Page 38 of Saving Grace

His face is strung out. His chest plunging. My hands are numb, wrapped around the hem of my shirt. My jaw is clamped shut, tight. Tears stream down my cheeks, but this time, ironically, they are not tears of sadness. They are for the gratitude I feel for my freedom.

The Ferris wheel whines to a stop and every person gets off. We don’t move, and the lady walks to our carriage and gestures for us to move.

“Send it around again,” Mack bites out.

When she starts to object, he swipes out his wallet and hands her a bunch of cash. “Again!”

A moment later, we jerk upward, and the wheel goes around.

This time, it’s just for us.

Chapter Ten

MACK

We’ve been home for hours. Grace made tea and we went our separate ways, to sleep. Or not, in my case. The vision of her terrified at the hands of that fuckin’ asshole runs on repeat in my head. There’re no war scenes in my head tonight, only played out versions of what she told me on the Ferris wheel.

The house is quiet.

I toss and turn. The tea’s not doing anything tonight.

I push out of bed and hobble to the kitchen on my own two feet. Somehow, being on crutches doesn’t make sense to me now. My hip screams in retaliation at my independence. I ignore it. I pull the fridge open and bend to find something to take my mind off every-fuckin-thing.

“There’s a plate of chopped veggies and cheese on the second shelf,” a soft voice says behind me. Seeing it, I pluck it up and close the fridge. Grace stands two feet from me, her cotton dressing gown wrapped around her pajamas, her hair up in a messy bun that’s more mess than bun. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been tossing and turning.

“You wanna share with me?” I offer.

“If you don’t mind the company?”

“Nope, prefer it, actually.” I pad to the sofa.

“Mack!”

I freeze. Shit, did I forget my boxers or something? I glance down. No, they’re on. And she’s used to my bare chest by now.What the?

Her hand rests on my forearm as her face lights up. “You’re not using your crutch.”

“Oh, yeah. Sweet Jesus, Grace. Thought I’d forgot I was naked or something.”

She laughs, loud and hearty. More hair slips from her bun and around her shoulders. She folds over with hysterics as she drops onto the sofa and tucks her legs under herself. She takes the plate from me as I lower myself onto the sofa.

I swear she blushes as she studies my face. “You know, you seem even taller without it. Bigger, or something.”

In the dimly lit living room, all I can focus on is Grace backlit by the moonlight outside from the almost full moon. The angles of her face, the softness of her brown hair. Those light blue eyes that are a contrast to her other features. All I want to do is take her beautiful face in my hands and kiss her.

As comfortable as we are around each other, I’m one hundred percent certain we are nothing else but boss and employee. After everything she told me tonight, her heart has been through enough. I won’t be another person to hurt her.

She moves closer to share the plate, and our shoulders touch. “Out here with you is so much better than alone in my room with the same old nightmares.”

Her voice is too soft, and it’s like someone slapped me in the face.

“Nightmares?” I manage to ask.

“Same one, every time. A repeat of the last night in Raymond, but I never leave. I don’t make it that far. Then it changes, they are taking what they want, my vision turns red, my body jerkswith every move they make. After, it’s as if the red darkens until it’s black, and I’m suffocating.”

Holy fuck. That’s damn horrific.

“Do you feel safe here, Grace?”

---