Give Me Grace (Devil's Right Hand MC #5)

Chapter 2

Grace's POV
August 4th, 2002

My stomach growls so angrily it echoes through the dark night, bouncing off the empty buildings that surround my safe haven. It's been days since I ate the last piece of sandwich bread that I borrowed from the corner store.

Okay fine, I didn't exactly borrow it, but I don't think stealing is the right word, either. I didn't take the bread out of greed, I took it out of necessity. I took it because I hadn't eaten in 3 days and the money I took  from the street peddler was running dangerously low. I took that bread so I wouldn't starve to death, and I don't think that should be a crime.

The police disagree with me, though. They've picked me up more times than I can count since my arrival on these streets four months ago, but I've finally learned how to evade their detection. After hours of observation and practice, I now know the right ways to take what I need for survival. And it seems to be working, because I haven't been caught in over a month.

Four months ago, I was naive to think it would be easy to survive on the streets, but my time here has been better than the nights in that house. Sure, I have to worry about people stealing my stuff while I sleep, but that can be fixed by piling all of my valuables into a backpack and sleeping with it on my chest with my arms wrapped tightly around it. Also, I've learned it's much safer to be concealed at night than try to sleep on a bench or heaven forbid in a shelter, so I've found my little oasis under the East Street Bridge.

Let's face it, this is the safest place I've ever lived.

"Hey there good lookin'," a man whistles as I walk by him.

I don't have to look to know exactly who it is. He's a bouncer at one of the bars here and every single time he sees me he nearly begs me to fuck him. Says he'll pay me for it, too. On nights like tonight, when my stomach is so empty its painful, I let the offer linger in my mind a little longer than it should, but I always turn him down. It's not like I have much of a choice in the matter, though, because every time a man gets too close to me I get nauseous. And puking on a john is a sure way to end up dead.

"Hi, Ernie," I reply as I flash him a smile.

Even though I will never sleep with the dirty older man, I have to play nice with him. Sometimes he lets me have first dibs at the food scraps before he throws them away. That is a precious gift I can't piss away. Not when I'm already twenty pounds lighter than the old Grace. 

"You doin' anything fun tonight?" He asks with what I'm sure he believes is a charming smile.

"Oh you know," I wave, "same ole same ole."

"You know, I get off at 2am," he says with a wink.

Really? It's not like you haven't told me a million times.

"Too bad I already have plans," I lie.

"When are you going to let me take you out, Grace?" He pushes as he takes a step toward me.

I roll my eyes at his pathetic advances but I don't push him away, I can't afford to. "When are you going to give me some more food, Ernie?" I shoot back before I can bite my tongue.

"Is that all I am to you? A meal ticket." His voice comes out harsher than I expect and I take an involuntary step back.

Of course that's all you are to me, you idiot.

"Of course not, sugar," I thicken my southern accent and flash him my fakest smile. "I've just been busy is all."

He looks me up and down for a good thirty seconds and I do my best not to squirm under his gaze. "Well, then, be here tomorrow when we open and I'll make sure we have something for you."