’d been on a task force with him at one time.

  Clive had recruited Grace and promised they’d find who was responsible for crashing their plane and he would help her get revenge. She unleashed that rage and used it to be at the top of the game. Strong. Lethal. Cunning and powerful. Every time she’d kissed her locket before taking out a target she’d been told was involved in their deaths, she’d been kissing them. A locket she’d never been able to open, even before the memories faded away. She’d assumed it had only looked like a locket and wasn’t meant to be opened. Now, she was glad she’d never destroyed it. It would have been pointless!

  “You do what you think is necessary.” She had to pretend she didn’t care about Hollis and trust that he knew the truth. Understood the gravity of the situation they were in. Clive wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted.

  He was telling her the same story as before she lost her memory.

  So was Patsy.

  Grace wasn’t sure who was telling the truth then or now. That’s why she’d escaped the compound and hidden Patsy—to gain the truth for herself. If Patsy had lied, she’d go to prison. If Clive had, then Grace would have worked tirelessly to gain the necessary evidence to have him put away. She never had the chance to dig.

  Noel had shown up after she hid Patsy in the safe house she’d purchased under a fake company name and hid from everyone. Being an agent had led her to extreme precautions and heavy paranoia. She’d been on her way to Natchez—since it was only a few hours—to visit Mom and Dad’s gravestones. Grace felt Mom would want to be at rest with her own parents. She had talked about them often. And Dad would want to be with Mom. No bodies, but they’d put the markers there and Grace wanted to put down flowers.

  But Noel had found her outside of Cottonwood before she could get to the cemetery—get to the work of uncovering the truth.

  She might have lost the toxin that day, but she still had the research, and now with her recovered memory—she knew exactly where it was.

  Hollis took his punishment in silence and Grace looked on as if it didn’t faze her. Clive held up his hand for the younger agent to stop. “What’s a few punches, right, Max? That’s kindergarten.”

  Oh no.

  She kept an uninterested glare on Clive.

  “When did your memories return?” he asked.

  “Today. When Hector’s men tried to drown me in a mud puddle. Bit insulting. Right before Siobhan got the drop on me. In my defense, I was still hazy from the drug she clearly slipped in my coffee to slow me down. What did you tell her that would make her turn on me? Knock me out. Let this young idiot pound on me.” She worked to keep her voice from shaking, her legs from bouncing in fear. Fear for Hollis. Clive would kill him. There had to be a way out of this.

  “She knows you’re confused. She knows you have killer instincts. None of us enjoy this. None of us like to see you this way, but what have I always taught you? Taught all of you.”

  “Anything by any means for the greater good.”

  “That’s why Siobhan is willing to hurt her closest friend. She will regret it later, I’m sure. As we all will.” Clive moved behind Hollis.

  Grace feared he would break his neck.

  He knelt.

  “All your memories?”

  “Enough.” Yes, all of them. Every shameful thing she’d ever done. Every hurt, disappointment, regret. Every dastardly deed. But now was not the time to fall to pieces over them. God would help her through it. Every scripture she’d read, every word of hope from Hollis and Tish were right there in the mix.

  Yes, she told the agent she would make him pay and it would be painful, and she couldn’t deny wanting to hurt him for hurting her, but it was mostly a scare tactic. She was not Mad Max bent on revenge. She was Grace Thackery now. A new creation in Christ. She’d chosen not to kill Hector’s man, but she could have. She would not hurt the agent, unless she was forced to protect herself or Hollis.

  And she would not kill Clive if it was true that he was responsible for her family’s death. Nor would she kill Patsy.

  She wanted to heal. To be free. And if all things were possible through Christ—then she could. Would. And she knew that they were. She believed every word of scripture.

  Clive took Hollis’s hand. Hollis’s jaw twitched, clearly anticipating what Clive was about to do.

  Dread filled her gut.

  “Maybe you don’t know where Patsy is at the moment. The whole town, including us, is almost under water. A real mayhem. Coast Guard is out there and everything. But you know where she was last. Just tell me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  With a quick snap, Clive broke the bone in Hollis’s middle finger. Blood whooshed in Grace’s ears. Hollis didn’t even flinch. That was her navy SEAL hero. Strong. Brave. Tough as nails. Solid to the core. Would he be able to forgive her for this? When all was said and done, he might ask her to go. She had deadly enemies—all over. Any one of them might decide to track her down for a vendetta. He’d be right to be done with her. Her heart sank as low as it could go.

