Page 78 of Saving Grace

Grace and Tank rushed in. Tank caught Sophia midair as she lunged for me. Wrapping his arms around her waist he swung her like a ragdoll in the opposite direction. I hadn’t even noticed her move. Bending at the waist I laughed harder.

I saw Tank’s lips move but didn’t hear what he said as he pulled her towards the door. My heart was beating in my ears drowning out the sound, even that coming from my own mouth

Grace came forward, bringing the scent of strawberries and coconut oil with her. Her hand came up to touch my cheek.

"Why are you crying Atticus?" she glided the pad of her thumb over my skin.

I frowned.

I was laughing.

She cut her eyes to the door.

"What did she say to you?"

I was confused. I wasn’t crying, I was laughing. Wasn’t I?

I raised my hand, to touch my own cheek. My fingers were met with wetness.

I was crying. Laughter had turned to tears.

"What’s wrong, Atticus.” Grace asked again. Her tone frantic.

I had to really think about her question, then it came to me. The numbness was gone. It had been there since the night I'd killed my father and it was suddenly gone.

“It’s nothing,” I said instead of bringing up the past.

She gave me an odd look but changed the subject.

“You don’t have to send Sophia away because of me. Tori and you may not think so now, but she needs her mother.”

I frowned. Sophia had barely spoken to Tori since she’d been back, never really spoke about her when she was gone.

Grace had to stop being such a bleeding heart.

“Would you feel the same way if you knew she was responsible for your car accident? Her two brothers and she planned the entire thing. She was hoping you died.”

The way her face contorted I knew I had put an end to the sympathy Grace had for Sophia.

Epilogue

seven years in the future.

Grace.

Gionni smirked. “I’ve fucked both your wives so many times I’ve tattooed my name on their pussy right beside yours,” he taunted foolishly. “Now, how does it feel knowing all that and you can’t kill me?”

I watched as all human emotion drained from Atticus’ face. His mouth moved. He must have whispered the words because I couldn’t hear them.

Whatever his response was, it caused fear to widen Gionni’s eyes.

Atticus raised his gun.

Gionni raised his trembling hands in surrender, taking a step back.

“My uncle will kill yo —” Whatever else he was going to say never left his mouth as an explosion that sounded like lightning pierced the air.

My breath hitched.