Page 6 of Saving Grace
“Don’t start!” I tried to give him my best don’t fuck with me expression, but he ignored my warning. He lumbered into the room and sat his big ass down in the too small office chair that sat in front of my desk. Me threatening Tank never worked simply because he wasn’t afraid of me like everybody else who worked for me was.
He jerked his head towards the door. “So that was her?”
“That was her.” I replied blandly, not exactly sure why I was feeding into his foolishness.
He nodded appreciatively before continuing. “She’s gorgeous, the pictures didn’t do her justice.”
I kept my eyes on the papers in front of me. I didn’t want to talk to him about her; I didn’t want to talk to anybody about her.
He reached over and snatched the papers away.
I snapped, “Why the fuck did you do that.”
“I said she’s gorgeous. What do you say in return?” His grin grew, as did my annoyance.
I exhaled a frustrated breath. “If you were anybody else I’d cut off your fucking hand for snatching something from me.” I threatened.
He furrowed his brow. “I’d kill before you had a chance to even pull your blade.” He laughed.
He was one of the few men who would behave so audaciously towards me. I allowed him to because he was the closet I would get to having a brother.
Still, the thought of shooting him just to get him to shut up crossed my mind. Non-fatal of course— in the shoulder or hand, so he’d have to go to the hospital to get stitched up and leave me the fuck alone.
He waited for me to acknowledge his compliment. A few seconds of silence stretched between us before I relented.
“I know she is. Now can you leave me the fuck be!”
“No, I will not. Because you need a reality check. I don’t see a woman like that sticking around after she finds out your current situation. And what about your grandfather?”
I waved him off. “What my grandfather thinks doesn’t matter. He'll be fine as long as he gets what he wants from me. I’ll run his empire. As for Grace, she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” I responded.
He tapped at the desk, drawing my eyes to meet his. “I’m not so sure this situation with your grandfather will go over as easily as you hope. It will blow up in your face, but when it does... just know I have your back. You’ll be all right either way. But let me get the other part of what you said straight. You plan to pull your cave dweller — grunting and growling, you’re mine bullshit on a Black woman?”
He shook his head. “Oh man, you’re fucked.
I watched his head loll backwards as he laughed at me.
“Get out of my office,” I gritted out, annoyed that he was probably right, but bringing up shit I didn’t want to think about.
He held up a thick finger. “One last question. He paused and cocked his head. “Should I wear black or white to your funeral?” He teased me.
He ducked. The coffee cup I threw at him shattered against the wall “Shut up and get the fuck out of my office.”
Throwing up his hands in surrender, he choked out “Ok, ok I’m going.” Standing, he turned to leave, his laughter trailing him out of the room.
Veronica/Grace
My drive home was done purely on instinct, my mind was in a daze.
It had been twelve years since I’d seen Atticus and I never thought I’d see him again, not after watching him calmly walk out of my life.
But what I really couldn’t wrap my head around was the fact that my Atticus was Roman. I had heard some pretty disturbing and violent stories about Roman and his family. Things that I didn’t even want to think about at that moment. Things I could never imagine Atticus doing. Not the old Atticus at least, but I could see that he was different now. Harder. More broken inside than before but better at concealing his pain.
Back when I met him he’d been a scarred, crooked tooth boy,weighed down by poverty and abuse.
I could still vividly remember the day we’d met, to the day he saved me.
The sky had been clear on the lake that day. The temperature was murky and humid. It was too hot to be sitting around outside, so I was pretty much alone. I preferred it like that. I’d stayed until the sun was kissing the mid sky—lost in the book I was reading —one of the Baby- Sitters Club books maybe.