Domestic Bliss

08.

Here's the fucking thing that pisses me off about the world. Like, every time life gets good, there's some fucking asshole, just waiting around a corner to destroy your happiness. Grace had it worse than most, though - her asshole didn't hide behind corners, but lived in her fucking house.

After breakfast, Fezco dropped her off at the end of her street. Grace insisted on it, knowing her mother would give her hell for staying out all night and didn't need a boy added to the mix. Her father would hopefully already be at work and Nate at school. She had texted him after talking to Jayden and asked him to cover for her, to say she had spent the night at Cassie's.

She knew nothing pleasant awaited her inside the house, but she still couldn't stop smiling as she unlocked the door. No one greeted her and she let out a breath of relief. She took her shoes off and realized she was still wearing Fezco's hoodie. It gave her excuse to see him again and that thought alone made her grin stretch wider.

She walked to the staircase, hoping to sneak into her room before her mom noticed her return.

"Grace."

She froze.

"Come here," commanded her father from the kitchen. Grace swallowed thickly, her feet frozen on the spot. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She drew in a shallow breath, steeled her nerves, and wearily stepped into the kitchen.

He sat at the furthest end of the table, looking at his hands, loosely clasped as if in prayer.

"Where were you?" he asked, not lifting his eyes.

"I slept over at Cassie's... She's visiting McKay over the weekend and wanted to have a girl night. She's like super nervous and I-"

"Stop lying."

"-thought Nate told you, 'cuz I texted him-"

"STOP LYING!"

He banged his hands against the table and Grace flinched violently. Their eyes locked and she felt all air leave the room, leaving her alone with her father's rage. It was a live thing, his rage - live and red and pulsing. He rose, kicking over the chair behind him, and advanced toward her.

It took two of his long strides for Grace's training to kick in, her left hand coiling into a tight fist. It took another two strides for her to remember she was helpless, because, yeah, she could probably drop him, but once he got up, he'd hit her harder.

And then he was in front of her, so close she could smell his breath. Her stomach lurched and all she could suddenly think was don't throw up on him.

He reached for her and every muscle in her body tensed, prepared to take the beating that never came - instead, he pressed her against his chest, engulfing her in a tight hug. "We worried," he mumbled against her hair. A wave of trembles overtook her and she waited, stiff as a board, for him to release her. When he did, he held her firmly at arms length and looked at her face. "I love you Gracie, and I worry. Look how you make me lose composure," he chuckled and she joined him shakily.