Chapter 47 Gracie Mae
Gracie Mae
Picking my phone off the nightstand I take it off the charger. I send a quick text to Connor telling him how much I love him and to have a good day at school followed by a heart emoji.
Taking it with me I stroll out to the kitchen and decide to have a hearty breakfast made for my man when he gets back. After how he woke me up this morning, followed by all the orgasms he had given me, I say he deserves a nice home cooked breakfast. And honestly, I want to.
Rummaging through the fridge and the cupboards I grab all the essentials needed to whip up one hell of a breakfast.
I’m halfway through cooking when I hear the front door open.
Pausing what I’m doing I look down at my phone and check the time.
My brows furrow as uneasiness furls in my stomach.
There’s only three people who have a key to my home. Alice, Oak and me.
And based on the time it’s way too soon for Oak to be back from taking Connor to school.
No messages or missed calls from Alice or Snake.
Trusting my gut and knowing something is horribly wrong I immediately go to dial 911 but the call won’t go through. As steps creep closer I then try to call Oak and even send a message. But nothing goes through.
And as I look up at the top right corner of my phone I notice that the signal that always has four bars has disappeared.
No signal.
I suck in a horrifying breath as anxiety and fear try to take over my being. My heart beats at an alarming rate, almost as if it’s trying to beat itself outside of my chest.
Before I can turn and run for refuge I hear the cock of a gun followed by a dark snicker. “If I were you I’d stay exactly where you are.” His voice hits my ears like acid.
Fear, it has a funny way of showing who you really are.
And much like my entire life has been built on fear I’m no longer a prisoner to it.
And I will not return to being a prisoner to Steven Alexander. He held me in the grasp of fear for long enough.
Carefully, I turn towards him with both of my hands raised.
He looks deranged. Dark brown hair chaotically disheveled from the overuse of running fingers and greasy from days of not showering. Eyes that had always fooled and charmed anyone are wild and crazed. Clothes that have seen better days hang on his body loosely.
If I hadn’t of known him from before I wouldn’t be able to recognize him.
The gun he has stays steady on me, pointing directly at my chest. I see his finger already hovering over the trigger.
He smiles psychotically at me. “Don’t feel so powerful now, do you?”
I keep my tone nice and even, as if I’m talking to a wounded wild animal. “What are you doing here, Steven?”
He takes another threatening step closer and I instinctively take one backward. A large grin slashes across his face. “You took everything from me. Did you not think I wouldn’t come to collect?”
My eyes cut a quick glance back to my phone and I hear him snicker.
“Cell phone jammer,” he explains darkly.
I stay quiet, in hopes to keep him talking until I can form a plan until Oak comes back.
“Made it myself thanks to good old YouTube.” Fucking YouTube.
Great for makeup tutorials and home renovations but terrible for ones who are truly mad.
“So, what’s your grand plan here?” I ask him as I inch closer to the kitchen knives I have out on display.
I ask him more questions to distract him.
“You say I took everything from you but that’s not true.
Somehow you were able to post bail. There’s still a hearing.
You can possibly still walk away from this with the right lawyer.
” It’s a false sense of security I’m giving him but it’s buying me time.
I shift my feet again, finally in arms length of the knives.
He narrows his eyes at me. “You and I both know I’m not walking away from this, Grace,” he spits my name with disgust and malice.
“Okay,” I agree. “Then what do you have planned? Because if harming me is a part of your plan then you must know you’re choosing death. Oak will never let you live.”
He crosses the room with maddening steps and I back myself against the kitchen counter. My heart lurches to my throat. I feel the beating of it in my ears. “I’m not planning on walking out of this alive,” he tells me and I swear everything comes to a fucking stop.
To my own horror he pulls the trigger and it whizzes past me, grazing my arm as the bullet lands in the backsplash behind me.
And then everything changes.
Knowing that stalling will not do me any good I spring into action. I reach over and pull out a knife while he fires off another shot. This time the bullet lands in my upper shoulder. I cry out in pain and take cover by hiding behind the island.
“You could have avoided this if you had just given me what I wanted!” He bellows. He fires off another shot and it has me shaking in my crouched position. My shoulder is on fire, the pain making me feel queasy. I swallow down the bile that threatens to rise as tears fall.
