4. Grace
4
GRACE
B y four p.m. that afternoon, I was walking into the Hart of Hope House, the shelter that Dillon had tirelessly built from the ground up.
As soon as I entered the waiting area, I felt like I was home. The place always gave me a sense of peace and hope, not only for myself but for the women who came through here. I’d never been prouder of my brother for opening a hideaway for battered women. He’d gotten the idea when he’d been roaming the streets of Boston looking for me.
I’d spent many days here, but with my studies and work, I hadn’t been helping out as much as I would like to. I always found sharing my stories with guests here was far better than any advice from a therapist.
Soft spa-type music filtered out of the speakers overhead. A fountain in the corner opposite the welcome desk flashed through different-colored lighting every few seconds as the water trickled down into the well.
Norma, Dillon’s dedicated assistant, who’d been with him since the beginning, played with her lip ring as she typed on her laptop at the front desk. “I’ll be right with you,” she said without looking away from her screen.
“It’s me, Norma. Is my friend Andie here?”
Fallyn had called Duke to let him know that Andie had been released from the hospital over an hour ago and Fallyn had dropped her off at the shelter while I was in front of a judge.
Norma regarded me with a warm expression. “Grace, you’re okay, although you look like crap.”
The bruising beneath my eyes wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. “Thanks. It's been a day.”
She grabbed the cross on her necklace. “Dillon told me what you did for Andie. I know you’re in trouble for it, but I would’ve hurt that asshole too.”
“I appreciate that.” Of course, Carl Dixon’s dad, Judge Dixon, wouldn't agree.
My arraignment had been canceled because Judge Dixon wanted to settle the matter out of court. According to Kelton, the judge didn’t want the attention. Not only was his reputation at stake, but so was his son’s. Carl Dixon aspired to be a politician one day, and any whiff of scandal, like him raping a girl, wouldn’t bode well for his future career.
Like I gave a shit. Carl should’ve thought about that before he drugged Andie’s drink. Test results showed that she had a high amount of Rohypnol in her system.
“Is Duke with you?” Her soft voice drew me out of my haze. “Dillon is hoping to chat with him.”
“He had to pick up Emma from the babysitter.”
She grinned. “That little button has certainly tamed Duke, huh?”
My fifteen-month-old niece, who had wild brown curls and big brown eyes, was the sun, moon, and stars in Duke’s world.
“For sure.” I stabbed a thumb at the door with the sign Employees and Registered Guests Only. “Is Andie in a room?”
“Sela is with her in room four.”
A whoosh of anxiety-filled air left my lungs. Sela was a psychologist and worked at the shelter part-time. Any chance I got, I picked her brain whenever questions came up during my studies in sociology that I couldn’t find the answers to or if I needed a doctor’s opinion on the topic at hand.
My stomach tightened as I pushed in the door to the hub of the shelter, not sure what I would say to Andie or what to expect from her end. If she was anything like me after I’d first been raped, she would be cowering in a corner. But Andie hadn’t been awake during the incident.
Dillon strode toward me as I stood outside room four. His expression was as blank as an empty canvas, which was normal for any of my brothers.
“Norma said you were here.” He threw his arms around me. “Care to tell me what happened?”
“Nope.”
Easing away, he lifted a dark eyebrow. “Grace?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. “Duke has already given me his two cents. I don’t need any more.”
He waved his hand at the empty room across from Andie’s. “Sela is still talking to Andie, and I don’t want you to interrupt, and I want to talk to you.”
Dillon often counseled his clients and had a way of breaking through to them. But I wasn’t here to get advice. However, I stomped into the room he’d indicated like a child who hadn’t gotten her way. If I protested, he would call a family meeting or set up an intervention, like he had a few times on my behalf, and right now, I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I only wanted to see Andie.
Threading his fingers through his dark hair, he leaned against the doorjamb and studied me. I sensed words on his tongue, but his mouth wasn’t moving. I knew my brother was rehearsing what to say. He always considered others’ feelings before he spoke. Unlike Duke, who went for the jugular without warning.
I crossed my arms over my chest and rested against the footboard of one of the twin beds. “Well, I’m waiting for your wisdom.”
He held up his hands. “I don’t have any, sis. To be honest, I probably would’ve killed the boy.”
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Ted tells me you were asking questions about Miguel Rivera. Ted thinks you’re spooked over something that might have happened to you recently. He mentioned you were blaming yourself that she died. Who died, Grace? Did you interfere in a squabble between a pimp and his lady?”
I picked at my pesky hangnail that I had yet to yank out. I didn’t want to talk about Thea. I’d been living with the guilt of her death since I’d found her in the back seat of John’s SUV. I was the one who should’ve died that day. Not sweet Thea.
