I snort at that. “You could have fooled me.”
“Fuck you. I hate you. You ungrateful bitch.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. Her eyes narrow into tiny slits. “What have you ever given me to be grateful for?”
Pointing at me she then threatens, “Watch your mouth, Grace. Or I’ll fuck up everything today. You keep forgetting it’s me who keeps your brother with you week after week.”
I hate the fact that she’s right. Connor’s my weakness and she knows it. And she uses it. Without her once a week cooperation he can be easily taken away from me.
“Don’t ever call me, Grace.” My voice is low.
She smirks. “Maybe there’s some of me in you after all.”
“No, it’s called self respect. Something you know nothing about.”
With a sneer and a glare she finally leaves, heading towards the bathroom to clean herself up.
As soon as I hear the bathroom door open and then close only then do I allow myself to breathe.
But it’s also then that I feel the extent of my injuries.
Grabbing a hand towel that hangs from the oven I run it under lukewarm water. Taking the soaked towel I head towards my bedroom. Standing in front of my cheap over the door mirror I inspect my wounds.
It’s not the worst she has done but it’s damage nonetheless.
Her palm is as clear as day across my face and I’m afraid it will welt. Plus the scratch mark running down my face. That’s going to arise questions at work and from everyone at Vipers MC. I’ll just have to add another layer of foundation.
The tiny scratch wounds across my chest and arms will be easier to cover up. I can just wear long sleeves and a high neck shirt. At work I’ll cover it with some concealer. And I’ll make sure that Connor doesn’t have to see it. It will only upset him.
After I clean my wounds I start applying makeup to my face. In the middle of putting on my second layer of foundation I hear a knock at the door.
Glancing down at my phone I see that it’s quarter to one.
Fuck, he’s early.
Rushing through the rest of my makeup and throwing on a jacket I dash out of my room to the front door.
I zip my jacket all the way up and take one final deep breath before answering the door.
Placing a smile on my face that doesn’t feel natural at all I open the door wide to Steven standing outside.
“Grace, it’s good to see you.” There’s a smile on his face that’s more genuine than mine.
“You, too.” I lie. Opening my arm and stepping to the side I welcome him in.
Steven Alexander isn’t a bad looking man. To be fair he’s quite attractive. A man in his early thirties that doesn’t look a day over twenty-five. That has very much to do with his baby face. His face is smoother than a newborn babies bottom and his soft brown eyes are gentle. Dark brown hair is cropped nice and short around his ears and behind his neck.
And maybe if I was someone else my heart would stutter or my breath would catch.
But I only do that for one man because no one else can even compare.
He stands in the middle of our small living room. His eyes slowly making their assessment of the trailer before continuing with procedure.
I’ve never really felt inferior to anyone before. I know my worth and value. But there’s something about him that makes me feel small.
“How is college?” He asks me as his eyes finally land on me.
“Just finished my finals last week. Waiting on my test results. Fingers crossed.” I cross my fingers and laugh but he doesn’t return the favor. Great.