  How much more of this could she endure? Seeing Hollis broken for her...

  Clive’s cell phone rang. He answered, listened then grinned. “See you in five.” He stood and moseyed in front of the chairs, talking to the younger agent. “Chopper’s waiting at the Lander’s field. Can we drive out of here?”

  “We got a Coast Guard RIB.”

  Rigid inflatable boat. High-speed power. The flooding must be even worse than before Grace had been knocked out by Siobhan—where was she anyway? And why leave now? They didn’t have any information.

  “It appears we don’t need you to answer. I have what I need.” He turned to the younger agent. “Get the RIB ready. I’ll join you in a minute.” After he left the cooling unit, Clive sighed. “By the way, Siobhan said to tell you that you’ll no longer be able to wear those red heels.”

  No. The world tilted. Siobhan found the heels she’d been wearing the day Noel had tried to kill her. The last thing she wanted was to not have the flash drive on her person and that meant wearing the shoes, but she was accustomed to being in heels for long periods of time in many undercover operations. This time, she’d added the dress and had planned to sweet talk a set of keys from one of the used-car salesmen for a test drive alone. If he was distracted by her looks, she had a better shot of gaining the keys and stealing a car. But Noel had found her first.

  It had all gone downhill after that.

  Those heels. The right heel came off the shoe and revealed a secret flash drive attached. Grace had stored all of Patsy’s research and notes before burning the lab to the ground. Not to hide it from the DEA, but to keep it from Hector, Clive and even Patsy. Now that Clive had it, he had everything to produce the cicutoxin component that could destroy millions. If he was crooked, like Patsy said, then he would sell it to enemies.

  “What are you going to do with it?” Grace asked.

  “What I do with everything. Keep it safe. Out of the hands of those who would hurt Americans. I’m not the bad guy, but you have forced my hand.”

  “And Dr. Sayer. You’ll leave her be now?”

  “No. She’s a criminal. And we already have her. When the town went under water, they evacuated to higher ground and into neighboring towns where flooding hadn’t occurred yet. She was among them.”

  “Not alone. She’d have a deputy guarding her.”

  “There are always causalities in war, dear.” Clive started for the door, then turned back. “Would you come willingly with me? I’ll forgive all you’ve done.”

  “All I’ve done!” What about the maiming and torturing and killing Clive had done? Even now, Grace still didn’t know the whole truth. But she couldn’t believe Clive. Not when he’d hurt her, hurt Hollis. Murdered an innocent deputy. Judith Ryland.

  “Go with him,” Hollis said.

  “What?”

  “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Clive said and pulled his gun. “You’ll be dead either way.”

  “Don’t!” Grace hollered. “I’ll go!”

  “You’re only saying that to keep him alive—it won’t. He knows too much. And if you won’t come to be loyal, then you’re a liability.”

  Grace had to do something. Quick. He would kill them both. “Wait. If you’re going to kill us, then at least tell me the truth. Please. Did you have anything to do with my parents’ death?”

  “I did not kill your parents. Do you want to go first so you don’t have to see Hollister die?” he asked as if asking her to choose a flavor of ice cream. “I’d give you that gift.”

  Suddenly, Hollis burst forward, knocking Clive to the ground. The gun clattered to the floor. Hollis’s chair broke and he slid his feet free, kicking the gun across the room. His hands were still bound to the chair.

  Clive jumped up and kicked Hollis backward then raced out the door and slammed it shut.

  “Hollis! Are you okay?”

  He used his weight to slam the chair down again and it shattered, but his hands were still bound. “Can you get me loose if I come behind you?”

  “I can do better than that,” Grace said. “I have a knife strapped to my right calf.”

  “I could kiss you,” he said, his face was streaked with blood and his left eye had started to swell. He sat on the floor, his back to her, but he couldn’t get his hands higher than her ankle. He growled.

  “Move out of the way,” she said.

  Hollis scooted forward.