“I haven’t trolled the streets of Boston in a long time. If you must know, seeing that asshole about to rape Andie gave me a flashback of—” I shook my head, unable to bring myself to talk about Thea. “Can you give me some space? I promise the only thing I’m guilty of is shooting the frat boy.”
He closed the distance between us and grabbed the sides of my shoulders. “I am here for you. Just promise me that you will come to me if you need help or need to talk.” He gave me a peck on the forehead. “I love you, sis. I worry about you every day.”
“That’s just it, Dillon. I hate that you, Duke, and Denim worry about me.”
My brothers had been in my face for far too long. While I understood they needed to protect me, I couldn’t keep living under their thumbs. Sure, I gave them reasons to be concerned, but part of their constant anxiety when it came to me was the guilt they harbored about leaving me with an alcoholic father. As a result, I had found my way into sex trafficking.
The latter was my doing, not theirs. So many times, I’d thought about how I should’ve done this or that or even stayed with my dad. But I didn’t have a magic wand to change the past, even though for every step forward, I felt like I was taking ten steps backward.
“Duke has an ulcer because of me,” I added.
Dillon eased away, chuckling. “Duke’s ulcer stems from his days as a criminal more so than because of you. So don’t take on that guilt.”
I wasn’t any better than my brothers. I, too, had anxiety about their well-being, especially Duke’s. When he’d run his illegal arms empire, I couldn’t sleep well knowing he could’ve been killed at any moment. Even though he was on the straight and narrow, there was a chance that one of his former enemies could seek revenge against him. Maybe one of them was stalking me. Then something equally rattling hit me, and I stiffened, biting my bottom lip.
“What is it?” Dillon asked. “You have that light-bulb moment in your eyes.”
“Did Duke tell you Brian is moving back?”
My teenage crush. He was a man who had graced my dreams more times than I could count. I loved seeing him any chance I had, and now that he was moving back to Boston, I was both excited and a tad apprehensive. In my mind, his return could mean he was going back to his criminal days of working for the cartel.
He bobbed his head. “Yeah, do you think that’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t know. Fran worries that her dad might regress. Apparently, he’s dumped a lot of his cash into the restaurant, but he hasn’t made the money back. What if he?—”
“He wouldn’t.” Dillon scrubbed a hand along his chin. “Duke would stop him from taking up his drug empire again. Duke won’t let Brian fuck up his life. Nor would Duke ruin his own, not with a wife and kid.”
“You’re probably right. Still, I can’t help but think Duke will have Brian’s back no matter what.”
“It’s not for us to worry about. And you have enough on your plate. Though…” He smiled broadly. “Do you still have a crush on Brian?”
I nearly choked. “Where did that come from?”
Dillon was the only one who knew my secret, but we weren’t discussing my love life.
“Talking about him sparked a memory,” Dillon said, settling beside me.
“You never told Duke, right?”
I had first met Brian when Duke brought him home one day. I was twelve at the time, and I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on Brian. At nineteen, Brian was charming, handsome, and cool, and when he told me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, I’d gotten all warm and gooey inside.
“Of course not. You told me that in confidence. Besides, it’s none of Duke’s business who you like.”
I regarded Dillon like he had lost his mind. “Duke would argue otherwise. Besides, Brian would never see me as anything other than a little girl.”
“Maybe not. But he wouldn’t dare break the bond between him and Duke,” Dillon added. “It’s an unspoken rule between best friends.”
I laughed, knowing Dillon was right.
“You and Dominic have had an on-again, off-again relationship, but are you completely done?”
Dillon was the only brother I could confide in about my love life or lack thereof.
“Yeah, he’s always been more of a friend-brother-type guy. And he has a steady girl now.”
Dillon grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You’ll find that person to fall in love with. Someone who will treat you like gold, delicate and gentle. And if it turns out to be Brian, then so be it.”
I rested my head on his shoulders. “Dom treated me with gentleness.”
“Sure,” he said. “But he came into your life at your lowest moment and when you needed help the most. He was more of a crutch and someone you could lean on because you were too frightened to ask for help from me and Duke.”
He didn’t bring up Denim because our brother had been behind bars on a murder rap at the time.
“I was embarrassed, mostly that you and Duke would look at me differently, and you both did. I don’t mean that badly, but Dom was an unbiased person, and I needed someone like him who was levelheaded to help me put Miguel Rivera behind bars.”
Growling, he draped an arm around me. “I still want to strangle that motherfucker for kidnapping Maggie in exchange for you.”
I shivered at the memory of what had gone down that day. I’d been ready to give myself up to Miguel so Maggie wouldn’t suffer on my behalf.
“Ted assures me Miguel is still behind bars, so he can’t touch anyone,” I said.
“Speaking of bars, it will kill me to see you in jail.”
Anxiety gripped my insides at the thought of my potential incarceration, and I didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Do you think Brian would treat me well? You know him.” I held my breath, even though I didn’t need approval from any of my brothers, but I would feel better knowing they supported me.
