Page 57 of Saving Grace

Atticus looked down at my hand, his brow creased. He knew I was about to say something he wouldn’t like because when he brought his eyes back up to mine, Roman was staring back, the big bad mobster.

He’d been in a mood for a few days, ever since I’d shown him yet another negative pregnancy test.

He thought that at the rate he was fucking me for nearly a month, I should have been pregnant and I probably would have if not for his wife slipping me birth control pills. I’d been taking them religiously. I knew if I did become pregnant, there would no way I'd ever get away from Atticus again.

“Why would you make plans to send my son anywhere without talking to me first?” I asked, keeping my voice low. He was getting out of hand. Making decision for me and my son.

The look of hurt on his face almost made me feel bad, but then it morphed into a sneer, twisting his handsome features. “Your son? Without your permission? You selfish bitch. You should feel blessed by the fact that I’m even telling you.”

My head snapped back.

Had he really just called me out of my name?

I saw red.

Reaching out and gripping his arm, I pulled him into the alleyway between two buildings. The voices from the crowd disappeared. The shadows hid us.

I got right up in his face.

My hand connected with his cheek before I could think better of it.

The echo from the sound of his hand connecting with mine was more startling than the sting.

I raised my hand to my cheek.

He’d hit me back.

I blinked stunned. But then was I really? Atticus had been growing more volatile since the phone call I wouldn’t tell him about.

I made a fist, raised it, ready to put all my weight and strength into hitting him back. He reacted before I could.

He was quick and light on his feet. In one swift motion he bodily collided with me. I yelped on impact, my back hitting the brick wall behind me. Atticus hand found my throat, locking his fingers around it, stealing my breath and my fight away.

He was so much taller than me, his hold forced me up onto my tiptoes. Black dots clouded my vision as involuntary tears raced down my cheeks. I didn’t fight because I knew it was futile. I also knew Atticus wasn’t going to actually hurt me. He was trying to scare me. I hoped.

His breathing was heavy but his voice calm as he asked me. “Why do you continue to test my patience?” It was an obviously rhetorical question because he continued without giving me a chance to answer. “You’d think after running away from me and stealing seven years of my child’s life from me —you’d be less combative. But no. At every turn you undermine me. Then there’s the secrecy. The strange phone calls. Telling me you had to leave but not telling me why.”

He paused.

“Do you still not want to tell me why, Grace?”

Despite feeling lightheaded I shook my head no.

I could only trust myself with protecting my son. I was told keeping my mouth shut was the way to do that, so I was keeping my mouth shut.

I pursed my lips together, remaining silent.

He chuckled harshly, letting my throat go. I choked on the air that rushed into my lungs. I tried to get my breathing under control as I waited for him to remove his weight from against me. He didn’t. He obviously had things he wanted to get off his chest and he wanted to make sure I heard them.

He stayed right in my face as he spoke.

“You know what I just figured out, Grace? You are not taking my threats or demands seriously because you still see the old Atticus in me. It’s my fault. I keep slipping back into acting and pretending to be him because you always wanted him, was always honest with him.” He frantically ranted “You loved him unconditionally. The new me wants that too. The new me loves you just as much as the old me and doesn’t want you to see me as the monster you’re try to make me out to be.”

I closed my eyes. His yelling was causing a tension headache to build in my neck.

“Look at me, Grace.”

He grabbed my chin, he squeezed forcing my eyes back open.