Dad and I walk through the front doors and see Mom, Gretchen, and Stacy sitting at the dining room table, looking morbid as all hell. They look up when we enter, and Mom leaps up, rushing toward Dad. I know she loves him, no matter how selfish she can be, I’ve known it my whole life. Talk about dysfunctional. He puts a hand up when she gets close, and mutters, “I have nothing to say to you, but you have plenty to say to Grace. Don’t you think?”
She nods, hanging her head, and turns to face me. “Baby,” she begins, and I flinch. She’s never called me that. “I … I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’ve become. I should never have spoken to you like that. I am proud of you, Grace. I am. Really I am. I got caught up, lost myself, I didn’t mean it.”
I sigh. “It’s fine, Mom.”
“It’s not fine,” she wails, and tears spill out of her eyes. “I was awful to you.”
I nod. “Yeah, you were. It’s finished now.”
She lunges at me, throwing her arms around me. I know that this is guilt talking and she’ll be back to her goody-goody self in a matter of days, but it still feels nice. I close my eyes and hug her back. It’s been a long time since she’s hugged me with warmth. When she pulls back, she places a kiss on my cheek and turns to Dad.
His eyes are on Gretchen and she’s practically shrinking under his glare. “Well?” he barks.
“Sorry, Daddy.”
“Isn’t me who you hurt.”
She turns her eyes to mine. “I’m sorry, Grace.”
She doesn’t mean it, I know she doesn’t, but I take it anyway. “No problem. Sorry, I, ah, pulled your hair.”
She rubs her head, remembering. “It’s fine.”
Hah.
Yeah right.
Dad turns to me. “You need me to take you home?”
I shake my head.
He reaches out, running the back of his hand down my cheek. “Proud of you, princess.”
I smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
Then I turn, without another look, and head out the door.
That’s the best I’ll get from them, but it’s enough.
* * *
The night is long and torturous, but when I wake the next morning, I’m ready to face the world again. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I know I have to. I get dressed, and knowing I have a few days off, decide to go out this morning and get my coffee. Maybe even breakfast.
When I’m ready, I head out the front door but stop suddenly when a gravelly voice comes from the corner of my porch. “You lied to me.”
I close my eyes. Raide. “How?” I whisper.
I turn and see him standing, arms folded, eyes intense. “You said it mattered, when I know it fuckin’ doesn’t.”
I stare at him. Really stare. He’s a broken man. I can see it in the depths of his amber eyes. What happened with his sister, it destroyed him. He’s hurting, and he’s struggling to cope. He wants revenge because it’s the only thing he has left to hold on to.
“You’re right,” I say. “I did lie.”
“Why?”
“Because you scare me.”
He flinches and steps forward. His hand reaches out and runs down my face. “Don’t be scared of me, baby. I won’t hurt you.”
Baby.
I close my eyes, turning my cheek into his hand. This is dangerous, so damned dangerous. Yet I don’t want it to stop. I can’t make it stop. I want to spend every waking second with this man, and what I am feeling right now is so deep, I’m not sure I’ll dislodge it anytime soon.
“Raide,” I whisper.
“Come away with me.”
“Raide.”
“Give me one fuckin’ chance, Grace. One. It’s all I’m askin’.”
I close my eyes, and my shoulders sag. I have a few days off. I can do this without harm, right? Maybe if I go away with Raide, he can tell me more about what happened and I might be able to help him. Then, when I bring him in, he might have the chance to be let back out. It’s worth a shot. It’s probably just a poor excuse, but I need him again.
“Okay.”
“Look at me,” he says, lifting my chin. “Stop being so afraid of something you don’t know.”
But I do know it. He just doesn’t know that.
“I have a few days off,” I say, ignoring his words.
“Good, then go inside and pack a bag.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise.”
With a nod, I turn and walk inside the house. He follows me and I see his eyes scanning the area as we make our way past my small kitchen and into the hallway leading to my bedroom. “Nice place,” he says, his voice husky and low.
“Thanks, it’s not much to anyone else, but I’ve worked hard for it, and it’s mine, so I cherish it.”
“Understand that,” he mumbles. “Aren’t your parents stayin’?”
I flinch. Shit. I didn’t even think of that.
“Ah, they changed their mind at the last minute. Dad got sick.”
“Right, that sucks.”
Oh, thank God he bought it.
When I reach my bedroom, I fling the door open and step in. I pull out a bag and start stuffing clothes into it. I’m midway through when I feel his finger slide down the back of my neck. I shiver and close my eyes. It’s been a terrible few days and I’ve longed for his touch more than I’m willing to admit. So I just stand there, taking in every amazing second that his finger slides over my skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice throaty and dripping with masculinity.
Beautiful.
It’s been so long since someone looked at me like that.
“Raide,” I breathe.
He silences me by pressing his lips to the side of my neck. I let my eyes flutter closed as my body sinks back into his. His arm wraps around my middle and we stand there like that for a good long time, his arms around me, his lips on my neck. I sigh and turn my face, capturing his lips with mine. He doesn’t waste any time spinning me around and kissing me softly, all lips and no tongue. Meaningful. Beautiful.
When we pull back, I feel it for the first time. A connection that goes deeper than my job, than his revenge, than the game we’ve been playing. Raide and I connect—for what reason I don’t know, but it’s real and it’s intense. He’s made me feel things in a short time that I’ve struggled to feel my entire life. He makes everything seem … easier. Even in our complicated situation, he makes being around him feel effortless.
“Pack some walking shoes,” he says before running his lips over mine again.
I pack two pairs.
Then we get into my car and hit the road.