Page 38 of Holding Grace
No response.
“Look at me, Grace.”
She did as I asked. It was there in her eyes. She was fighting it, but her instincts were telling her to run.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I repeated, willing her to believe me, to have faith in me. “None of us will. Everybody we were with today, and Jamey, and Kendrick – all of us are on Team Grace. You’re not alone. You just have to stay here with us and let us help you.”
There was no way I was letting this woman disappear out of my life again, especially knowing someone was after her. It wasn’t happening.
Grace nodded slightly as she drew in another breath. “I’m staying. I have to stop this. I can’t run forever, and I don’t want to leave here. I didn’t want to last time.”
My heart rate calmed a little at her reassurance.
“I just wish I knew how they found me. Or found where I’d been, anyway. I must have done something that tipped them off, but what?”
I wished I had a good answer for her, something that would calm her fears, but I didn’t.
“I don’t know. Maybe someone they know was passing through and saw you and thought you looked familiar. Maybe they just got lucky, like I did.”
“Bad luck for me, then,” Grace grumbled. A second later her eyes shot up to mine. “Them, I mean. Bad luck that they found me, not you. Never you. That was good luck.”
I had to smile as Grace rushed to clarify her comment. She looked cute a little flustered and I didn’t hate the fact that she wanted to be sure I knew she considered me finding her to be a good thing.
“I understand,” I assured her. “And I agree on both counts.”
We were getting close to Grace’s apartment. I signaled my turn as I glanced at her again. “What do you want to do now? Tonight? Do you feel okay going back to your apartment?”
“I...yeah, I should be okay.” Grace reached up and smoothed her hand over her ponytail absently. “Like you said, whoever that was, he didn’t show up here.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. I sat for a second, debating, then decided to go for it. “I have an idea. Feel free to shoot me down if you’re not up for it.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, shifting a little in her seat to face me.
“What if I crash on your couch for a couple nights?” I avoided looking Grace’s way and kept talking. “If I don’t, I’ll be lying awake worrying about you worrying” – and about the possibility that she’d take off, after all, if something spooked her – “and you’ll probably lie awake worrying about all the little sounds you never notice until you’re on edge.”
I paused, then when she didn’t immediately tell me to go to hell, kept going, even risking a look at her. She wasn’t looking at me like I’d lost my mind, which I took as a positive sign.
“With me on the couch downstairs, you’ll know nobody is breaking in, and we’ll both sleep better.”
She “hmm”-ed – her little thinking noise – then said, “There’s just one problem.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. Hit me.”
“If you sleep on that couch for even one night, you’ll probably never speak to me again.”
I had to laugh. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad,” she confirmed solemnly. “Don’t tell Mercy. It looks great and the matching chair is fine, but I’d rather sleep on the floor.”
No issue there.
“Done. Not you, me. I have a sleeping bag and foam pad I use when we camp. It’s comfortable enough on tree roots and rocks. It’ll be fine on your floor. So, what do you say?”
Grace chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment. “I’ll say yes under one condition.”
“Sold.”
Grace frowned at me. “You haven’t heard the condition yet.”