Page 108 of Saving Grace

I push my shoulders back and decide to own this shit. Now and from this moment on. Channeling my inner Ruby Rawlins, I open the front door and greet the small crowd of excited folks. A range of ages, from my age to somewhere around the eighty mark, with the oldest man wobbling in on a walking stick. Good on him.

“Evening! My name is Grace. Come on in.”

Every face beams back at me with wide smiles.

Of course they know who I am. I usher them to the back room and wait while everyone finds a place. Sucking in a long, grounding breath, I clap my hands together. “Welcome to your first painting class.”

And we’re off.

The next ninety minutes fly by. With me showing the class basic skills, we prep and dream up projects for the next ten weeks in which they will sketch out their piece and decide on technique and use of color. Then finally, in week five, we will put brush to canvas and make a start on their first oil piece.

Eight o’clock rolls around too fast, and I have an excited and motivated bunch of brand-new artists. We pack away our work for the night and study each other’s brush strokes, the techniques learned tonight. “Well, that is all for tonight. Tuesday, our next class, we will start sketching out the project. So, over the weekend put some thought into what landscape youwant to paint. You all have done amazing work this evening. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

They collect their belongings and file out, chatting with fervor as they go. I switch off the lights, trailing behind. Once the last student finds their car and is safely away, I tap the code into the security panel and lock up. That familiar scent from earlier today lingers on the gentle night breeze. I scan the street, now convinced I have missed something I shouldn’t have. But in the darkness, nothing is amiss. Again.

Unlocking Blue, I toss my bag and phone onto the passenger’s seat and slide on in. It’s when I close the door and turn over the VW engine that I see it. The car parked in front of mine. Stilling, I let my gaze roam the street. Every other car has left. Leaving Blue and the banged-up white Volvo in front of us.

I study the car, my gut sinking at a rapid rate.

Mississippi plates.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

GRACE

Iopen the driver’s door and stalk down the sidewalk, eyes frantically searching the inside of the only car left on Main Street Lewistown besides Blue. Trash lines the back seat. Chip bags, empty cigarette packs, and the thing I wasn’t wanting to find.

Joel’s tattered cap.

Fuck.

Buzzing starts up in my pocket.

I slide the phone out.

Unknown number.

Double fuck.

I stare at it, rage burning its way up my core and flooding my limbs. This shit ends now.

“Who is this?” I snap into the phone the second my finger slips the answer bar across the screen.

“Hello, Graceless.”

His voice sends fear skittering down my spine and bile surging up my throat.

“How did you get this number?” I hiss out.

“Oh, you know. Small towns and all.” He’s chewing something. Most likely gum. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

I whip my head around, needing to see between the shadows. But the street is deserted. As I’m about to give up, something moves in the darkness mere feet from where I stand.

My throat closes over, stealing the air from my lungs. I smash a finger on the screen and shove the phone into my pocket, grappling with Blue’s door handle. After what feels like an age, the door pops open and I throw myself into the seat.

I start her up and screech backward in reverse before throwing her into gear and taking off down Main Street. I fly through the gear changes, heading for the outskirts of town, only releasing a breath and sucking more into my burning lungs when I clear the last set of lights and turn onto the highway, no Volvo in sight.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!”

---