Grace couldn’t stay here anymore. She had to get out of the house and find somewhere else to stay for the next few days, even if it took every precious penny she’d saved. Believing she could come back here, even for two weeks, had been an epic mistake.
She blindly grabbed clean clothes and her bathroom clutch, shoving them in her briefcase. Quiet as possible, she pulled a textbook out of the closet. Flipping to the middle, she found the little section she’d cut away to create a small cubbyhole to store her emergency cash. She always kept enough for a bus ticket out of here plus incidentals, all the while knowing that if Cindy found it, she’d take it. Having that emergency stash had been the only way she could stay at her mother’s house and not lose her mind. It had meant she wasn’t trapped there. Not really. Still, her instincts urged her toward self-preservation they clearly identified as “escape.”
Grace pocketed the small wad of cash and closed the lid, slipping the book back in place. Bracing herself, she opened her door, stepped over the broken glass and started for the front door.
“Where you goin’ all dressed to the nines?” Cindy slurred. “Finally found yourself a man to unfreeze your frigid little ass?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“Don’t disrespect me, Grace. I asked you a question.”
Grace stopped and spun. “You’re drunk. You won’t remember tomorrow what you asked me tonight any more than you’ll remember my answer, but I’ll tell you, anyway. I’m going out. Away. As far from this hellhole as I can get. And yes, a man is involved.”
Cindy laughed, the sound one of bitterness and disillusionment. “Here I was giving you flak about the man, and what do you do but admit you found someone to put up with your princess-and-the-pumpkin ideas about what happens between a man and a woman. You’re a fool, Grace. An absolute fool. You think his interest in you is gonna last? You think he’s gonna believe you’re worth the trouble once he gets to know you?” When Grace didn’t answer, Cindy snorted. “Fool.”
Chest heaving, fury climbed Grace’s spine one vertebra at a time, its vicious fingers piercing her emotional skin and leaving her bleeding. “Good night, Cindy.”
Grace slammed the front door behind her. All she wanted was peace and quiet, a place she could retreat to after work and just relax. She didn’t want to deal with her alcoholic mother. She didn’t want to be hit on by her mother’s lovers as they left Cindy’s house. She didn’t want to be afraid for one more night, didn’t want to be rejected again.
She hated her mother for stealing her joy, for finding it funny when her revolving-door lovers flirted with Grace or, worse, had come into her room to tuck her in as a child.
A hard shiver shook her. She’d started sleeping with a steak knife at eight. She’d graduated to a butcher knife by eleven. Had pulled it on a man by thirteen. Had drawn blood by fourteen. And all the while, she’d held out a kernel of hope that love could defeat the darkness in her life. Her mother might have denied it to Grace over the course of her life, but Grace had always hoped someday she’d find someone who would love her freely. Someday she’d get out of Cindy’s house and find a way to be happy. The woman was right. Grace had been a fool.
Choking on a toxic blend of loathing and self-pity, she stepped onto the 18 bus at the same time a gunshot sounded. The driver slammed the doors and started pulling away from the curb, leaving her to lurch toward the first empty seat. He drove faster than was legal, but still not fast enough for Grace.
She wanted out.
Now.