Page 11 of Saving Grace

Adds and Rubes held it together, mostly. I know they were upset. And Reed. The thought that I could have caused one of his anxiety attacks twists my own gut into knots.

Laying my head on the back of the sofa, I listen to the puttering of the well-meaning people in my house. Harry is talking in hushed words to Ma in the kitchen, something about meals and burning my hands.

“. . . you know he can’t . . .” Ma trails off.

Light steps.

“There is spare linen in both bedrooms, if anything needs changing during the night,” Ruby says to Ma.

Boots march through the house. The front door opens and closes, and Huddo’s muffled curse words settle over the patio outside. With a crack and some hammering, I can tell the old board is up and a new one is in its place.

A castle fit for a cripple.

Grinding my molars for the umpteenth time today, I pinch the bridge of my nose as Addy explains to Laws my physio and medication regimes for the third time.

Tension coils low in my gut.For fuck’s sake, he was there when the medical staff ran the entire family through it, Adds. We got it, already.Laws is only here for one night. The information is in the discharge summary for the nurse. Why is everyone acting like overbearing helicopter parents?

“Don’t forget the pain meds, twenty minutes before he starts, to minimize the pain and maximize his workout-slash-physio sessions, okay?” she insists.

Fire tightens my chest, and I push up too fast on wobbly feet. The crutches clatter as I try to pull them to my sides. “Enough!”

The room falls silent.

Ma’s shock-widened eyes find mine. I slide my heated stare to Addy. “We get it, Adds. But you’re done.” I wave my hands at my family, whose faces are a mix of hurt and empathy. “You’re all done! I can manage by myself. I don’t need a goddamn daycare routine.” I shift my gaze to Laws. “Or a fuckin’ babysitter.”

Adjusting the crutches with a harsh grip, I hobble through the front door to find a fuming Hudson. Yelling at his wife wasn’t my finest hour. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. He crosses his arms over his chest, his hot gaze and drawn browsfollowing me as I stagger over the porch and down the stairs. My knuckles turn white on the rail as I make a dubious descent.

“Mackinlay, come back... please.” Ma’s voice is all beg.

I don’t want to respond.

A stone explodes in my throat, lodging tight.

I can’t respond.

I hit solid ground with both feet, somewhat steady, and head for the barn. Dizziness creeps in around me like an unwelcome blanket. Like hell I’m goin’ back inside. Not until the welcome home wagon leaves this ranch in the dust.

Harry’s soft words to Ma fade as I stalk awkwardly into the barn. The large space is one side of stalls, the other, rows and rows of hay. A small tack room sits in the back corner, and I head for it, like a man desperate for refuge in the worst storm.

Out of breath and hating every fiber of my being, I slump against the wall inside the darkened room. Groaning, I slide down the old wood and onto a pile of saddle blankets. The musty scent of horse and hay folds in around me.

Quiet seeps into my ears at an alarming rate. The sounds of the last few moments on that roof burst through the white noise.

It’s then I realize, I made it home.

But I never made it out.

Chapter Three

GRACE

Hot tears roll across the broken skin of my cheek and set it stinging. Hands firm around the wheel, I squint through puffy eyes and unshed tears into the dark night. Blue’s tiny headlights are all but useless. But I can’t stop now. I refuse.

The constant rattle of the VW engine soothes the hurt in my chest and drives me forward. With only the bag I packed and half of the cash from my mom, I head for the county line. Praying Joel and Timmy are too drunk to follow. If they do, my next prayer is that the cops find them before they find me.

Northbound, I hold up my phone and reread the job post for a cleaner somewhere on a Montana ranch. That should be enough distance to keep Joel from looking for me. Or being bothered to come find me, at any rate. With only half the money Mama sent, I will have to use it all for gas. Luckily, Blue travels light in that department.

Should I run short, I will have to either splash and dash or earn some more money to fund the rest of the trip. I guess the best place to stop would be somewhere closer to Montana, but math has never been my strong suit. So, I’ll drive until I can’t, then figure it out.

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