Page 63 of Saving Grace

“I didn't need you to tell me that.” I snapped.

“Maybe you didn’t, but you do need me to tell you that you should go apologize. For the display in the alley in particular. Shift the odds of her not killing you in your favor.”

He had already made it known he didn’t approve of my behavior that day and here he was bringing up again and telling me what the fuck to do?

Again, I had to rein in my anger. I knew he was only trying to help. But how I dealt with Grace was between the two of us.

I pushed up from the chair. Balling my fist at my side.

“Don’t venture to tell me what the fuck I should— “I started but cut myself off. I took a step away from him, putting space between the two of us.

This was Tank. He had never done anything but spoke what was on his mind. No pretenses, no filter. That’s what I expected from him. What I valued in him. I couldn’t be mad at him for being him “Goodnight, Tank.” I grated out instead.

His eyes swept over me.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Tank never called by that name. It was a dig.

I made my way through the kitchen taking the stairs down to the gym, then I used the stairs there to go up to my office to avoid my unwanted guest. I thought about checking the cameras in the hallway to Grace’s room, but what Tank was saying was weighing heavily on me. I took a seat behind my desk, leaving the lights off. Maybe I should apologize to Grace, but then she hadn’t apologized to me for keeping my son away from me. When I told her I hated her? I meant it. All she had to do was trust me and stay. Both of our lives could have been so different.

It made my skin burn thinking about everything I missed. But it was also impossible to stop loving her.

Where did that leave us?

I didn’t fucking know.

I ran my hand down my neck trying to alleviate some of the tightness there.

I needed to stop thinking about it. There was nothing I could do at the moment.

I opened my laptop. I had work to do.

A camera alert sat in the middle of my screen, bring my focus back to Grace. I clicked it. I leaned back in my chair, narrowing my eyes I watched my grandfather confront her.

Something interfered with the sound keeping me from hearing what they were saying. But there was no reason for my grandfather to be talking to her alone, let alone with his goon keeping watch.

I pushed up from my seat. Took the stairs to the kitchen two at a time.

I could hear the tinkling of glasses and hearty laughter. My grandfather was always the last to leave a party. I found him still in the spot I left him. His second in command Chino was sitting across from him with a plate of menu sample items in front of him. A bottle of Jack in his hand.

Grandfather raised his glass when he saw me enter.

“You came back to drinknonno?” He slurred a few other words in Italian that caused Chino to guffaw.

I frowned, cocking my head, straight to the point I asked, "What were you and Grace speaking about earlier?”

Grandfather dropped his arm, settling his glass on the table. Chino and he exchanged a look so quickly if I blinked I wouldn’t have seen it.

Chino’s free hand shifted under his jacket. Where his holster was. That was strange… unease caused a cold sensation to dance down my spine.

Instead of answering Grandfather asked me a question of his own.

“What exactly did she tell you we talked about?”

I took a step further into the room sliding my hand into my pocket, my grandfather’s eyes followed the movement.

He gave Chino a slight head shake, as if standing him down. What in the fuck was going on?