Page 71 of Grace

He grabs his black tank top and walks past me. I feel as if a sharp knife had pierced my heart. Pain claws at my chest, and a sob tightens my throat.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I’m standing at the sink and watching deep red droplets of blood fall onto the dirty gray tiles, one by one, in a steady rhythm. My skin is cold and clammy—it feels as if icy water was coursing through my veins. My head is a beehive. My ears are ringing, as if water were gushing from a faucet. It’s been a long time since I was this far beside myself. Betrayal weighs heavy on my heart. Cyrus’s betrayal—and our fight this morning—only deepened the wounds in my heart. He knew how important it was for me to feel safe. He hid the truth from me to protect me. But I had the right to know that Chase was walking the streets of Willow Creek—and that he could come for me any time. I understand why he didn’t tell me right after Bo’s gang raped me, but later—maybe—he could have.

Who do you think you’re fooling? A voice whispers from the back of my mind. The news would have crushed me no matter when I heard it. But back then, I wouldn’t have had to face the fact that the one person I trusted unconditionally had “betrayed” me.

My thoughts are shattered by a sound.

Someone is knocking on the front door.

I’m standing at the sink when the fog clears from my vision—now I can see my hand, still bleeding. Pure terror floods my mind. The tiny drops falling at my feet pool together on the tiles.

Who can it be?

Maybe the police officer Cyrus sent. Maybe he asked him to check on me a few times after seeing how badly I’d fallen apart. Yeah. It’s probably him.

Another knock rattles the thin hardboard, but I don’t move—past and present blur together, flashing through my mind. Memories and images surface, then vanish as another one replaces them.

“I know you’re in there, Grace!”

Rationality drains from me, like through a sink with the plug yanked out. My tear-blurred gaze snaps to the door.

This is impossible!

“Grace!” The pounding on the door continues, then someone presses down the door handle, and the door… opens.

Did I forget to lock it?

The realization is a slap in my face, while she…

“Aren’t you happy to see me, little sister?” Nikky flounces in with a fake, icy smile on her lips, dressed in chic clothes, then closes the door behind her.

Then I remember what Bo told me about her. How could I not see it? They were in touch the whole time. Nikky must have heard that the gang she loved so much has met its end, and soon they’ll be rotting under the ground. I gulp and open my mouth to say something when the door blasts open and slams against the wall. Flakes of paint rain onto the floor. This aggressive intrusion makes my heart clench.

At first, gratitude floods my body, but when I look at who burst in, the blood drains from my face along with all rational thought. It’s Chase, not Cyrus. I go pale like a corpse, and my eyes nearly pop from their sockets as I stare at him with my mouth open.

So Chase knows where I live? And Nikky too?

Chase looks first at my hand, then at the floor, then at Nikky, who’s chewing gum. She never got rid of that annoying habit. She pulls the pink gum from her mouth and twists it around her index finger, her gaze flickering between Chase and me, eyebrows raised.

No one says a word. The air around us seems to evaporate—I feel as if someone had yanked the ground out from under my feet. I want to explain everything, but my tongue won’t obey.

“Nikky,” I moan in a faltering voice. My throat is as dry as sandpaper.

“I’ve always known you were lying, Grace,” she spits, then looks around the flat. My jaw twitches.

Intruder.

Her seeing where—and how—I live with Cyrus makes me uncomfortable. Not because I’m ashamed of it, but because she’s crossed my boundaries. She came—they came—into my house, my home, my personal space, and they had no right.

Nikky sprawls across my bed, putting her legs on the clean bedsheet without taking off her shoes. Bile rises in my throat, and I almost throw up.

Why did she come here? Why are they here at all?

I hadn’t seen Nikky since that night—I hadn’t even heard from her. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air.

Chase steps in front of me without a word and looks at my bleeding wound. He takes my hand in his palm, gently—his touch sending a shiver through my body. My breathing turns shallow, because his intoxicating scent and worried gaze hold me captive.