My eyes round. I knew my father was an evil man, but I never dreamed he would do anything to hurt a grandchild of his very own. Am I naïve to think he wouldn’t hurt my baby?
Bethany shakes my shoulders, obviously seeing the doubt on my face. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but your father is involved in human trafficking. I’ve already reported everything I know to the FBI, but until it’s investigated, you and your baby are not safe, Gracie. Please believe me.”
She has no reason to lie, and even I can hear the desperation in her voice. “I promise, Bethany. I’ll protect her. My father won’t get anywhere near her... ever.”
She nods, satisfied. “Now go and be safe. Call me when you get there.”
“Come with me, Bethany. I don’t want you to deal with—"
“No, I’m staying and I’m going to buy you some time. Go to Aiden. He’ll protect you both.”
I take a deep breath. “He probably hates me.”
Aunt Bethany is shaking her head, opening the door and practically pushing me into the driver’s seat. “He loves you, and eventually he’ll understand why you did what you did.”
I nod, wiping the tears. “I love you.”
She pats my arm through the window. “I love you too, Gracie. There are things for the baby in the back seat. Enough to get you started, but I’ll come see you soon.”
“Thank you for everything.”
She backs away from the car and starts to wave. I wave back and back out of the driveway. The drive from here to Whiskey Run should take me a little less than four hours, but the time goes fast because all I can think about is Aiden. I’m worried that I’m bringing grief to his door, but I also know that I don’t have a choice. I have to protect our daughter.
Aiden
It’s another Friday night, and I’m at work. It seems that’s all I do anymore. Well, that, search for Gracie, and keep Mayor Franklin under surveillance. That’s all I’ve done for the past nine months. My head falls between my shoulders, and I try to suck in a deep breath...fuck. I still feel like I’m drowning. I lift the tattoo gun and switch it off.
“You okay, brother?” Treyton asks. He’s my best friend, and he also works at Savage Ink. I’m working on his back tattoo, something that I’ve been trying to get finished between clients for the past month. I promised him that I would get it done tonight, and I will if I can keep my mind off Gracie.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just need to stretch. Want a water?” I ask him as I stretch my arms over my head as if I really had a cramp. The truth is, when I start thinking about Gracie, my hands start to twitch. And a tattoo artist with an unsteady hand is not a good thing.
The look Treyton gives me tells me that he can see right through me. He knows how messed up I’ve been. I don’t even know why I’m acting. “I’m good, man. Take your time.”
I walk out of the room and into the breakroom, taking deep breaths. I’ve been like this since the day Gracie left Whiskey Run, and I don’t see it getting better anytime soon. It’s like I have something heavy lying on my chest, and no matter what I do to try and relieve it, it’s still there, reminding me that she’s gone... that she left me.
As if I need any fuckin’ reminders. My whole world turned black when she made the decision she didn’t want me. Treyton and Dawson think I’m crazy to react like I have over a girl I knew for a little over twenty-four hours, but I can’t explain it. I fell in love...and I fell hard. I gave her a few days to cool down, and I went to her house to find out from her father that she’d left Whiskey Run. She had her fuckin’ dad tell me she was gone and I was just supposed to be okay with it. Well, I wasn’t. I’m still not. I’ve searched everywhere for her. She left without a trace, and as far as I can tell, she hasn’t stepped foot back in Whiskey Run since the day she left. As a matter of fact, I know she hasn’t. I’ve pretty much stalked her father’s house and made a damn nuisance of myself. But I don’t care. None of that matters. Nothing matters if I don’t have Gracie.
“Aiden!” Treyton hollers from the other room. “I have a client coming in soon. Let’s get this done.”
I lift my hand in front of me, but unfortunately the tremors are still there. I shake it but know it’s not going to help. I make a fist and holler, “Be right there.”