“He would treat you well. He’s a good soul, Grace. Does that mean he’s the right one? That’s only for you to decide. But Brian won’t break that bro code with Duke.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me,” I said with a laugh, albeit a nervous one.
“Always the fighter,” Dillon added. “That’s what I love about you. But be careful. Your heart is more sensitive than a fist to the face. And when was the last time you let someone in?”
“Never. But didn’t you have a thing for Maggie as a teenager? Look how that turned out. You two are happily married.”
“I’m not saying don’t try. I’m just saying to protect your heart in the process.”
“I’m so happy I can talk to you. I could never have a conversation like this with Duke or Denim. for different reasons of course.”
He chuckled. “Duke is a stone wall and sees nothing but his guilt over you. Denim, well, he would say the same as me.”
“Yeah, but Denim doesn’t like to talk about feely things.”
Dillon let out a hearty laugh. “He doesn’t, does he?”
I shuddered in a comfortable way, feeling less stressed, which I always did after talking to Dillon. “Not to change the subject, but how’s Andie?”
“Shaken up. She doesn’t remember much. Don’t you have that nail polish I gave you that detects if a drink has been roofied?”
Dillon kept a large supply of the nail polish and sent girls home with it when they were discharged from the shelter.
“I gave it to Andie and a few other girls in our dorm,” I said. “Andie has worn it, but I can’t remember if she had it on this time.”
“She didn’t.”
The creak of a door made me perk up.
Sela, a short, demure woman with a serious look on her pretty made-up face, eyed Dillon and me as she came out of Andie’s room, smoothing hands down her pencil-style skirt. “Andie needs rest, but she’s been asking for you, Grace.”
I brushed past Sela as she asked Dillon if they could chat.
Andie’s blue eyes were drowning in tears when I walked in. Her skin was ashen, and she appeared as though she’d been through a windstorm, with her red hair wild around her face.
I wanted to squeeze her into the tightest hug I could but was afraid that I would shatter alongside her into a million pieces. It was bad enough my heart felt like it was racing and not beating at the same time.
Instead, I inched over to the empty twin bed, words escaping me for the moment.
Silence dropped like a heavy blanket as Andie gazed at her lap.
“I’m here for you,” I said in a low voice.
She flew off her bed and into my arms, nearly tackling me. “I’m so grateful for you. Thank you.”
I wrapped my arms around her trembling body. “I’m so fucking sorry you went through that.”
She cried as I rubbed her back.
“I got you,” I said.
She sniffled against my neck. “I owe you my life.”
“No, you don’t.”
She regarded me as though I’d lost my mind. “You shot him for me.”
“I would do it again.”
She climbed off me and curled her legs underneath her. “Are you in a lot of trouble?”
“That doesn’t matter, Andie.” I sat up and smoothed a hand over her frizzy hair. “You matter.”
Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I don’t remember much, except him dragging me upstairs. I don’t even remember going into a bedroom. I hate myself.”
“Whoa! You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I did, Grace. Lettie in our dorm, the girl with the dyed-purple hair, warned me about the Omega House. She freaking warned me not to go to that party. Apparently, a friend of hers in her economics class was roofied in the fall at Omega’s first party of the year.” She examined her nails. “I didn’t wear the nail polish you gave me. I forgot to put it on.”
Anger churned in my gut. “This is not your fault.” I scooted closer to her. “Look at me.”
She raised her watery gaze.
“Carl Dixon is the one who will atone for this. He’s at fault. He’s the monster. Not you.”
She pulled on a thread along the seam of her jeans. “The rape test didn’t show any semen. Did he penetrate me, though?”
“No, I shot him before he had a chance.”
She sighed. “I feel numb, Grace. I don’t know how to process all this. Tell me how. You’ve been through worse. How did you deal?”
I’d shared with her that I’d been a victim of sex trafficking. Those last two words conveyed enough for people to understand that I was raped repeatedly without me having to give details.
I rubbed my hands along her arms. “You know I still have issues. You’ve woken up to me screaming from my nightmares.”
She flicked her fingers under her runny nose. “Aside from that, you’re normal. You seem to have life by the balls.”
I chuckled. “I don’t, Andie. I struggle with my demons every day.” I was so grateful she didn’t recall anything after Carl had dragged her upstairs. “Working at the shelter has helped me, but I’m still broken.”
I didn’t want to be, and with my past still present, I was worried I wouldn’t have a future.
Anger colored her guilt for the moment. “I want to cut off his dick. Even though I didn’t see him on top of me, I feel filthy and violated. He needs to feel the same way.”
She wasn’t getting an argument out of me. Sadly, there wasn’t a way to make that asshole feel like he was the one who’d been raped.
But maybe hurting him where it mattered would give him a wake-up call.