Grace

Thirteen

Reece

I sniff at the smokey scent. It reminds me of my own habit, and also the fact that I've got a rebellious eighteen year old living under the same roof as me that'll apparently do anything for some fucking attention.

Funny thing is, she already has it. Without even trying, my attention's all hers.

I've worked so hard to get her to talk to me since the night Leigh was rushed to the hospital.

"Reece, R-Reece," she sobbed, the sound of her shaky voice sent needles straight through my heart. My stomach dropped, and I stood from Charlotte's couch in a panic because I already knew what had happened just by the sound of her cry.

It was the call I knew was coming sooner than later, and I only hoped Grace wouldn't ever be the one delivering it.

"Gracie, what's wrong?"

She cried, but couldn't seem to speak.

"Grace, talk to me." I pulled up my jeans with one hand and let my eyes fall onto Charlotte's.

She dragged her thumb across her lip and stood up from her knees as I reached for my bundle of keys on the glass table beside the sofa.

"Mom...She's, I—"

"Okay, you don't have to say it. Just stay with her."

I flew out of Charlie's like a speeding bullet, fueled mostly by the fact that Grace needed me. That I couldn't stomach the thought of her going through that alone.

Crying like that with no one to hold her.

Without me there to hold her.

The guilt gnawed at me. I hated myself during that drive. I hated myself more then than I ever had.

And when I had arrived to find that—by some sort of miracle—Leigh was still very much alive, something changed inside of me.

A switch flipped when I saw the relief in Grace's eyes once she saw me, the feeling of her tiny body encased in my arms after she ran to me like I was safety.

Me.

A man who was once described as a danger to society before being sentenced to time behind bars.

I was a protector in her eyes and I knew that was all I ever wanted to be to her from that moment on.

My jaw flickers as I storm the hall, not stopping until my hand is tight around Gracie's bedroom doorknob.

"Grace," I bark, finding the door locked as usual. The smell is even stronger here, practically seeping through the cracks. "Grace!"

There's silence and then the knob spins in my hand before being snatched from my grip. She stands in front of me with a hard brow and a look that quite frankly pisses me the hell off.

"What."

Noticing the way the smoke seems to crawl out from behind the door, I push it open, grab her sternly by the wrist, and snatch the cigarette from her fingertips.

"I told you to cut this shit out."

She shrugs. "Whatever."

"No, not fucking whatever, Grace." I scowl at her before my eyes drop to her bare stomach. The pink sparkling jewel hanging from her navel is practically screaming at me. "And what the—when did you get that?"

She only glances down at it before looking back up at me with no indication that I'll be getting an answer from her.

"What the fuck's wrong with you these days?" I snap.