Page 109 of Saving Grace

I slam my palms onto the steering wheel, regretting that decision as the freezing hard plastic bites back.

“Sweet Jesus,” I moan.

Why is he doing this? Why can’t he leave me alone?

I send Blue into the darkness faster than I ever have before. This is not happening. How on earth am I supposed to tell Mack that Joel is here? And his visit is far from friendly. I’m of half a mind to let Mackinlay deal with him. No... that’s not what I wanted. Not what I asked for. Not the strong and independent woman type I’m wanting so badly to become.

What would Ruby do?

What would Louisa do? I’ve yet to witness her darker side. Anyone with eyes can tell she wears the pants. In a household of men, nonetheless. I get the feeling that when one of her own is threatened, she comes out swinging. Guns blazing. Much like her son. I see elements of Louisa in Mackinlay. The fierce loyalty. The protectiveness. The open heart.

I glance in the rearview mirror. Only darkness folds in behind me. No headlights. I release a choppy breath. As much asI want to face Joel, I don’t want to be in a mindset of less than, or of fear. Not anymore. Never again with him or any other man.

The second I walk through the front door, Mack’s arms wrap around me.

“How was your first class?” he says into my neck.

Something divine hits my senses. He cooked supper. He smells better than the food. I run a hand through his damp hair. I suck in a wobbly breath, composing myself. Mack cooked, showered, and is holding me close. Just what I need, after?—

He breaks away, holding me at arm’s length now. “What happened?”

His brows lower, mouth parted. Worry lines those deep blues.

“I—” I can’t lie. Even aching for this to not be real, I won’t lie to Mack. “Joel’s here.”

His face falls, slackening with a semblance of shock before setting hard. His jaw ticks as he pulls me back into his chest. I huff out a breath, body squeezed tight. Like if he holds me tight enough, nothing can hurt me.

“Please tell me he’s only passing through?” he growls beside my head.

“I’m not sure.” His presence was anything but innocent. He literally waited until I was alone on a dark street. Parked his car in front of mine. A mindfuck. Then the jump-scare of the century. His voice replays in my mind.“Hello, Graceless.”Grating my nerves a second time.

The fear I had convinced myself was a knee-jerk reaction on the way home spikes again. Now, with a little retrospect, I realize he’s taunting me. This is only his first play. I run through every sad memory I have still burned into my mind from our life in Raymond. The controlling. The anger. Each time his hands found my body, seeded by anger or lust. Sometimes both.

Staring at the wall over Mack’s shoulder, I can’t help the tears that burn and flood my eyes. I grip his shirt tight. “I got out,” I utter. “I left.” I’m reminding myself more than anyone else. Still, my heart racks up a swift pace with the terror of that part of my life coming back to haunt me. Coming back, period.

Mack groans, a guttural, emotional sound. A fresh flood of tears streams down my cheeks. I sob into his shoulder. His body shakes against my own. The pain I feel hurting him as much as it does me.

His hand runs over my hair. He whispers trembling words, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Gracie. I promise you.”

I asked Mack to let me handle this. To not swoop in and save me like I know he wants to. But I’m not strong enough.

I will always be broken.

My father’s voice echoes in now.“You made your own choices. This is what youchose, Grace.”

Like any woman wouldeverchoose this.

I whimper as my knees give out. Mack lowers me to the ground, pulling me into his lap and cradling me. His hard shell around my vulnerable broken one. At least for this moment. I thought I was going to be able to hold it together. To do this for myself. For Mackinlay.

I can’t.

I’m scared.

Hopelessly needing to be free of who I was before.

I was doing so well.

Sobs rack through my chest. My eyes burn. My lungs void of enough air, spots filter into my vision despite my eyes being closed. I slump against Mack’s warmth, curling into myself. Clutching his shirt like it’s the last lifeline I have. Somehow, I know he is.

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