Page 74 of Saving Grace

I dragged her back crying and screaming. She told him right to his face, right in front of me and all my men that she didn’t love him anymore—and even as she begged for him to let her go— he had stood over her with tears in his eyes —pleading for her to stay. It was embarrassing.

He was pathetic. He needed a reason to be a man. I had the nigger she’d been laid up with dragged in behind her. I saw a glimpse of my son then, the rage in his eyes when he realized she’d left him for another man was beautiful.”

He actually smiled as if he could see the moment playing out in his head.

“You should have seen the look on his face. Your father had always been vain. Before her he’d always had women throwing themselves at him because of how he looked and who he was. He was none of that anymore. He’d become a fat, drunk hillbilly all because of her and that ungrateful bitch left him, for a nigger. The envy in his eyes had been clear. I thought I had my son back when he made her watch while he slit the nigger’s throat.

After that she’d cursed him. Even then your father had begged her to love him. He openly sobbed, right there in front of me. I was disgusted and ready to kill them both myself, then you came from the back room, rubbing sleep from your eyes. I knew who you were immediately, and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t even had the fucking decency to call and tell me I had a grandchild.” He jabbed two wrinkled fingers into his chest.

“Your daddy had yelled for you to go back into your room before you caught sight of her —but not before I saw those eyes, not just your eyes, everything, you looked like all the men before you, but you were still a bastardo, born from a common whore my son had taken from a strip club.

She saw you too, but didn’t care, instead—she begged him to kill her, claimed she couldn’t live without her man. Enraged, he shot her in the head, it took him a few seconds to realize he’d actually pulled the trigger and then I watched him fall apart.

I told him to save a bullet for you, that I would help him once he’d put you both behind him, but he yelled for me to leave.

That night I watched the little bit of light he’d had left leave him as he sat there cradling her body and crying. At that moment I realized my son was gone. Your father was weak and I couldn’t help him. I washed my hands of him.”

He shook his head and studied my face while I tried to process what he’d just told me, but before I could respond even attempt to unbox it all, he continued.

“I thought when you killed him, you were more like me than him. I had people watching you in prison, testing you. Then this one came along,” he nodded towards Tank.

"I saw you were more like him than I wanted. I didn’t need a repeat of that all over again, so I washed my hands of you too, until Vince’s son—"

“So, you were there the night my mother died. The reason she died.” I interrupted. Grandfather had told the story of how an associates son, Vince had recognized me as his kin just by seeing my eyes a million times. I didn’t have the patience for a repeat.

“I was.” he nodded.

I frowned. “That is part of the story your son didn’t tell me.” I sat in the chair across from him, right next to Tank. I tapped my gun against my leg.

“You knew?” He looked more amused by my revelation than surprised.

“Why do you think I killed him?” That was the first time I’d ever spoken aloud about that night.

"He’d got drunk and told me he would do the same to Grace as he had done to my mother, in gory details, but he’d left you out. I guess he felt some type of loyalty to you or just didn’t want to explain why you were there. Neither one of us will find out until we get to hell. You sooner than me, maybe you can send me back the answer through smoke signal or something.”

“So, what now?” Grandfather rasped.

His eyes fell to the gun in my hand.

“You’re going to kill me? Reign over my stolen family?” He scoffed condescendingly but a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and his eyes darted around room. There would be no one to save him.

“No, I’m not going to kill you. That would create too much mayhem, power struggles.” I slid my hand inside my jacket, pulling out a pair of gloves and slid them on my hands, with leather clad finger, I pulled out the one thing that would put an end to all my grandfather’s destruction. I waved the needle at him. “Potassium chloride. You’re going to die of a heart attack. All the stress from an assassination attempt. One small sting and we all get to breathe easier.”

I drove my point home with an order. “Tank and Chino, hold him.” I was about to spend hours going back and forth with him. Grace would wake up in the safe house pissed off and I still had to deal with Sophia before I made my way back to explain everything to her.

“You can’t do this to me.” He slashed his hand through the air as if just the command was enough to stop what was about to happen.

“I got it.” Tank said. He moved from the chair to behind the desk faster than any man his size should be able. Grandfather didn’t even get a chance to react. Tank moved behind him, with both hands on his shoulder and kept him pinned to the chair.

The gravity of what was about to happen shown in his face. Despair filed his eyes. Fright turned his skin pale white. He said nothing more. His eyes were stuck on the needle.

Pushing myself up from the chair. I separated space between us.

He finally found his voice when I stood over him, ready to lull him into a forever sleep.

“Please, let me at least say goodbye to my son.” I could hear the desperation in his shaky, wobbly words.

I bent to his ear. So only he could hear me. Tank didn't know about what he’d done to Grace and would not know unless she decided to tell him.