Page 44 of Grace's Redemption

“You remember this tree Gracie.” I gestured toward the tree with the gun. I pushed her toward it. She stumbled over a rock. “Careful.”

“Fuck you Messy.” She said.

My face grew hot. She was trying to get a rise out of me. She knew I hated the nickname. Mess was okay, but Messy. I shook my head.

I poked her in the back with my gun.

She shuffled forward.

She didn’t beg like she did when we fucked, but she would. She’d beg for her life.

It wouldn’t matter.

“Answer the fucking question Gracie.”

She shot me a look over her shoulder.

“You remember the tree?” I asked again.

“No.” She looked around. “Yes.”

It was the safe tree.

After her father died, Grace had nightmares for months. She’d be screaming and crying in her sleep. Mattie and I would go into her room. Most nights she’d wake up and we’d talk until she fell asleep. Some night I held her and Mattie crawled up on the end of the bed and we’d all fall asleep.

One night she woke up, more shook up than normal.

Mattie was at a friend’s house.

“You okay Gracie?” I stand at the door. She has the covers up to her neck. Her teeth chatter. She nods, but tears fall down her face.

I walk into the room and sit next to her.

“Come on.” I pull the covers back. “I want to show you something.”

She wipes her tears with the back of her hand and scoots off the bed. I grab her shoes and a jacket out of her closet. I sit in the floor in front of her and put them on and tied them. She stares at me, wouldn’t take her eyes off of me. I love the way she looked at me.

I stand up and grab her hand and we walk down the stairs. The house is quiet. We slid out the back door and out the back fence.

I walk fast, but Grace keeps up. She squeezes my hand, maybe afraid to let go.

It is dark out here, but I know the way. The path winds through the underbrush.

As we approach the small hill, with the tree, we stop at the bottom. We both look up; the moon shines bright behind it.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand and help her up the hill.

At the top, we sit in a small nook, side by side.

I reach behind me, in an opening at the base of the tree and pull out a shoebox. I sat it on Grace's lap.

I leaned my head back. Grace laid her head back against my shoulder.

"What in it?" She runs her hand over the top of the box.

"Look." I say.