Page List


Font:  

Rage.

They say it’s blinding.

They were wrong.

Because I saw everything.

All of it coated in red. His blood on my hands. Restitution for my mother’s that was on his.

It was my fault. It was my fault. It’d always been my fault.

I lurched for the gun.

Bennet smashed me across the face with it.

I didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

I dove for him.

My chest seized with the gunshot that rang through the air.

Forty-Two

Grace

Gaping through the shock, I stared at the messages that Ian had sent me.

It was the first I’d heard from him in a week. It’d been seven days that I’d spent lost to the worst sort of torment.

Floating through relentless waves of grief and worry and sorrow.

Unending.

Boundless.

Fathomless.

Fear had become the focus of it, Reed’s constant texts shifting into callous warnings. Words about me running out of time. To make the right decision.

They didn’t feel close to being a plea.

They felt sinister.

My gramma had promised me going back to him wasn’t an option. But I didn’t know how to keep hanging onto that when it felt as if everything I adored was slipping away.

How long could I remain at my grandmother’s house alone, while Reed continued to dangle my children over my head like bait? While I didn’t know if they were safe or cared for? While I couldn’t kiss them and tuck them in at night?

But this? I squeezed my phone tighter. This felt like the first glimpse of hope I’d seen all week. The sun promising to break over the horizon.

A glimmer of light.

That gift my grandmother had been talking about.

All the while, his goodbye obliterated the remains of my heart.

What was he saying?

What did he mean?

Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to question it. Even after everything, I still trusted him.

Wholly and completely.

The man he’d shown me was real, even if for his own survival he couldn’t acknowledge it.

I pushed out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, and slipped my feet into tennis shoes. The night was all around me, pressing into the bedroom, and my heart began hammering out of control.

I swore I sensed something approaching in the howl of the wind and the whip of the branches raking on the eaves.

Something ominous.

Wicked and cruel.

Taking my phone with me, I slipped through my bedroom doorway and eased down the hall and into the foyer. I stopped there, my breaths turning shallow as I waited.

Listening.

Praying that the police officer would show up and tell me everything was okay. That my babies were safe. That I was safe. That Ian was safe.

I jumped about ten feet in the air when someone pounded on my door.

Then I blew out a breath, relief bounding through my system when I realized that the officer had to be there.

It was short-lived.

Terror rippled through my bloodstream when I peered through the peephole and saw Reed standing there.

“Open the fucking door, Grace. I know you’re there.”

“Go away,” I shouted. It was nothing but a plea from my soul. “Just . . . go away and give me my children.”

“You know that’s not going to happen.”

A light flicked on from the other side of the house, and I could hear my grandmother shuffling through the night.

“That squirrely bastard,” she hissed. “I have half a mind to go after that boy with a frying pan and teach him a lesson. Lord knows his mama must not have done it.”

If only it were that simple.

But it wasn’t.

I could feel the magnitude of this all the way to my soul. After tonight, nothing would be the same.

I could feel myself at the edge of a cliff.

Oblivion or paradise.

I had no idea which was waiting beneath.

I pressed my finger to my lips, begging my gramma not to say anything.

I turned back toward the door. “Go away, Reed. There isn’t anything you can say that will make me go back to you. This is a losing battle.”

A fist battered at the wood again, jolting me back. But it was his voice that shocked through me like a thunderbolt. “Fuck, Grace, listen to me. Please. You are in danger. And it’s my fucking fault. I accept that. But if you don’t leave with me right now, there isn’t a way for me to protect you. I need you to come outside.”

Dread whipped through my spirit. “Where are the kids? Oh my God, Reed.”

“They’re safe. But you have to hurry.”

I reached for the lock.

“Don’t you dare leave with that man.” Gramma was right there behind me, trying to drag me back.

I turned to her, complete and utter desperation flooding from my pores, as heavy as the tears that immediately clouded my sight. “My safety isn’t the concern anymore, Gramma. It’s my children’s. And I will do whatever I have to in order to make sure of that. I can’t risk it.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” I thought it was her own surrender. The moment she realized I didn’t have another choice.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance