Page 87 of Grace

“I’m only fifteen,” I whispered with my eyes closed.

He kissed a tear from my face and whispered over my slightly parted lips, “I’m sorry.”

When he was finished, he washed me and led me back to my prison.

He changed the sheets and carefully placed the teddy bear in the middle of the bed.

…

The memory makes me shiver.

Tears fill my eyes and anger blossoms in my chest. All my questions have been answered—I never saw my parents again. Of course, things changed between us as the days turned into weeks, weeks into months, then years. I didn’t forget my parents, my best friend, or my siblings. I could still recall the streets, the school’s oval courtyard, the old gate, the crowded corridors. I could even hear Mrs. McLaren’s voice as I rummaged through my memories.

Mr. Miller found me in my dreams. I was having nightmares and I found comfort in Chase’s arms when I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I hid under the blanket, crying, trembling. Chase stormed in and jumped on the bed.

“No!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Leave me alone!”

“Grace, it’s me. Grace.”

He pulled the blanket off me and shook me gently. My hair clung to my tear-soaked face, and sweat dampened my thin nightclothes in patches. My terrified eyes scanned the dark room. Shadows chased one another until I came to my senses. Chase cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“He was here. He was here…” I whispered hoarsely. Fat tears fell onto his hand.

“No one is here, Grace. You’re safe.”

I broke into sobs and clenched my fists. I pounded weakly, clumsily against Chase’s bare chest. He didn’t slap me or pin my hands down. Instead, he gathered me into his arms and pulled me onto his lap. He rocked me as if I were a crying child and he was my mother. Then he kissed me. His kiss soothed the ache in my body and soul. Sunlight poured into my mind, and my nose filled with the scent of summer. It was warm and peaceful. The magic of our first kiss silenced the rebellion in my heart.

Chase wasn’t demanding or forceful. His tongue slowly found its way into my mouth, and when it met mine, they began a slow, intoxicating dance. The heat of the kiss made me forget everything. His touch burned me. His fingers traced the familiar arches and curves of my young body as if in worship.

Chase let his full weight settle over me. His hot skin pressed against mine. His heart was racing, just like mine. This was the first time I had given myself to him willingly. He entered me carefully and moved his hips gently. He was in love, making love to me. And deep underground, far from the world’s expectations and judgments, I did what I had longed to do when I was free. I cast aside all my pride and shame, because now I had to live by a different set of rules. The code I had always held myself to was gone.

I didn’t have to keep myself away from him. I didn’t have to be afraid of people judging me for it. The future I had once imagined—the one filled with colors, flowers, dreams, and ambitions—had sunk into a deep well. The girl who used to ride her bike through the streets of Willow Creek, carefree and smiling, was fading. The earlier colorful image of the future I used to pursue had disappeared.

I opened my heart and let his in. I tasted his lips, thirsted for his kiss, my fingers dancing over him, searching, touching. At that moment, I wanted everything that was Chase Baker. I moved my hips against the dirty bedsheet, looking for even more pleasure. My hard nipples pressed against his chiseled torso. I was lost in Chase’s dark whirlpool—it pulled me under, held me there, and didn’t release me until I climaxed. His silent touches and the soft brush of his lips made my womb clench and grow heavy. His thrusts hurt less because my desire welcomed him with liquid warmth. I was close to climax—my orgasm stalked me, panting at my neck. Chase’s hot breath caressed my damp skin. My release took over and spread through my body like wildfire.

I opened my eyes warily. I was afraid to look into Chase Baker’s eyes, because my body had just betrayed what my heart felt. As soon as the wonderful feeling faded, I faded with it, too.

I hated him, and I hated myself. I hated what was between us. I hated the day Nikky had dragged me along with her. Because that day, my fate was sealed.

…

I grab the ugly object. It makes an eerie sound, as if I were walking on dry leaves. My heart starts racing. I press two fingers beneath the teddy bear’s navy-blue suit and claw out… dry petals. Their crumbled remains fall into my lap. I keep searching the plush toy, which has been cut open, the cotton stuffing removed. It has been filled with dried petals—and a piece of paper. I unfold the note with trembling hands.

You are mine, Grace.

You know it very well.

“I know,” I reply to the handwritten note. As the ceiling fan sends warm air through my hair, I suddenly shiver because another memory surges through me, sending a hot wave through my body and awakening an aching desire between my legs. It’s insistent, warm, sweet.

Just like honey.

Just like me.

Chase’s chiseled body was moving above me—his soft lips closed around my nipples, and his dark eyes were glistening as he looked at me. His eyes told me I was the most important thing in the world. And when our gazes met, he pressed a gentle kiss to my fingertips as his hot release spilled onto the cold concrete beneath me.

I close my eyes and recall that dark room. I recall him. And the desire—the feeling—that kept growing inside me as time went on. I yearned for him, for his kiss, his touch, his body, and the pleasure he gave me.

I gently bite my lip and recall the moment he entered the room bare-chested, his jeans hanging low on his hips. After I had told him to go fuck himself.