Page 15 of Saving Grace

My knees had buckled, the pain in my chest was debilitating. I must have cried out because suddenly the eyes of everyone in the courtroom were on me, including Atticus.’

“Why did you plead guilty, he deserved to die!” I screamed. I ignored the surprised gasp from the people in the courtroom, not caring what they thought and meaning every word I said. His daddy had been an abusive piece of shit, and everybody in town knew it but said nothing. I wished I would have been the one to kill him. I’d have done it without an ounce of guilt and I would have damn well gotten off for it.

I ignored everybody in the courtroom who tried to come over and calm me down. I swatted away the bailiff trying to help me from the floor. I didn’t need help. I just needed Atticus.

He watched me act like a plum fool and all he did was apologize again before being led away. I felt a piece of me break away when he disappeared behind those doors, and when he sent my hundredth letter back unopened, I knew I would never be the same.

I thought nothing would ever hurt me as bad as his rejection had, but then my granny died six months later, two days after I turned seventeen and I found out I could hurt more.

At my granny’s funeral, the Momma I hadn’t seen in twelve years showed up. She was tall and lean; light skinned and had the face of an angel. I looked nothing like her, and for some unexplainable reason— that made me feel good about myself. She was dressed in expensive clothing and even though she looked like she was doing well money wise, she still showed up with her hand out. She wanted to sell Granny’s house but couldn’t because Granny had left it to me. She wanted her share of Granny’s life insurance policy, but that was in my name too, all would be released to me on the day I turned eighteen.

After she found that out, she told me I would be going to Atlanta with her and the creepy looking white man hanging on her arm. He was huge, standing 6’5, and weighing about 270 pounds, with blond hair and sharp, menacing ice blue eyes and even though he was old, he looked to be in good shape. I hated the way he was always eyeing me, so I avoided him.

When I think back to what happened after I moved in with them. I wished I would have just given it all to her. She would have probably taken it all and left me to fend for myself. The time I had to spend living with my Momma and her “husband” turned out to be worse than losing Atticus and my granny combined.

“Grace!” Atticus calling my name brought me back to the present. I quickly blinked back tears and focused on him.

The way he was looking at me let me know he knew I was reminiscing about the past.

I tried to smile, but in reality, all I wanted was to cry. I wouldn’t. I’d promised myself years ago that I’d leave the past in the past. Veronica didn’t cry about Grace’s heartache. I closed my eyes tight and thought about more pleasant things, like my granny laughing, and me and Atticus swimming in the lake during the summer.

When I opened my eyes Atticus was coming towards me. I shook my head stopping him.

I cleared my throat. “I’m alright.” I lied, and turned away from him, I switched my thoughts to what had brought about our impromptu reunion, my husband. The right now was easier to deal with than the past.

“What is going on, Marcus?” He looked terrible. Again, I wondered if Atticus had done something to him, he looked nothing like himself.

“I, um. I was-- un,” he stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence.

“Tell her.” Atticus’ tone was deadly.

Marcus started talking. I pretended I didn’t know anything and just listened. By the time he finished I was left wondering. Who the fuck is this man? I thought I had found out about all his lies on his computer but turns out he had a lot more to confess.

Besides a child and baby momma, he had a mistress, and a gambling and hooker habit. That’s why he was nearly broke.

When he got to the part about borrowing money from some of the most dangerous men in Florida and Georgia, I couldn’t handle listening to him anymore. I lost it. For years he’d been putting my life in danger and I had no idea.

I’d run away from one crazy-fucked up situation to end up in another. How could I have been so clueless?

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and slapped him, it felt so good —I did it again, I didn’t stop until my hand hurt. He stood there and took it without retaliating, because he knew he deserved it, or maybe he was too scared to do anything with Atticus in the room.

My heart started hammering against my chest I stopped. The familiar pangs of a panic attack set in. I needed air. The room was too stifling, too small. I tugged at the collar of my dress. I couldn't breathe. I pushed over the chair I was sitting in when I stood.

I rushed towards the door, it seemed so far away and the room was spinning like I was on a tilt-a-whirl. Suddenly my knees were buckling, but before I could hit the ground I was being lifted. I looked back to find Atticus holding me, his brows were creased with worry, but in his eyes—there was something evil swirling in them, it was scary.

Surprisingly, being in his arms caused my heart rate to slow, but the feeling of dread in my chest didn’t subside. I looked from him to my husband and had the urge to tell Marcus whatever was about to go down, wouldn’t be good.

I knew I had to intervene.

“I’m good Atticus, put me down.” He put me down without hesitation and focused his wrath on Marcus. He took a menacing step in his direction.

I grabbed his arm to keep him from doing something violent

He turned his head, and speared me with a glare so angry I could physically feel it. There was so much anger in his eyes, but I didn’t need him fighting my fights anymore.

“Don’t make this worse, please.”

His lips curled unevenly into a scowl. He nodded.

---