This is the last thing I want to deal with.

I took a breath and tried to calm my natural instinct of stepping up to him. Even though he was an asshole, he was still Grace’s ex, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid that might tick her off.

“Look, buddy, you’re drunk and not in your right frame of mind. Go find yourself some water.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he hissed. He obviously wasn’t going to make it easy for me. “You think you’re so amazing for banging my wife, huh?”

“Again, that word,” I remarked. “Using it rather loosely.”

“She’s been mine for fifteen years.”

“And then you let her go.”

He grimaced, running his hands over his face, and then he moved in closer and lightly shoved me in the chest. “I’m getting her back.”

“I need you to not touch me,” I warned, feeling my anger building with each second.

“I need you to not touch my girl,” he countered, annoying me more and more. Nothing about Grace belonged to that guy. He had walked away from her, and it was clear he was only coming back around because he felt threatened.

“Fine, go ahead. She’s all yours.” I turned and headed for the front door because I didn’t want to make a scene. I wasn’t going to feed into the conversation because that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to act out. He wanted me to unleash the monster he was sure lurked inside me. He wanted to prove that I was no good for Grace.

Especially in front of the whole town.

So, I walked.

I released a weighted sigh as I listened to drunk Finn follow me.

“I just want to make it clear to you that if you go anywhere near her, I’ll kick your ass!” he barked.

That actually made me laugh. Finn wasn’t a built guy, and I was certain I could take him out with one hit. “Okay, buddy, that’s fine. Now, just leave me alone.”

“Come on,” he said, racing over and shoving me from behind. “If you’re such a badass, fight me.”

I stopped my steps.

He’s not worth it.

He shoved me again.

I took a deep breath and snapped my band against my arm.

He’s not worth it.

The sooner he left me alone, the sooner Grace and I would be together, yet it was becoming more and more clear that he was really itching for a fight. He wanted to release the beast, and I didn’t want it to come out.

“You aren’t going to fight me back?” he asked, annoyance filling him up inside.

“No. I’m not.”

“Why, because you think Grace will be disappointed? You think she’d be disgusted by the monster you really are? I mean, hell, what do you think would happen? You think she’d choose you or something?” I looked at him, and for a split second, I felt my heart skip a beat. He must’ve seen the look in my eyes because he laughed out loud. “Holy shit, you actually thought she’d pick you.”

I kept quiet.

I snapped my band.

“You have nothing to offer her,” he bellowed, his words filled with hatred. “You’re the bottom of the barrel, and she’s never going to pick you, you know. You might be a summer fling for her, but you’ll never have her. She’s broken, not stupid. You’re nothing. You have nothing, you’ll never be anything. After some time passes, she’ll find her footing again without you, and you’ll still be nothing.”

“Okay. You’re right, Finn. Congratulations.”

He walked over to me and shoved me hard. “You’re nothing but scum, and we’d be better off if you were dead like your bitch of a mother.”

He spoke against my mother, and then I blacked out.

Next thing I knew, the two of us were rolling on the ballroom floor, fists flying. I slammed him into the floor, and he slugged me hard in the eye. As I rushed to get my bearings, Finn dived at me, sending me flying backward, straight into the table where the five-layer cake was sitting. It crashed to the ground, shooting frosting in all directions.

We kept hitting one another as a crowd formed and people tried to pull us apart.

He kept swinging, so I did the same, over and over again.

We were finally separated when Sheriff Camps arrived and yanked us off of each other.

Before I could even explain, he slammed us both behind bars.

Great.

That was exactly how the evening was not supposed to go.

*

Jackson

Ten Years Old

“Get out of here, freak!” Tim barked at me the first day I was back at school after Ma’s funeral. He and his friends shoved me back and forth. “Nobody wants you here!”

He kept mocking me and making fun of me, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything.

Ma was gone, and life didn’t matter anymore.

I let them push me.

I allowed them to shove.

I couldn’t feel anything anymore, anyway.

“You’re such a loser! You’re never going to have friends, you freak,” one of the guys said, tripping me as I tried to walk away.

My body slammed hard against the floor, and I groaned. As I tried to stand up, one of them kicked me down again.

I didn’t say a word.

We went to class, and Tim kept kicking the back of my chair.

“Freak, freak, freak,” he’d whispered.

I kept ignoring.

I tried to repeat what Ma would’ve told me.

I’m extraordinary. I’m extraordinary…

I didn’t want to feed into Tim because I didn’t care if he liked me anymore.

I didn’t care if anyone liked me.

I just wanted my mom back…

“I’d wished you’d disappear and never come back,” Tim hissed. “Like your stupid dead mom.”

And then, without thought, I snapped.

42

Grace

“Sheriff Camps, he doesn’t deserve to be behind bars,” I bellowed, blasting into the police station. The moment I heard about the fight breaking out and Jackson’s arrest, I headed straight to the station.

Sheriff Camps was dressed in his suit and tie from the gala as he sat behind his desk. “Yeah, well, I don’t deserve to be sitting here filling out this paperwork because it seems your two men cannot keep themselves from acting like damn monkeys in public,” he grumbled.

“Yes, but it wasn’t his fault! He did nothing wrong. And I think—”

“Time out. Which ‘he’ are we talking about?” he asked. “Which one are you here to save?”

“Jackson,” I stated matter-of-factly. “I’m here for him.”

“Good call. It seemed that Finn was the one who started the fight, which is a bit shocking.”

That wasn’t shocking to me at all. Not in the least.

“Can I go back to see them with you?”

He shook his head a bit. “I don’t know, Grace. We don’t really let people back there.”

“Sheriff Camps…it’s me. Lil’ Miss Gracelyn Mae. I just want to talk to them both, that’s all. I swear.”

He sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt any. Come on back, but don’t tell anybody I let you, all right? I don’t need people thinking I’m going soft.”

I agreed to the secret, and as he walked us to the back, I felt my heart racing. When my eyes fell upon Jackson, I gasped a bit. He was cut up and black and blue all across his face. His tie hung around his neck, and he looked so defeated.

Jesus, Finn. What were you thinking?

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Hey,” I replied.

“It seems you got yourself a get-out-of-jail-free card, buddy, thanks to this little ole lady. Be thankful, too—I would’ve kept you sit overnight.” Sherriff Camps remarked as he fumbled with his keys before unlocking Jackson’s cell.

The moment it opened, I wrapped my arms around him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but still, I shouldn’t have engaged with Finn.” His voice was so low, almost a whisper. I could tell his mind was spinning, and I hoped he wasn’t slipping too far away from me.

Stay here now, Jackson…

“I’ll meet you up front in a second, okay?” I told him, rubbing his arm. He nodded and made his way up front. I walked over to Finn’s cell. He looked up at me, his face just as beat up as Jackson’s.

“I’m guessing you’re not here to bail me out, too, huh?” he joked.

I could hardly look at him. He felt so much like a stranger to me. “You’re still drunk.”

“A little.”

“You don’t get drunk, Finn.”

“Well, maybe you aren’t the only one who’s changed a bit.” He stood and walked over to me. His hands wrapped around the bars. “What are you doing, Grace? Running around with an addict?”

Wow, he was shooting low.

“He’s clean,” I told him. “He’s been clean for years.”

“For now. I mean, look what he did to my face. I told you he was dangerous.”

“You did the same thing to him, too, Finn.”

“Yeah but…” He sighed and turned away before looking back at me. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.”

“No, I won’t because I do. We have fifteen years of history together, and I cannot stand by and watch you run into the arms of that asshole. I love you too much for that.”

“I prayed for you to say those words to me again,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I prayed for you to want me back, to come back to me, but that’s not what you wanted.”