Page 4 of Saving Grace

She snatched them from my hand. “You’re a liar,” she accused.

I took my pointer finger and used it to tap her forehead. “Think Grace, don’t be so fucking oblivious, so naïve. You’ve been played. You don’t know who the fuck you married. But you do know me. I’m a lot of fucking things, but a liar isn’t one of them.” I was seething. The old Grace would have known I would never lie to her, not about that. I would never take from her what she didn’t willingly offer.

Her face softened a bit, but her eyes remained conflicted. “But he said—” She stopped herself mid-sentence and chewed at her bottom lip nervously before saying, “it doesn’t matter what he said.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “Why does he owe you so much money? He won’t tell me, maybe you will.”

I hesitated. I had two options. I could outright explain to her what my business with her husband was. If I did that, I’d have to tell her I’d sold him drugs, whores and had lent him a considerable amount of money to blow on both and gambling. By doing that I’d be confessing my own sins to her and her wrath would probably be directed at me. People were infamous for killing the messenger.

Or I could keep my mouth shut, like a coward. And without much thought I knew I’d take the coward’s way out.

I was terrified of her response to my new life. Would Grace be able to love the new me if she knew the truth? Everything in me screamedno!Especially after she found out I’d played a major part in the demise of her marriage.

Was I ashamed of what I had become? No, I did what I had to do to survive. Grace obviously understood survival. I could see it in her eyes that something about her was different now, something bad had happened to her. Something traumatizing, and it had changed her. She was harder, more guarded.

Later, I promised myself that I’d find out what it was, and bring hell to whoever had hurt her, but right then we had her husband to deal with.

“Ask him.”

“Ugh,” she yelled out in frustration.

“Why do I have to ask him? Why can’t you just tell me?”

I dropped my head.

“How the fuck did you become this person Atticus?”

“It’s just as long as your story.” I replied simply, raising both my shoulders in a shrug.

“I’ve got time,” she crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, clearly waiting for me to explain.

I wouldn’t. Not now, maybe never.

“It’s none of your business and there are more pressing matters to discuss.” I responded.

Like your lying snake of a husband.

“And if I’d rather discuss with you?” She responded with a raised eyebrow.

It wasn’t going to happen. Long seconds passed before she threw her hands up in frustration.

“Fuck it.” She turned and stomped off towards her car.

I called after her. “We need to figure out how to fix the mess your husband has made, Grace. Before it gets out of hand.” I’d hate for her to be caught in the middle of what could become a very deadly situation without knowing why. He’d kept her in the dark about who he really was for far too long. I couldn’t do the same. But he’d be the one to confess his own sins to her.

“Not now, I’ll come back tomorrow. I just can't be with you, right now. I need to unbox all of this,” she threw over her shoulder.

Anybody else I wouldn’t have allowed to tell me what they were and weren’t going to do, but I let her go. I could tell by the tone of her voice nothing constructive would come from making her stay. She was in her feelings. I’d wait. I knew where she lived, worked, and who her so-called friends were. If she didn’t come back on her own, I’d personally go get her.

First thing, I needed to speak to her husband.

I stayed there watching as she drove off towards her home. I was already anticipating the next time we’d meet.

When I stepped back into the restaurant, everybody was pretending to be hard at work. But Uffe, better known as ‘Tank, ’was standing in the middle of the restaurant waiting for me with a shit eating grin on his face. His white polo and True Religion jeans made him look out of place in the upscale Italian restaurant, but he refused to wear a suit.

“Shut up,” I warned as I approached him, cutting off the jokes and comments I knew were coming before he could get started and piss me off. I was already annoyed with the fact that he knew everything about my past with Grace.

He’d been there when I found out the woman I was about to make a widower was my Grace.