Page 21 of Graciously His

I look down at her open hand. “What makes you think the police will help you, Grace?”

She blinks, fear creeping into her expression again. “Give me my phone, Nate.”

I shrug and retrieve her purse from its hook in the open closet. She backs away clumsily, one foot in the house, one out. I want to reach out and steady her; instead, I watch as she fumbles with the phone, which fails to unlock. It’s dead.

“Such a pain when that happens,” I say. “I’ve got a charger, love, but it’s inside the house.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not going back in there. Give me your phone instead.”

“To call the police?” I pull it out of my back pocket. “It’s about time I followed up with Constable Tim, actually. I’ve got some evidence to share with him.”

I say the words gently. Although I am making a threat, it’s not against her. Grace needs to understand that my arrangements have included measures to keep her with me. So far, she’s only seen the carrots—the house, the dog, and me. It’s time to show her the sticks.

Her reaction is subtle, a little twitch away from the exit and towards me.

“You’ve already told the police about Mother,” she says.

“I made a preliminary report, yes. But I have further evidence of your mother’s attempts to murder you, which I haven’t shared with the police.” I meet her eyes as I scroll to Constable Tim’s name in my phone. “Even if it’s not enough to lead to a conviction, it’ll be more than enough to warrant her immediate arrest. And, without access to my dear brother’s funds, she’d have no means of hiring the type of solicitor who could keep her out of a remand cell. So,” I tap the screen, “let’s get Tim on the phone, shall we?”

“How about I report you for kidnapping and—” she looks away, clearly thinking fast, “and false imprisonment!”

“You’re imprisoned?” I look pointedly at the driveway beyond the open front door. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Grace. Say the word and we’re off. Just as soon as I make this call, of course.”

She peers outside, her shoulders hunched defensively, her bag clutched to her chest. “I trusted you, Nate. I—I called for you because I thought you’d protect me.”

I let myself take a step closer. “It’s like I told you earlier: I had to step in to ensure your mother didn’t get her hands on what is rightfully ours.”

She swipes a hand over her eyes, trying to hide her tears. As if she could ever hide anything from me.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” she says, her voice low and shaking. “If I leave, you’ll have Mother arrested for attempted murder, and then what? You’ll drown me in legal bills trying to divorce you and keep my share of the inheritance? That’s fucking blackmail.”

“It’s all any marriage is,” I murmur. I can almost feel the heat of her, even though she’s shivering in the cool night air coming through the open door. “You leave me, and I’ll do as you say; you stay, and I’ll finally do what I should have done ten years ago.”

She shakes her head with a scoff. “What, steal me away from my own wedding?”

I close the distance, my lips at her ear. “I’ll take care of you the way no one else ever has.”

“As if you even know what that means.” Grace glares, her expression mutinous. “And, what, I’m supposed to trust you after you’ve tricked me the same day my husband died? You’re a monster, Nate. And I—I’m leaving.”

She slips away, marching down the front path with false confidence and a poorly-suppressed sob.

“I’ll give Constable Tim your regards.” She turns back just as I bring the phone to my ear. I raise my brows. “Any last words you want to pass to your mother before she’s thrown in jail?”

Grace’s chest flutters in that tell-tale way I love and hate. Air hunger. Deep and terrible, making it feel as though she can never get enough of anything. Her entire life can be summed up in those terrible breaths, a sickness too deep for anyone else to see.

She swallows hard, her next breath hitching.

I’m on her before she can collapse, dropping my phone so I can catch her. She’s downright frail, yet she tries to push me away.

“Come inside, Grace.” I lock her flailing arms against her chest, forcing her to lean into me. “Just to catch your breath. You don’t have to make any choices right now.”

“You saved me from her,” she whispers, “so you could have me for yourself. And Nick is—he’s—”

“He’s dead,” I say, running a comforting hand down her back. She’s right on the threshold of where I want her, resistant yet compliant. And so, so perfect. “Now it’s time to let me take care of you.”

Grace pushes against my chest, twisting away.

I let her go. I know I have her.