The Murderer's Daughter

Chapter One

Caution: Warning for those reading, this chapter may include graphic information or scenes. 

Grace's eyes widened as she stared at the letter in her hand. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew this day was coming, but she'd just hoped it wouldn't. Her name was spelled out in her father's lazy cursive, barely eligible. She bit her lip, torn between throwing it away and reading it.

She tossed it on her counter in her small apartment and pressed play on her answering machine. She would have gotten rid of the small machine a long time ago, but she didn't like giving her cell number out to parents of the kids she taught. She made that mistake once.

She barely listened to her answering machine, registering the voices over the phone and deciding if they were important or not. She moved to her kitchen and grabbed out some food for dinner.

"Grace?" His deep voice always gave her goosebumps.

She stopped, the pan she'd been grabbing out of her cabinet pausing in midair. She stared in wonder at the machine, convinced she was dreaming of his voice like she had so many nights before.

"It's me, Montgomery. Dad got a letter in the mail for you and I told him I'd bring it over so I wanted to call you and let you know that I was going to stop by tonight. I'm not sure what time I'll be done at the office but I'm guessing I'll be there around...six or eight. If you aren't home, I'll just leave it with Henry. See ya."

Grace frowned. She glanced at the clock on her stove and saw that it was five thirty. She resumed cooking, her hands already beginning their usual process of her Friday night dinner. Her mind was on Montgomery. Dad had a letter, why couldn't he just bring it over himself.? It wasn't like she lived hours away from them. She was just in the next town over, about a thirty to forty-minute drive. Part of her was hoping that Montgomery just wanted to see her, but she knew better than that.

He'd taught her that lesson a long time ago. She'd tried to move on from him...from West, but her heart belonged solely to them and she knew that they'd always have it...even if they didn't want it. She'd tried for so long to move on from them, but Henry had deserved better. She flinched, remembering the anger and pain in Henry's eyes when she'd broken up with him. She'd thought she was ready to get married, but seeing her younger sister go after the men she wanted changed something inside of Grace.

Grace's thoughts were cut off when a hand went over her mouth and she was shoved over her counter, the box of noodles in her hand falling to the floor.

~

Montgomery frowned at Grace's apartment building. He hadn't seen her in three months, not since the debacle with Rose. He'd wondered how she was, what she was doing, if she was okay. Lately, she was always on his mind. Not that thinking about her was anything new. He'd always think about her, always imagine her being next to him, loving him. He knew they could never be together-but he also knew he could never forget about her. She consumed him.

He walked into the building and started the four story trek up to her apartment. The elevator was out of service.

He was grateful that his father had gotten the letter when he'd been there. It gave Montgomery a reason to go see her. Not that he needed a reason now that she'd been adopted into his family. He'd needed a reason himself. He'd stayed at his office finding busy work for himself, working far past the time he'd given her.

He got to the third floor and walked to her apartment door. He raised his knuckles to knock and gently rapped on her door. The door squeaked open an inch.

"Grace?" He said into the crack of the door. His gently pushed the door open with is palm and he stopped.

Her apartment was a mess. A lamp was laying on the carpet broken in pieces. A box of noodles was scattered along her linoleum floor by her counter. Burnt food drifted to his nose. A couple stools lining her small bar were upended and laying on the floor. He cautiously stepped into her apartment, looking around for her. He was scared, his heart frozen in his chest with worry for her.

"Gracie?" He hollered, walking over the broken lamp and around the stools towards the two back doors.

No reply.

"Grace? Where are you?" He thundered, his voice loud and strong.

He glanced into her bathroom. Nothing except a pair of white panties on the floor and a white bra over the shower curtain pole. Her bathroom was small enough that a toilet, sink, and shower took up most of the space, leaving only a small rectangle available that was covered with a blue shower rug.

He moved from the bathroom to her bedroom door. His heart thundering in his chest. He grabbed her door knob and twisted. His heart fell out of his chest.

Grace lay bloody and bruised in her bed, her clothing ripped around her. She stared up at the ceiling, unseeing...unhearing. He walked to her, gently.

"Grace." He whispered, his voice full of restrained emotion. "Gracie, It's Monty."

She continued staring up at the ceiling. He grabbed the blanket from the yellow chair to his left. He didn't want to scare her.

He moved to her, kneeling down beside the bed. "Gracie, can you look at me?"

She moved her head towards him. Her face pale and bruised, her lips crusted with blood. She didn't recognize him, the shock had set in.

"Grace, I'm going to put this blanket around you and pick you up. I'm going to take you to the emergency room." He said, standing up and covering her naked body with the blanket. He bent down to grab her and jerked back as she started fighting him.

"Don't touch me." She cried, staring up at him.

"Grace, honey. Let me get you to the hospital. You need the hospital." He said, holding his hands up. "I'd never hurt you."

She stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. Her body was weak from fighting, from being used. He knew she knew he'd never hurt her. He'd kill himself before he'd ever hurt her. He'd kill whoever hurt her.

"I'm going to pick you up, Grace. I'm not going to hurt you." He murmured, bending down to pick her up. His arms going beneath her knees and head. He brought her close to his chest, her head resting over his heart. He turned around and walked out of the apartment.

An elderly man walking up the steps stopped when he saw Montgomery walk out of Grace's apartment with her in his arms. He kept walking, looking at the man.

"Call 911 and tell them there's been a rape. That the victim is on her way to the hospital and give them her address." He said, his voice choking on the words.

He looked down at Grace. Her eyes closed and her body tight. He knew she was in pain, knew that being in his arms was terrifying for her after enduring what she'd just endured, but she couldn't walk and damn, if he was going to let her.