Knowing I can’t stay here I suck in a shaky breath and keep myself hidden as I move along the island.
Another fire from the gun goes off and I flinch. He’s just carelessly shooting. And I don’t know if that works to my advantage or not. All I know is I have to slip by him and run for safety.
I reach the end of the island, the knife held tightly in my hand. As I see his shoe come on the other end of the island I make my quick move to the other side.
“The heroin I gave didn’t get rid of your fucking drug whore of a mother but this bullet will fucking end her whore of a daughter,” he promises darkly. His confession doesn’t come as a surprise but it doesn’t hurt any less.
Blood pools from my wound and casts like a shadow behind me. And if I think about the amount I’m losing it will send me into a panic.
“And you,” he laughs maniacally, “you could be a whore for that fucking no good biker criminal but you couldn’t give it up to me?!”
His words set a fire inside me. And the need to defend my man is strong. Which is why I can’t help but bite back, “A criminal who is a thousand times of a better man than you.”
He screams and the power of it vibrates through my body. He fires off another shot out of anger. This time he sends it in the direction of my voice.
“You’re wrong! You’re fucking wrong!” He sounds like a petulant irate child. And I realize that’s all Steven ever was. I was the only one he never had gotten his way with. And like a child who is denied their favorite toy they rebel by kicking and screaming.
And while I don’t know how many bullets are left in his chamber, if I keep provoking him he’ll continue to waste his bullets.
It’s an irrational and fucking risky plan but it’s the only one I have when I’m wounded with only a knife to protect me.
“You aren’t a man at all, Steven!” I goad him and I hear him scream in frustration. “You’re a child. A fucking child who can’t accept that he lost.”
“No!” He wildly fires off two more shots in different directions.
“You’re pathetic,” I seethe. “You had to force yourself upon women because no woman in her right mind would want a sick fuck like you.”
Two more shots ring out and they echo in my chest. I try not to rattle as I hear him pacing back and forth on the other side of the island. “I’ll show you fucking sick when I get my hands on you. Maybe I’ll fuck you while I’m blowing your fucking brains out!”
Bile presses at the back of my mouth and I have to swallow it down. The knife I hold in my hand shakes as my body trembles. Adrenaline seems to be running out and I feel how tired my body has become. It’s the crash that I’m afraid will be the end of me.
Rising from my position I book it to the front door. I know I will be no match against him physically. My knife against his gun will lose every time. I’m not as capable as Haven and I’m not as skilled as Alice. But I am sensible enough to run for safety.
I run as fast as my short and tired legs can carry me. And I hear him heavy on my heels. I know he won’t kill me when his plans have changed. And I’ll fucking kill myself before I ever let that man defile me.
Just as I open the front door with the sun blinding me a shot rings out and lands in my calf. It brings me down face first on the blacktop driveway.
The rough texture of the concrete causes an abrasion along my cheek and chin. When the air hits it, it stings.
Grimacing, I pull myself up, grabbing my knife, and limp towards the end of the driveway. My leg drags behind me, feeling like dead weight.
My hair gets pulled from behind me and my head snaps back. Bleary eyes meet crazed ones. He dislodges the knife easily from my scathed hand. And as I thrash and kick about he drags me back inside the house, all while I’m screaming for bloody murder.
Kicking open the door he throws me inside and I land on my side.
Pain vibrates all up and down my body but I refuse to let it consume me.
Gritting my teeth, howling in pain, I begin to pick myself back off the floor.
But a shoe to my chest slams me back down.
It knocks the wind out of me and I’m momentarily stunned.
Before I can think to get back up Steven straddles me.
He presses the gun to my temple while he sneers down at me. “You ruined my life.”
“You did it yourself,” I manage to spit back at him with as much venom as I can muster.
With all his weight on top of me and all the severe injuries I’ve gained I can’t buck him off of me. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. Tears blur my line of vision.
My mom had always said that all my fighting would leave me dead.
I never once thought that to be true.
But now I can’t escape the threat of death.
