Saving Grace

37

Icy air bit through the thin jacket, frosted over my tender skin and seeped into my soul. With my teeth chattering and body trembling, I huddled further under my jacket, forced my legs to keep moving and my feet to keep me upright on that godforsaken road. A soft, flickering glow appeared on the horizon – an old neon sign, blinking into the night: The Locus Raddison Hotel. I sucked in a painful breath, shuddered. At least I knew where I was going.

Through an unoiled gate, I ducked around the back. The stench of chlorine and fresh paint clogged up my nostrils, wafting out from behind the taped off swimming pool, under construction. I looked up, followed the blue cobblestone pavement to the two glass doors. An old woman was inside, sitting in an old armchair, reading by the yellow lamplight. I sighed, flopped down at the edge of the pool. I'd have to wait for her to go; I couldn't let anyone see me sneak in.

With my head in my hands, I listened to the stillness of the hotel. The wind had died off, leaving a crippling silence that Grace quickly filled. Oh God. What had I done? She was in so much danger – from Russo, from Godric. And I'd let her go. I pulled out my phone, dialled her number, heard it ring until it hung up. So I dialled again, and again, and again. The phone rang, the answering machine sounded.

"Grace..." I begged. "Grace, please pick up. Just for a second. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just need to know you're okay, I need to know..." I breathed, felt my eyes fill up. The phone beeped, hung up. I looked down at the stupid thing.

"Fuck!"

The phone slammed down into the empty pool, shattered on the hard bottom. I whimpered, clutched my chest as the tears streamed down my face. How could I have done this – to her, to me, to everything? I'd ruined everything.

A minute passed and my breathing slowed. The tears subsided. My hands stopped shaking. What had I said to her? Don't call me when he fucking finds you? I looked down at my shattered phone and realised that even she did, she couldn't reach me. So, I wiped my face with my sleeve, jumped down into the pool, and pieced the mobile back together. The screen had suffered another crack, but everything else fit together and it lit up without a hitch.

I climbed out of the empty pool and headed up the cobblestone pavement, where I saw the old lady had headed off to bed. The glass door opened easily, and I slipped inside undetected. Everything hurt. My chest, my ribs, my jaw. So, as I wandered up the staircase, looking for somewhere to crash, I dialled Grace's number again – and again, and again, and again. I kept the phone pressed to my ear until I reached the top floor. And then a remarkable thing happened – somewhere in the dusty, poorly lit, stained hallway, I heard her ringtone. Its digital shrill pierced through the wooden door and spilled outwards, causing my chest to squeeze tightly and my palms to sweat. I followed the sound down the yellow hall to the very last door, and hung up. The sound stopped. I sucked in a deep breath.

"Grace," I murmured, knocking on the sanded wood. "Is that you? Are you in there?"

Silence, still and eroding like oceans against fragile rock, seeped out and curled around my timid body.

"Grace," I said, knocking again. "I'm so sorry. I just... I need to know you're okay. I need to know..."

I slumped down, back to the plywood. My fingers sunk into the prickly carpet. A sob escaped me before I could stop it.

"What do you want me to say, Grace?" I asked. "Because I'll say anything. I will do anything. Just let me in. Let me see you." I wiped my eyes, sucked in a shaky breath. "Damn it, you're the only one who's ever made me feel like this – so goddamn stupid, so heartbroken, so... so helpless. You just... do something to me. And no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly it hurts, I can't shake you. You're in my veins, Grace. You're..." I pressed my lips together. "I love you so much it's killing me. And I'm going to fucking die if you don't open this door."

I waited – God knows I waited – and eventually, that door opened, and Grace stood on the other side of it. Dishevelled, I scrambled to my feet, looked down into her beautiful eyes. She shook her head at me, as if she couldn't believe I was there.

Then she kissed me.

Hard and fast; crushed her lips against mine, clung to me with her fingers in my hair and the taste of black smoke and vanilla on her tongue. I squeezed my eyes shut, eyelashes damp against my tender skin. What was happening? Was this real? She leaned into me, slid her hand down my neck, fingers splayed on my chest. Her hot breath brushed against my lips as she tilted her head and pulled me in again. Oh, God this was real. This was very, very real. With trembling hands, I reached up, cupped her beautiful face in my hands and felt her rapid heartbeat pulsate under my fingertips. She balled my shirt in her fists and pulled me into the room, where the door slammed shut and I was utterly consumed by her tender kiss.

© A.G. Travers 2018