Snatching my phone from the cupholder, I call my dad, but he doesn’t answer. I curse before calling him again. No answer. Sitting in my car, I debate on leaving his ungrateful ass, but knowing I’d probably have to return later, I get out of the car. Old ’80s rock blares from the house as I walk inside, a cloud of smoke hitting me in the face. Places like this always make me anxious. The police could show up at any time and think I’m involved with whatever bullshit is happening here.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to pick him up from a hellhole like this. I’ve made it clear to my father that he’s not to call me for bail money if he gets arrested. I blink a few times, clearing my vision, and continue walking until I arrive in the living room. A crowd of people, my dad among them, are sitting in the living room, drinking … and doing other illegal shit.
“In my car now,” I yell to my father. “You have thirty goddamn seconds to get your ass up, or you won’t have a ride home. You can stay in this dump.”
“Hey, man,” a guy sporting circular glasses cries out. “That’s fucking rude.”
I ignore the man and keep my eyes on my father.
“My son, always the buzzkill,” he says, pulling himself up from the couch with a beer in his hand. “Always tryna tell me what to do, like he’s my parent.”
“If you acted like the parent, I wouldn’t have to.” My blood pressure rises with every word that leaves my mouth.
This shit can’t happen when the baby is born.
I won’t keep enabling my father.
No more.
“You shut it,” he yells. “I was your father when no one else was there to take care of you.”
Oh fuck. Here comes the emotional drunk.
I grab the back of his shirt, jerking him forward, and push him outside. “You’re mistaken. I took care of you. Who kept food in the house? Me. Who made sure I had everything I needed for school? Me. Who paid when the landlord came knocking on the door for late rent? Me.”
He stumbles forward and turns to look at me, snarling, “You shut your mouth! I sacrificed a lot for you too.”
I point at my car. “Get your ass in there before I make you walk home.”
He screams profanities while stomping to the car and slams the door shut. When I slide into the driver’s side, I shake my head in frustration. The ride back to my apartment is quiet. He’s still crashing there, and since I’ve been so busy, I haven’t pushed the issue for him to move out. I check on him regularly, and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t been doing stupid shit inside it.
“Thanks for the ride,” he grumbles, shooting me a quick glance of what looks like … gratitude?
That’s a first.
I nod and wait until he disappears inside the apartment before fishing my phone from my pocket. My stomach twists when I see the messages, one after the other after the other. Eight texts from Grace, asking me to call her and where I am, and ten calls. Hitting her name, I put my phone on speaker and race home.
No answer.
I call again.
No answer.
I call Faith next.
“Grace!” I yell into the speaker when Faith answers. “I had to run an errand. She called and texted me a shit ton of times, and now, she’s not answering.”
“Where are you?” Faith’s voice is panicked, making me grow more alarmed alongside her.
“On my way home.” I speed around a car, hearing them blare their horn behind me, and hurriedly beat a yellow light before it turns red. I hear rustling in the background.
“She’s probably freaking out,” Faith mutters, and I’m not sure if it’s something she wanted me to hear.
“What?” I yell. “Why would she be freaking out?”
Because I’m gone?
Because I left in the middle of the night?
I know her ex was a cheater, so maybe she thinks I left to be with another woman?
Faith blows out a ragged breath. “It’s a long story. Just hurry up and get there.”
“I’m working on it,” I grind out, tightening my hold on the steering wheel.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long before I’m pulling back into the driveway. I jump out of my car and sprint toward the house. I’m yelling Grace’s name as I burst inside. Every light in the house is on, shining bright. When I turn the corner and hit the living room, I find Grace pacing back and forth. Her body is shaking, and when she turns to look at me, her face is red. Tears run down her splotchy cheeks. She’s staring at me, but her eyes are blank, vacant, as if she’s almost in a trance.
I bolt toward her and yell her name. Her hands are shaking when I grab them to stop her. She freezes, blinking at me, but doesn’t say a word. Every muscle in her body trembles as I hold her, and her crying breaks out into sobs.
Pulling her against my chest, I hold her tight. “Calm down, baby. What happened?”
“They …”
My body tightens at that one word, and I pull away.
“They came in and tried to hurt her!” she shrills, painfully staring at me before retreating backward.
“Came where?” I scope out our surroundings, searching for someone. When Grace doesn’t reply, I stalk out of the living room and down the hallway. “Are they in here? Did they leave? Did you call the goddamn cops?”
All I see is red as I charge through the house, frantically checking the kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms, closets for someone but find nothing.
Grace is muttering, “No,” under her breath as she follows me.
I whip around and snap my fingers in front of her face. She blinks at me as if struggling to process what’s happening.
“I shot them,” she rambles before hysterically repeating, “I shot them,” over and over again.
She’s hysterical. I struggle to find words. Struggle to figure out what the hell to do.
“You shot someone?” I ask, attempting to calm my voice in hopes that it’ll calm her. “Where are they?” My eyes widen. “Where the hell did you even get a gun?” My gaze stupidly darts around the room again, just in case I missed a dead body lying around here somewhere.
“Grace!”
With Grace still in my hold, I turn us to find Faith rushing into the townhome. Her hand flies to her mouth as she takes in Grace’s appearance.
“What is going on?” I scream, my voice shaking. “She said she fucking shot someone!”
Faith stumbles toward us but still remains a few inches away. “She’s having an episode.”
My heart pounds against my chest as confusion overwhelms me. “An episode?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Grace
I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch where Finn and Faith walked me to and sat me down. Finn is on his knees in front of me. My eyesight is blurry as I stare at him, fighting to focus on his gorgeous face, but it’s a struggle. He’s speaking, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I open my mouth, but no words form.
I fixate on Finn in distress. His skin is bunched around his eyes as he speaks to me. My ears are ringing, and I can’t hear him or read his lips.
I’m burning up, my body temperature feeling close to a fever. Torment overcomes me before I suddenly jerk out of my daze. When I bounce back into reality, I cringe, wishing I could sink into the cushions and disappear. As I focus on the room, those around me realize I’ve returned to the real world. Finn flings his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, shielding me.