  Grace shivered and spotted the vent. Icy air blew heavily from it. “Did they—”

  “Drop the temp? Yeah. They’re gonna try to freeze us to death and we’re wet, so it won’t take long.”

  Grace used that fear and rocked hard in her chair until it tipped backward, jarring her head. Her arms screamed in agony at the odd angle she’d forced them into. “Get that knife, Hollis.”

  Hollis slid his hand up her pant leg and unsheathed the knife, cut himself free then sat Grace upright and freed her.

  The second she was unbound she threw her arms around his waist and clung to him. “I was so scared. I’m so sorry I let them do that to you. You have to know it was killing me.”

  He cradled her face. “I know. You did what you had to. I’m proud of you, Grace. Do you truly have all your memories?”

  She nodded. He was proud of her? That was not what she expected to hear. “Clive and Patsy are telling the same stories they did two years ago. But either way, Hollis, I don’t trust Clive. He killed Judith Ryland and whoever was guarding Patsy. That’s taking innocent lives. We have to stop him. We have to rescue Patsy and get that research.” She told him how it was stored in her heel and how Siobhan duped her. Every bone in her body had turned to ice.

  “We got to get out of here,” Hollis said. “Now.”

  Grace clutched her locket and kissed it for good measure, an old habit. But no longer did she need a locket to help her out. She had the power of prayer.

  Hollis worked on the door but it wouldn’t budge.

  Scanning the room, Grace’s eyes landed on some tools in the corner. She searched for anything that would work to get them out but found nothing. The temperature continued to drop covering her in goose bumps. She worked to focus on something else besides that—a tactic learned in her training with Clive.

  “Grace,” Hollis said and pointed upward. “Vent. It’s too small for me, but you could get up there. Get out and open the door. But...you’d have to fight the glacial air, push against it to the main vent, break through. It’s dicey.”

  It was their only shot. She ripped his rain jacket and wrapped her hands in the material like mittens for some protection against the biting air blaring at below zero up inside there.

  “Give me a boost.”

  Hollis cupped his hand and she put her boot in it, but he didn’t hoist her up. Instead, he searched her eyes. “I want you to know that letter... I do not accept it.”

  Now wasn’t the time to discuss it. “Boost me up.”

  “Promise me you won’t give me the slip once you open that door.”

  She touched his cheek. “I promise. Time’s ticking, Hollis.”

  He lifted her and she punched the vent until it gave way, then she hauled herself inside, her body protesting in pain.

  “Hollis, if I don’t make it out—”

  “Don’t even say such a thing.” His voice and eyes adamant.

  “I’m being realistic.”

  “Time’s ticking, didn’t you say? Get up there. Get to the door. Get me out,” he said through chattering teeth.

  “And think warm thoughts?”

  “Tropical beaches. Roaring fires.”

  She sighed and crawled through the icy vents. Her toes went numb.

  Her fingers.

  Couldn’t think straight.

  But she pushed through, searching for a way out. A way to Hollis.

  She grew tired.

  Her muscles stiffened.

  So...tired.

  Her hair felt stiff, frozen against her skin.

  * * *

  Hollis paced the freezer, anxious and also to keep warm, but it wasn’t working. He was freezing and warm thoughts had long been buried in icy pain. That kind of frigid air blowing full blast...if it was a far crawl... Grace could die of hypothermia in there. And he wouldn’t be able to get up there and rescue her. After she’d gone up, he’d splinted his broken finger best he could with what little he had to work with. Now he chewed on his thumbnail, aggravated that he was stuck in here and unable to help.

  Grace was alive at least. Would she have to run and go underground? Would she be able to save Dr. Sayer? Would anyone believe her when she claimed Clive had a deputy murdered? Grace knew Clive better than anyone and if she said he’d eliminated him, then he had. But it was an upstanding agent’s word—and his cronies following orders—against hers. They could twist it any way they pleased.

  Their situation hadn’t changed. Even if Hollis begged to run with her, she wouldn’t let him. She would give him the slip. Tell him to make a life here and forget her. It would be safer—but would it? If Clive Epps realized that Hollis was alive, he’d come to finish what he started. He wasn’t out of the woods.