Page 91 of Saving Grace

“Gorgeous girl, we should clean up before you get cold.”

“Mhmmm.”

I set her to her feet, and she steps back and into the warm stream of water. The bar of soap in my shower is gliding over her body as my focus returns. I’ve never been this caught up inmy head about a woman. Ever. My heart rate picks up, sending blood thundering through my head.

What if something happens to Grace?

What if she realizes small-town life isn’t what she wants? I mean, I have no idea what kind of size Raymond, Mississippi is, probably not a metropolis, but Lewistown isreallysmall.

She’ll get bored with the art teaching gig and...

Tingling starts in my fingers.

Grace replaces the soap and reaches for the shampoo. It slips through her fingers and falls.

Bang!

I flinch. Ringing starts up in my ears.

I shake my head. But it sticks.

My hands curl to fists. The water hitting the tiles hisses to gunfire. The sound of someone calling my name is drowned out by the swoosh of rotors.

I cling to the air in my lungs, terrified to exhale, not knowing if the next breath belongs to me. Something closes around my face. Tight. Warm.

Memories, no reality. No, they have to be memories... Flip through my mind.

Butters walks away from me.

I shout at him to stay put.

That never happened.

This is not my reality.

I can’t find my way back.

“. . . Mackinlay . . . plea?—”

I smack both palms up the side of my head violently, trying to knock the sound out, and drop to my knees.

A gasp penetrates the swoosh of the rotors. I force air into my lungs.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Something stings my face. I snap my eyes open, hunting for the source. Blue eyes close in. Tight with worry, they search my face in erratic passes.

“Oh my god, Mackinlay... where did you go?” Her voice shakes, her reddened palm shaking by her side where she kneels on the hard tile in front of me.

“I—”

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