Nick turned at the sound of his name. Before him stood two overdressed teenagers. “Hey, Petey,” he said, “you’re looking sharp.”
Petey blushed. He fingered his tie nervously. He hadn’t wanted to wear a suit, but his mother insisted. He couldn’t wait to tell her that he was one of the few in the room. Nick was wearing dressy pants and a silk shirt, but no jacket…and no tie!
A cough from his right brought Petey back to the present. “Um…Nick…I would like you to meet my girl…I mean my date…Tammy Colevito. Tammy, this is Nick Carter.”
Tammy was frozen. No brain function. No sensory or motor skills. Nick Carter. Omigod! They would not believe this at school. And he was holding out his hand to her.
“Pleased to meet you, Tammy.” Nick shook her hand. “And this is my…well, my brother…Kevin Richardson.”
Tammy looked up at the green eyes. Omigod. Nick and Kevin. Two Backstreet Boys. Please don’t let me wet my pants, she prayed.
“Hi there, Tammy,” said Kevin, shaking her hand. He held it for a moment, trying to will calmness into the shaking teenager.
Petey mentally rolled his eyes. Yeah, good move, Petey. She’s not even going to know you’re alive now that she’s seen these two. He cleared his throat. “Um…I just wanted to thank you for the tickets. It was sure nice of you to give them to us.”
“No problem,” said Nick. “Thank Grace. It was her idea. Well, I gotta get backstage. Nice to meet you, Tammy.”
Tammy nodded, but said nothing. She was incapable of speech. Nick winked at Petey and then moved off.
“Oh, Nick...” Petey called him back. “One more thing. When you see Grace, tell her I didn’t see anyone watching her building today.”
“Okay,” said Nick. What was this? Was Petey the Neighborhood Watch guy or something?
“But I did see that car twice – the black one, her ex-fiancé.”
“Matt?” What was Matt doing at Grace’s building?
"Yeah, that's the guy. I saw his car twice. Tell Grace."
“Okay,” said Nick. “I will. But…”
“Come on,” said Kevin. “We’re up next.
Nick followed Kevin backstage. They were presenting one of the awards tonight. Backstage, they were told it would be another ten minutes. Nick puzzled over what Petey had said. He pulled out his phone and moved to a quiet corner.
“Come on, Nick. We don’t have time for that now.” Kevin looked at his watch.
Nick waved him off. “I have to call Grace…make sure she’s okay.”
Kevin moved over to him. “Why wouldn’t she be okay?”
“Something Petey said.” Nick shushed him. The phone was ringing.
******************************The ringing of the phone startled them both. It happened at the same time the lights came back on. Grace thought it was an electrical thing, until it rang again. Matt’s eyes turned in the direction of the phone and Grace made a break for the door.
But she didn’t get far. Matt grabbed her by the arm and threw her against a pillar. It knocked the wind out of her and she slid to the floor, gasping for breath. Matt grabbed the headset off her desk and threw it at her. “Put it on,” he screamed. He went over and hit the talk button on the console. Then he came back and knelt in front of her, placing the point of the knife on her left breast over her heart.
“Hello,” she whispered into the phone.
“Hey there. You took a long time to answer,” said Nick.
“Who is it?” hissed Matt. “Is it him?” Grace shook her head.
“Yes, I’m wearing the headset and working,” she said.
“Oh, okay.” Something didn’t sound right about that to Nick, but Kevin was tugging on his arm and it was hard to hear. Applause could be heard in the background.
“I just called to see if you were alright,” said Nick. “I talked…”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Petey just delivered a pizza, so I’m set for the night.”
“Petey? But..”
“Gene, listen to me. I have to go. Say ‘hi’ to your brother. Get him to tell you what I said to him when he brought me home from the hospital. It’s really funny. Bye.” She took the headset off and threw it across the room.
“One of your computer geek friends, Grace?” said Matt hitting the Disconnect button on the console. Grace blessed the fact that she didn’t have a speakerphone. She nodded slowly.
******************************Nick looked at the phone with a puzzled expression. Something wasn't right. Why had she called him Gene? And her breathing sounded funny.
"Hey, Kev. What did Grace say to you the day you brought her home from the hospital?"
"I don't know. We talked about a lot of stuff. Why?"
Nick filled him in on what Petey had said, and how weird Grace had sounded on the phone. "It took her a long time to answer, but she had her headset on. She usually answers on the first ring. And she called me Gene."
"You must have heard wrong. Maybe she said 'sweetie' or something." Kevin looked over at the floor director, who waved at him and held up one finger.
"No, we don't do that. We never have for some reason."
"Come on," said Kevin, "They want us." He touched Nick's elbow and moved him forward.
Nick took two steps and stopped. "And she said that Petey had just delivered a pizza. But Petey's here."
"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Kevin Richardson and Mr. Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys."
