Page 48 of Grace

This is just sex. That’s what I kept telling myself.

Despite all the abuse he’d put me through, I still looked forward to having sex with him every time.

I had tried masturbation on several occasions, but it was never as good as having sex with him. Chase still remained a monster in my eyes, but I could use his body to feel good in my own skin.

“Chase,” I whispered against his mouth.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out on a date? Why didn’t you try to approach me another way? Why did you kidnap me?” I couldn’t stop the tears streaming from my eyes. I climaxed, crying.

“Because you didn’t want to notice me, Grace. You were way too smart not to avoid someone like me.”

“You couldn’t have known!” I shouted and started pounding his bare chest with my fists. “You couldn’t have known that!”

He grabbed my wrists and waited for me to calm down.

“I hate you, Chase! With all my heart!”

“Yes, I could feel it. But you know what, Grace? If this is how you hate me, I don’t give a damn about anything else in this world.”

“Fuck you!” I shoved him away and stormed into my room, hurt. I slammed the door after me… and not much later, I heard the lock click.

“In that case, it might have been a coincidence that he’s here. Maybe it has nothing to do with you.” Abigail’s voice tore me from the sticky, sweet web of the past.

“What?” I was startled and looked out the window, which had pink stickers all over. I saw the acid-green Pontiac parked next to the curb. The sight of Cyrus filled me with sweet tingling and icy fear at the same time.

He walked toward us with heavy steps. My heart beat strongly with every step.

When the golden bell chimed and he entered the shop… my world flipped upside down. We just stared at each other for a long time, because our first meeting—and the relationship it birthed—was a distorted canvas that had no colors or shapes, only raw reality.

While we got lost in each other’s eyes, Abigail quietly left the room.

“Should I help you choose, or do you know what you want?”

Cyrus knitted his brows and looked down at me sternly.

“I’m not here for flowers.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“I’d like to take you out for a hot dog.”

“Oh my gosh!”

We both looked at the storeroom, then smiled at each other.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that her hearing is that bad,” he whispered.

“Me neither.” I bit my lip, timidly.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said, pointing his thumb toward the car behind him.

Abigail seemed to pop out of thin air. “Grace is done for today. She hasn’t done what I asked her to do, anyway,” she grumbled. “Get me a hot dog too, and drop it off on your way back. I’ll be in the storeroom.”

“Okay.” I took off my apron and hung it on the coat rack, then glanced down at myself. I was still wearing the second-hand clothes I’d been given two years ago. When I needed anything else, I went to Missy’s Second-Hand Clothing Store.

We drove out to Lake Thunderbird State Park, where the place was buzzing with life. It belonged to people who loved the water—two marinas, nine boat ramps, and two swimming beaches. The green lawns were dotted with colorful umbrellas, picnic blankets, and sun-seekers. Food vendors lined the walking path.