Give Me Grace(167)

“Pussy whipped,” he replied, a slight grin tipping the corners of his lips.

“You’re probably right,” I conceded, “but if it means having Grace, then I don’t really give a shit.”





Steam built up in the bathroom as the shower ran hot behind me, fogging the mirror and making it a little hard to breathe. After Casey finished checking the temperature, he turned and I used the opportunity to steal a quick kiss.

Casey ran his tongue over his bottom lip and groaned. I loved how his clear blue eyes darkened when he wanted me, as though it was impossible to focus on anything else. He slid his hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me in for another one. I opened my mouth for him. His kiss was deep and consuming, like sinking under water. I got lost in it. In him. His touch, and his taste, uncaring that I couldn’t breathe.

He broke off, pressing his forehead against mine. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” I replied, as if he hadn’t just rocked my world with a single kiss.

He nudged me into the shower. I stepped inside, careful to keep my cast from the spray despite it being wrapped securely. Casey took hold of my hips as he stepped in behind me then shut the shower door. Then he kissed me again while the steam surrounded us. After a moment, he slowed it down and took a step back.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his tone husky.

I turned obediently, splaying my hands against the shower tiles. My right arm throbbed and I knew a return visit to the doctor was in my immediate future. I think I did some real damage when I punched Morgan in the nose. It felt surprisingly good at the time. I never truly understood a man’s affinity for violence until her bone crunched beneath my fist. It was savage, and disturbing, and overwhelmingly satisfying. I kept replaying how she shot Casey and it brought back the urge to punch her all over again.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, running a soapy washcloth over my back.

I hesitated.

“Slim?” He paused.

“I keep seeing her swing that gun at you. I think it will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. She would’ve killed you without that vest,” I said, my eyes burning. I made a mental note to make him wear it every day, even if he was just going into the office or to the corner store for milk. That would be the price he’d have to pay if he decided to keep me. I still wasn’t sure if he wanted to. There hadn’t been any time to talk about our future. “I’m not a violent person. Not usually,” I added, taking past events into consideration. It seems people could be whoever they needed to be when the occasion warranted it. “But I wanted to rip all the limbs from her body.”

“I was scared too,” Casey admitted, running the washcloth over my hips and down my legs. His words surprised me because he hadn’t looked scared. He’d looked hard and cold and more vengeful than a Liam Neeson movie. “When I walked into that house, I …”

“You what?” I asked when he trailed off.

He stood up and his mouth touched the back of my neck at the same time his soapy hands slid around my waist. “I honestly didn’t know what to do. In that kind of situation you’re trained to talk the person down, but all I could see was you and I wanted to start shooting.” Casey’s breath was hot in my ear as he pressed up behind me. “Grace, I was scared because I can’t lose you. Not when I just found you. You need to talk to me because I’m scared I still might. I need to know what we’re fighting.”

He ran a slippery hand up my ribs until he cupped my breast in his palm, scraping a calloused thumb gently over the scar. “Does it hurt?”

I shivered at the touch, pressing my forehead against the cool tile. “No.”

“Good.”

“I got tested regularly because of mum. You’re at a higher risk if it runs in the family,” I explained. “So they caught it early. Initially, they thought it was benign and then I got the news it wasn’t. I threw up afterwards. What happened to my mother was happening to me,” I whispered. “My dad, Henry, the twins. How was I supposed to tell them they were about to head down the same path they thought they’d put behind them?”

Casey turned me around and I caught the flash of fear in his eyes before it was carefully banked. He was trying to be strong for me. The very thought had me swallowing around the lump in my throat.

“Is it the same path?”

I shook my head. “They said they got it all, but they want me to do a round of chemotherapy to be sure.”

Casey didn’t reply. Instead, he reached around and flicked off the taps. The air seemed quiet and still without the hot, gushing water. Reaching for the towel hanging off the shower door, he wrapped it around my shoulders and led me out.