They started out on stage. Kevin will be pissed, thought Nick. He told them to mention him in reference to JWR, not the group. Nick looked back at him, but Kevin had stopped walking. He was deep in thought, staring down at the floor.
Suddenly, he looked up. "She said she would die before she would hurt you." His green eyes bore into Nick's blue ones.
The audience was startled to see the two men turn and run from the stage. One person in the audience stood up. He had seen Nick mouth the word, "Grace" before he ran from the stage. Petey grabbed Tammy by the hand. "Let's go," he shouted and dragged her out of the ballroom.
******************************"I guess you think you're pretty clever, don't you?" said Matt. Grace looked up at him. He punched *69 into the phone console and held it up for her to see. "It's Nick's number, you stupid bitch."
"It can't be," said Grace. "Cell phones don't show up..." Her voice trailed off as she realized she had walked right into his trap.
Matt came slowly toward her. "Trying to save the dumb little bastard's ass, are you Grace?"
"I will die before I let you hurt him." Grace looked him straight in the eye.
"Well, you're going to do that anyway, aren't you Baby?"
She sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am, Matt. So why don't you go ahead and get it over with?"
"Not yet," he said, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to her feet. He pushed her in the direction of her computer. "Turn it on," he said. He pushed her into the chair.
She booted it up. Could she use the computer somehow, she wondered? Yeah, right, email for help. That would work.
"Open your email," said Matt. Grace wondered if he had read her mind.
She clicked on Outlook.
"Show me the messages I sent you," ordered Matt.
"I didn't save them," she answered.
Matt grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. He took the knife and ran the point down her throat to the top of her bra. It felt like a line of fire and she could smell blood. Grace tried not to react but she couldn't stifle the moan.
"We can do it easy or we can do it hard, Baby," whispered Matt in her ear.
"See for yourself," said Grace, forcing the words out around the pain.
Matt looked at the monitor. He clicked on Folders. Oh, Christ. She had so many fucking folders.
He turned back to her. "Open them up, one by one. For every one you open that doesn't have them in it, I'm going to cut you. It's up to you how long it takes you to find them."
Grace took a deep breath. How hard did she want to make this? She didn't think Nick had picked up on what she had said. That was good and that was bad. It meant that he was safe, but it meant that there was no help on the way. Was there any reason to let Matt torture her to gain time that might be pointless? Because she knew there was no way she could talk him out of this. He was going to kill her.
"Open them," Matt screamed at her.
Grace had hesitated too long. The knife burned down her throat. With a shaking hand, she moved the mouse over her Inbox. 38 messages, 23 unread.
"Scroll down," snarled Matt. "No, don't open them. I don't give a shit what people have to say to you." He was looking for his address. "There, that one. Open it."
Grace recognized the address. She clicked it open. "You're dead," it said, in big red letters. Verdana Font. 36 point, the professional in her guessed.
"Delete it," he said. Grace hit Delete. The message disappeared.
"Good girl," he said soothingly. "Now, pick another folder."
Grace clicked on Sent Items because it was the next folder. She realized her mistake immediately.
So did Matt.
"How fucking stupid do you think I am?" he screamed and drew the knife blade along her collarbone. Grace screamed in pain.
"I'm sorry," she cried out. "It's habit."
"Yeah, well you'd better think before you click. Pick another one."
Grace looked down at her chest. It was covered in blood. How long could she go on? She looked at the clock. It had been ten minutes since Nick had called. Ten minutes that seemed like an eternity.
******************************"What's taking so damned long?" Nick yelled at Kevin.
"It's only been ten minutes," said Kevin. "They're on their way."
Kevin and Nick had dashed from the stage and run full tilt into security. Kevin grabbed the head guy and explained the situation as quickly as he could. "Call the police," he said and gave them Grace's address. "Get some help over there."
Then he had grabbed Nick by the arm and dragged him from the building. On the sidewalk, he looked around. "Hey, you," he yelled at the driver of a white, stretch limo. "We need your car."
"Yeah, right," said the driver sarcastically, "It's life or death, right?"
Nick threw the man up against the car. "That's right, Buddy. It is. Now are you driving or am I?"
"Get in," the driver said. He ran around to the driver's side.
"Go!" yelled Kevin.
"Stop!" yelled Nick and threw open the door. "Over here, Petey," he yelled and grabbed a startled Tammy, pulling her into the car.
Kevin gave the address to the limo driver and explained the situation. The driver proceeded to drive like he was in the Indy 500, squealing around corners and going way, way over the speed limit. The rain had stopped, but the streets were wet. What the hell, he figured? If the car got damaged, these guys could afford it, and if he could get them there in time, he might be a hero.
"Tell me what she said. Everything." Nick said to Petey.
So Petey explained that Grace had asked him to keep an eye on the building whenever he was out delivering pizza. She thought someone might be casing her place, maybe looking to steal her computer equipment. Petey said that he did what she asked and any time he went by, he'd look to see if there was anyone suspicious around. Especially around the bakery.
