Page 12 of Saving Grace

When I’m a little past Little Rock, I pull over into a rest stop and lock the doors. It’s well past two in the morning and my eyes struggle to stay open. Killing the engine, I twist the flared seat knob and lean back, following the seat back as it reclines. Just an hour or so and I can keep going...

Something hits the window in rapid succession.

I jolt up on the seat, eyes wide as I stare up into the face of an older man. His police uniform is immaculate, his hand still a fist by the window. The sun glares through the smudged glass of Blue’s windshield, halfway up the pale sky already.

Shit.

Clearing my throat and fixing my hair, I roll down the window. Blue’s old mechanism sticks, and I have to push the glass down as it retracts. “Sorry, Officer, did I do something wrong?”

His focus shifts to the damage on my face.

Heat soars up my neck and flushes through my cheeks.

“You heading somewhere, hon? Or you need help?”

“I—” Breaking his gaze, I drop my eyes to the steering wheel. “I’m fine, just got tired and needed to pull over, that’s all.”

“Well, you can’t sleep here.”

“I know. Won’t happen again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be safe.” He digs a hand into his hip pocket. “Here’s my card if you decide you need my help.” With a not-so-subtle nod to my face, he forces a smile and returns to his police vehicle. I curl my hand around the card. Any luck, I won’t ever need help with Joel again. Too scared to have called the cops thelast few times, I suck in a lungful of air, reminding myself I got out.

I left.

Maybe eighteen months later than I should have. But I did.

Better late than never, right?

There is a sliver of me that hurts for the relationship I lost. The one I was still fighting for, even up until the last moment. For the guy I fell for at almost nineteen. The sweet, charismatic, and spontaneous man. Now, his words that turned vile when he found the money Mama sent for my birthday hook into my mind, talons sharp and deep, over and over.

“The fuck, Grace? You had this? You hiding money from me now?”

“No! I—Mama, she sent it to me. I swear.” I hate the weakness stealing my voice.

“Your mom?” Incredulous words twist his face into a facade of utter disbelief. “That bitch wouldn’t send you anthrax tied up in lit fuse. Don’t lie to me!”

His roar scares me, more so than ever before. Terror snakes down my spine as his hands turn to fists at his sides. I scramble backward, heading for the en suite door. My back slams into the door and I snap around as it opens and weave through it, turning the lock as the air in my lungs turns to ragged sobs. I try to calm my racing heart.

He’ll cool down.

It’s fine.

I’ll show him the card and?—

The door rattles at my back under his thundering fists.

FUCK.

Fear turns to fire racing up my spine. A tremble starts in my hands and spreads through my body. I hunt for something todefend myself with. A disposable razor, a toothbrush. The sum total of the available weapons.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Grace! Open this fucking door. NOW!”

Don’t open the door, Grace.

Do not open that door.

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