Page 14 of Saving Grace
I crept through the house, my keys held in one hand so I could use them as a weapon if Atticus’ daddy popped up and my shirt in the other hand, pulled up over my nose.
The first room I came across, I saw Atticus, he was lying in bed, his arm slung over his eyes, snoring lightly. I breathed another sigh of relief, leaned in the door looking into the room. It looked entirely different from the rest of the place. It was clean and though the furniture was old, it looked well taken care of, it even smelled different.
I’d barely walked into the room before Atticus sat up and looked at me, he wasn’t startled or scared. It was like he knew it was me.
“Why are you here?” He snapped.
I didn’t like the tone of his voice or the fact that he was just lying-in bed while I’d been worried out of my mind— thinking the worst had happened.
“I came to check on you, asshole.” I responded with an attitude, placing my hand on my hip.
He just stared blankly at me, pissing me off.
“What?” I snapped.
“You really shouldn’t be here.” he said when he finally spoke.
“Fuck you, I’m leaving.” I turned to storm out.
“Grace,” he called, “come back, please!” I stopped, but hesitated. I couldn’t stay mad at him no matter what he did. It was a bad habit I’d been trying to break, but I guess I hadn’t yet. I turned and went back into his room.
He lifted his comforter inviting me into his bed.
I took a step towards the bed, but then thought better of it. I wanted to lay with him, but I knew he’d be in trouble if his daddy came home, “What about your daddy?” I asked.
“He won’t bother us.”
I eyed him suspiciously. The way in which he proclaimed that his father wouldn’t bother us caused the hairs on my arm to stand on end, but I ignored the feeling of apprehension. I went over and kicked off my shoes at the foot of the bed, I lay next to him. The thoughts of his daddy catching us left as quickly as they’d come when he wrapped me in his arms. I knew he’d protect me as best as he could if his daddy did come home.
“Why weren’t you in school today?” I asked with my back turned to him, we lay spooning, the heat from his body was making me hot, in more ways than one. I squirmed, eliciting a groan from him.
“Stop wiggling, Grace.”
“I’m not," I responded, trying to sound as innocent as possible. I waited for a few seconds to pass, then I pushed my ass into his lap.
“Fuck baby, you can’t keep doing that,” he hissed.
Ever since I’d caught him staring at me with lust filled eyes I’d begun teasing him purposely, hoping that he’d do something about the sexual tension that had been growing between us for the past year.
Grabbing my hips, he stilled me but pressed himself further against my ass. “You see what you’ve done?”
I bit back a moan. I liked the feel of his hardness against me.
Before I could respond, I was suddenly flipped onto my back, then he was on top of me. I stared up into the troubled grey eyes of the boy who saved me. He’d become my best friend, my family, and the only person besides my granny that I loved with all my heart. I leaned forward and kissed him like I’d been dreaming of doing since that day in Mr. Bynum’s old cabin. My heart soared when he kissed me back. He pulled back and searched my eyes.
“I love you Grace,” he said after long seconds had passed. I could feel the tears come to my eyes. We’d said we loved each other before, but this time I could feel it was different.
“I love you too Atticus, “After our confession he’d kissed me all over while removing my clothes and right there in his dirty trailer, on his old worn-out mattress I gave my virginity to Atticus the boy who would forever have my heart. He was gentle and I loved every moment of it, right after it stopped hurting that is.
When it was time for me to be heading home, he walked me to the door and kissed me so sweetly I almost cried again. “I love you Atticus,” I said before closing his raggedy screen door.
“I love you too, Grace and I’m sorry.” He closed the main door in my face before I could ask him what he was sorry about. I made a mental note to ask him the next day, but I never got the chance. At five in the morning, my granny woke me up with tears in her eyes. It was all over the news. Atticus had beat his daddy to death the day before and then turned himself in after I’d left.
My mind had flashed back to the pungent smell in the trailer and I realized it wasn’t just the dirty dishes. It had been his daddy’s body decaying. The thought sent me running to the bathroom. I threw up so long and hard my throat became sore. It didn’t take me long to figure out why Atticus had apologized to me that day.
I found out a few days later that he’d been locked up in the county jail with real criminals and not in the juvenile detention center where they put kids. That’s where I thought he’d be and that’s where I’d gone to visit. When I found out he wasn’t, I went to the regular jail and the Sheriff told me I wasn’t on his list. He must have forgotten, I thought. I went back every day for a week and every time I was denied visitation. I tried not to jump to conclusions as to why he didn’t want to see me, but I knew I would keep going back until he did.
The following Tuesday, after he’d been arrested, I went to the old courthouse because I heard he was due in court. I walked in just in time to hear him plead guilty and be sentenced to ten years in prison for killing his Daddy. His sentence was so short because everybody knew about how abusive his Father had been. But Atticus never gave an explanation about what pushed him over the edge and that pissed the prosecutor off.