"Why the bakery?" asked Kevin.
"You can see Grace's windows from right outside it," said Petey, blushing. Nick wondered if maybe Petey had spent a little time there himself.
"And did you see anyone?" Tammy asked. This was the best evening she'd ever had. She'd never been in a limo before.
"I saw Gary a couple of times, you know the security guy from the building. I asked him about it and he said not to tell Grace, but that he was watching out for her too. I never saw that Matt guy, but like I told you, I saw his car twice today."
Gary. Matt. Nick had never liked the way Gary had looked at Grace, but, no, it was Matt. He knew it was Matt.
"Is Grace going to be okay?" Petey was afraid to ask the question but he was more afraid not to.
Nick looked at Kevin. Kevin looked at Nick. Nick wanted to answer Petey's question but he couldn't.
"How much longer?" he called to the driver instead.
"Ten minutes," yelled the driver, careening from one lane to the next, with his hand held firmly on the horn.
Kevin pulled out his phone and punched buttons. He turned his head away from them and talked into it, one finger in his ear to keep out the other noise. He disconnected and turned to Nick. “That was Bernie,” he said, naming their agent. “He’s going to get everybody together in one place.”
In case she’s dead, thought Nick. We’d need to circle the Backstreet wagons, wouldn’t we? Make sure that everyone’s story was the same and that nothing bad would reflect on the group. Good ol’ Kev. Always looking out for the group. He looked over at Kevin and knew he couldn’t be more wrong.
“For you,” said Kevin and Nick knew it was true.
“Get your hand off that horn,” Nick yelled to the driver, as he saw that they were getting close. “And go past the building and turn down the first side street.”
The driver complied. As they drove past the building they could see two police cars arriving without sirens. They pulled up in front of the building and uniformed officers got out. The driver turned the limo into the side street and stopped with a screech of the tires. Nick was out of the car and running before it came to a halt. The others spilled out of the car. Petey looked up at Grace’s windows.
"It's him," he said, pointing up to the man looking down at them. "It's Matt."
******************************Grace was running out of time and she knew it. She had taken Matt's advice to click carefully. She had chosen two folders that she knew had many messages in it. He made her scroll carefully through them and then both times had kept his promise and had sliced another line across her skin.
"Do you think you can hold out long enough for me to spell my name, Baby?" he asked her.
"Why is it so important?" she asked.
"I want those messages deleted," he said. "Like you did that other one."
Gotcha, you sick bastard, thought Grace. Matt seemed to think if you deleted a message, it went away. She knew it went into the Deleted Items Folder and stayed there until the Folder was emptied. She decided to take a chance. She might still be dead, but they could catch him. She clicked open the SFC folder. There weren't very many messages in it. Half of them were from Matt.
"Delete them," he said. "No, not those others. Leave those there. Just delete mine."
Grace carefully deleted each message. Then she closed the program quickly before he noticed the Deleted Items Folder. She looked sideways at him. She could see the outline of his erection against his pants. She stood up.
She heard a car honking, but then it stopped. She had lost. Now she just wanted it over. She just wanted him to do it.
"Gonna fuck me before you kill me, Matt?" she asked pointing at his pants.
"Would you like me to do that, Grace? Would you enjoy that?" he asked, a lascivious leer crossing his face.
"Haven't so far," she goaded.
"You fucking bitch," growled Matt, raising the knife. He stopped as he heard a creech of tires. He turned to look out the window. He saw Nick leap from the car and run around the corner.
"Well, well, well," he said, "Looks like we're going to have company. Blondie's here."
******************************Nick raced past the police officers standing in the entrance to the building.
"You can't go in there," said one of the cops, stepping in front of him.
"4B" yelled Nick, pushing past him. "He's going to kill her!" He took off for the stairs, taking them three at a time. He ran down the hall and pounded on the door. "Grace!" he screamed. "Grace."
The police officer who had hurtled up the stairs behind him pushed him out of the way. He kicked with all his might. The door gave a little, but not much. Nick moved to help him, and they both shouldered into the door. The frame splintered and one final kick from the cop sent it flying open. From inside the apartment they heard the sound of breaking glass and a horrible scream.
******************************When Matt turned back from the window, Grace made her move. She pushed the chair at him to throw him off balance and then she hit him. He stopped, stunned and she hit him again. He raised the knife and this time she really hit him. The blow propelled him backward and he crashed against the windows. He fell through and dropped four floors to the pavement below.
Grace stared at the windo trying to comprehend what had happened. Then her knees couldn't hold her any longer and she sank to the floor.
******************************Nick raced into the room. "Grace!" he cried, "Grace!" He looked around wildly. He saw a body sprawled on the coffee table, a knife sticking out of its back. But it wasn't Grace. He heard a whimpering sound from the computer area. He looked over. "Oh my God," he said.
Grace was slumped on the floor leaning against her desk. She was covered in blood. And clenched tightly in her hands was her precious Louisville Slugger.
