This is what I wanted.
I wanted Raide to turn himself in. I wanted him not to kill Dean.
I got what I wanted.
So why the hell does it hurt so bad?
*
“Oh, honey,” Mom says as soon as I step through the front door. “I was beside myself.”
She wraps her arms around me, but her hug feels cold. I know she’s worried, I know she loves me, but she’s not the comfort I need right now. I’m holding it all together, but I’m only just hanging on. One more word about Raide and this situation, and I might not be able to hold on any longer. I let her hug me for a long moment before pulling back and forcing a smile. “I’m just going to go and lie down. I’m exhausted.”
“Of course. I’ve made up your old room.”
I nod, giving Dad one more look before disappearing down the hall. I go into my old room and see she’s really done it up for comfort. I’m grateful for that. My old double bed is covered in my favorite purple comforter. There are soft, fluffy pillows stacked neatly on top. The window is open and a soft breeze blows through. I kick off my shoes, then I strip down to my bra and panties and crawl into the bed.
I close my eyes and fight against my hurt.
It’s the only way to get through this.
I have to be strong for Raide.
Chapter Thirty
I don’t wake until early evening. My entire body aches like I’ve just finished running a marathon. I force myself to sit up and I crawl out of bed. My legs feel like lead balloons as I walk to my bathroom. I freshen up, change into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank, and then head out toward the sounds of chattering voices. I step into the living room to see my family all eating in front of the television.
My chest clenches.
I feel so outcast, so different, so horribly alone.
“Hey, baby,” Dad says, putting his food aside and standing. “We weren’t sure if you were going to be up in time for dinner. There’s some in the fridge for you to heat up if you’re hungry.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
He reaches out and cups my cheek. “You okay?”
I shrug.
“Come and sit down, watch television with us.”
Riveting.
I walk over and drop down into the empty space beside him.
Gretchen is next to me, and instead of making her usual smart-ass remark, she hands me a can of soda. “Your favorite. I can’t drink it all.”
I stare at it, then up at her, and I can see she’s making an effort. She never makes an effort, so I take it and whisper, “Thanks.”
“I love the color of your hair!” Stacy says, making conversation.
“Ah, thanks.”
“Did you dye it recently?” Mom pipes up.
I know what they’re doing and I appreciate it, I really do, but it’s not necessary. “You don’t have to do this,” I say to them. “I’m okay. It’s fine.”
“It’s nice to have you here,” Mom says gently.
I smile. “It’s nice to be here.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some food? It’s your favorite.”
I glance at Gretchen’s plate and see it is, in fact, my favorite. Chicken and mushroom carbonara. My mom might be a beauty queen at heart, but she can cook. My stomach twists and I figure I should eat something. I push off the couch and force a happy smile. “I think I’ll go heat mine up.”
Mom beams and that alone makes the effort worth it. I pad into the kitchen and open the fridge. I pull out the carbonara and use a fork to put some into a bowl. Then I put it into the microwave and lean my hip against the counter while it’s cooking. When it’s done, I rejoin the family on the couch. They’re watching some mindless fashion show, so I zone out and just eat.
When a break comes on, I hear a news report and my entire body stiffens. “The search for suspected murderer Raide Knox has come to a close today, with the police making a final arrest. It was speculated that Raide was with a woman when he was arrested. They’ve been looking for him for quite some time now, after he skipped bail. It is said he is the suspect in the case surrounding the death of his sister, Kelly Knox. We’ll have more information later in the evening.”
My heart lurches, and suddenly the food in my stomach feels like it’s going to rise up my throat and pour out. I put my bowl down and stand quickly, struggling for air as pain radiates through my heart. “Sweetheart,” Dad says, but his voice is no more than a blur in my mind.
“It’s fine,” I croak, turning and rushing down the hall and back to my room.
When I get in, I collapse onto my bed and take a few calming breaths. They know nothing, and yet his name is all over the news. I swallow down the bile that’s threatening to rise in my throat as I struggle to calm my emotions. I’m still curled into a tight ball when a soft knock comes at my door. I don’t answer. I don’t want to move.
“Grace, honey, you have a visitor.”
I don’t want a visitor. My door creaks open but I don’t look up.
“Grace?” Vance.