Gramma pushed to her feet when she saw me, and I swore, I could hear all of her joints groaning as she did, my rock wringing her hands together in the worry she’d clearly been swimming in since I’d walked out the door earlier. “Well? Tell me how it went.”
Disappointment throbbed everywhere, as if I could feel my heartbeat in my face and my fingers and my toes.
I inched into the room.
She gasped and pressed her fingertips to her weathered face when she saw my appearance. “Oh my, child . . . what on God’s green earth happened to you?”
Instantly, her face went red with anger.
“Tell me he didn’t get to you.” She limped my way, hostile rage pulsing free. If I was looking for an army, the old woman was an entire fleet.
She’d had her own share of battles and wars, and she might be broken down, but she was stronger for it. I hadn’t hesitated when I’d shown up at her door asking her to be strong for me four months ago.
“I swear on all things holy that I’m not gonna let him get away with it. I’ll string him up so fast he won’t know what hit him.”
The last had become a rumbled threat.
Blowing out a breath, I tossed my clutch to the couch and pulled off the teardrop earrings she’d let me borrow. As if looking pretty was gonna make a lick of difference. “You know he has better ways of getting at me than making me bleed.”
Well, at least not the parts that were exposed.
“Then what happened to you?” She searched my face with her blue, aged eyes.
I shook my head. “I fell.”
Her brow rose, digging for more, knowing there was a whole lot more to the story than I was letting on.
My grandmother knew me better than anyone.
I huffed out a breath of concession and let my shoulders sag. “Reed was there. I took off the second I saw him. Just as I was getting to my car, I felt someone behind me. I started running, afraid it might be him.”
Except, I hadn’t really thought that, had I? It was that energy zapping like electricity through the air that had sent me running for my life. The feeling that if that stranger got too close, he was going to trip me up, have me falling into something that my shattered heart would never survive.
Oh, and trip I had.
Worry had her gnawing at the inside of her lip. “Did Reed see you there?”
Sinking down on the edge of the loveseat, I bent over into a huddle and started rocking, like that motion might keep all the pieces together. “No. I don’t think so, but I’m sure it’s gonna get back to him that I was there.”
Or more importantly, what I was there sniffing around for.
I looked up at her. “It was stupid going there. I knew better. Should have known he’d show up to an event like that. What in the world was I thinking?”
She moved to cup the side of my face.
There were few people as tender and fierce as my grandmother. So staunch and understanding.
The woman had held me up in my darkest times, and she also didn’t hesitate to knock some sense into me when I was being crazy.
She brushed her thumb across my cheek. “You went there because you’re brave enough to show your face. Making a claim that you’re willing to do whatever it takes to fight that monster. That he doesn’t scare you and you aren’t going to back down.”
A puff of discouragement blew from my nose. “And the second I saw him, I went running.”
She grinned. “Galas aren’t meant to be battlegrounds. You were gathering ammunition. It wasn’t time for the attack.”
A grin played around my face.
Only my grandma.
She lifted my chin higher, forcing me to look at her. “And believe me, sweet one, this is a battle that will be worth fighting. It’s one worth getting torn up over. One that’s worth every bullet and every scar. One you’ll fight to the bitter end.”
I stared up at her, hope a blister of energy glowing firm in my chest. Pulsing and pushing. “I won’t stop, either, Gramma. Even if it costs me everything, I won’t stop.”
“That’s right. Because the important things in life are worth everything. Everyone’s fight is different. But believe me, it’s always a fight. And we fight for what’s most important to us.”
Fear and hope swung like a pendulum inside me.
“But what if I lose?” I could barely choke out the question, the idea of it something I couldn’t entertain.
“You won’t, sweet thing, I promise, you won’t.”
“I’m scared,” I told her, my admission floating into the dense, brittle air. I didn’t want to confess it. To put it out into the atmosphere.
I wanted to cling to her belief in me. Cling to the idea that I was brave and a fighter.