“Don’t cry, Grace,” he hushes me in a lulling voice that provides no soothing. “I’m finally going to get what I want and then we will both be free.”
With the cold metal of the gun still pressed to my head he removes his hand around my throat and trails it down my body tauntingly.
Acid climbs up my throat as I feel myself about to become sick.
Blood continues to pool from my shoulder and calf. Excruciating pain sends shocks like voltages all through my bloodstream.
And as his fingers brush against my entrance there’s a small part of me that dies.
There’s a victories smug smile on his face that I want to slash off.
And the anger is what I hold onto. Not the pain.
Not the sorrow. It’s the anger that has me seeing red and turning feral.
It’s the anger that gives me all the strength I have left to bite down on his forearm until the taste of metallic floods my mouth.
He releases the gun against my head, wrenching his arm back for protection.
I reach for the gun the same time that he does.
We both scramble for the gun. It’s a fight for survival and we both know it.
“Stop fighting you fucking bitch,” he bites between clenched teeth. His hand comes down and whacks me powerfully across the face. “Let me have what I fucking want.” Darkness creeps in my line of vision. God, my head feels too fucking heavy.
I hate how this is going to be my end. The last image I’ll ever see is him and I fucking hate it. The last thing I’ll ever feel is him. The last words I’ll ever hear is his.
And as much as I want to fight him off I can’t physically move. There’s a dark pull that I can no longer resist. And I’m drifting to the dark abyss where the pain no longer exists.
My breathing becomes shallow, blood fills my mouth.
So this is it. All the battles I’ve fought, all the fighting I’ve done in my life and it’s ending with me dead.
God, mom was right. She was fucking right.
No. I refuse it. This can’t be it.
While he’s too focused on beating down on me my fingers search aimlessly for the gun. And then sweet euphoria sweeps through me as my fingers brush over the handle.
When he lands another blow to my head my fingers grasp the handle. The gun feels extremely heavy in my hand but I find it within myself to lift it up.
With the darkness crowding my vision I won’t be able to make a fair shot but that doesn’t matter. As long as the shot lands somewhere on him.
Too lost in his rage he sees the gun a little too late. I fire of the shot without second thought but nothing releases from the chamber.
Fuck.
He used all the bullets.
His dark laughter fills my ears but it feels so distant.
All I’m left with is my failure.
“You’re mine now bitch.” Hands rove over my body and this time I can’t hold back the vomit.
Somewhere, in what feels like the great distance I hear the roar of a motorcycle before it comes to a crashing stop.
And maybe I’ve slipped into my subconscious. A place where I imagine Oak has come for me. Where he’ll whisk me away in his big strong arms and kiss all the wounds away.
It has to be it because I swear I hear the thunder of his voice calling my name with a roar of panic and urgency.
At least I’ll be granted this. To hearing his voice before I slip away completely.
Suddenly pressure lifts off me. Hands leave my body and I suck in a trembling breath of air that burns.
Something breaks in the background. Distinctively I can hear the crunching of bones followed by the roar of primal screams. And then one final shot goes off and I hear the splatter of what I can only assume to be brain matter smack against the wall.
Familiar and loving hands that tremble press against my cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he says brokenly. “I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks. And I want nothing more than to soothe him but I can’t seem to find my voice.
He’s here. He’s really here.
I feel myself being lifted in his arms before he cradles me to his chest. There’s a rocking sensation as his lips press tenderly to my forehead.
“Talk to me, Grace,” he pleads. I feel something wet hit my face.
“Come on, baby. Open your eyes and please say something.” His body shudders.
“I love you, Grace. Fight and open those beautiful eyes for me.” His voice cracks.
Lifting the heavy weight of my eyes I pry them open. Oak’s icy blue eyes are the only things I see, but they’re filled with the greatest amount of pain I’ve ever seen.
“Good girl. That’s my girl. Come on now, baby. You have to stay fighting for me. You can’t leave me, Grace. You can’t. I love you. Please. . .”
I want to tell him how much I love him back. I want to assure him that I’ll never stop fighting but there’s just too much pulling me back. I can feel the darkness swallowing me whole. And the last thing I see is Oak’s tear stained face before my eyes close.