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“Grace Neiman,” Gus answers.
“Grace?” I hear before I can turn around and sprint away.
It’s not Gus’s wife now standing in the door but Josie herself.
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” she asks as she reaches for me, drawing her arms back at the last minute when I flinch away.
“My mother,” Gus says when I glance back up at him.
I’m on information overload right now. The woman that my parents kept locked in a closet for over two weeks runs a sex club?
“Please, come in,” Josie urges as she takes a step back to clear the doorway. “Kaleb, look! You’ll never guess who came for a visit. You must be freezing, Grace. Can I get you something warm to drink?”
I shake my head but follow her direction to enter the home.
“I just came to—”
“Let’s get you in front of the fire. Where’s your jacket?”
“I forgot it,” I say numbly as I look over at Gus one last time.
His eyes are narrowed as if he’s trying to figure out the real purpose for my visit. Do his parents not know what he does?
I shake my head at him, trying to assure him that I won’t say a word, but it only makes him deepen his scrutiny.
“You’re just in time for Sunday breakfast,” Josie says as she smiles at me. “Diane has sent many pictures of you over the years, but I have to say, they don’t do you justice.”
The woman is a saint, but a lying one because I know I look like a train wreck, especially with stunned tears drying on my face.
“Hi,” a handsome man says as he enters, holding his hand out to me.
I shake it, grateful he immediately steps back instead of invading my space.
“I came to apologize,” I blurt, worried when Gus walks out of the room.
“Apologize?” Josie asks. “Why would you need to apologize to us?”
“For not speaking up. For letting you stay in that closet.” A sob escapes my throat. “For what my parents did to you. For the millions of times I had the opportunity to tell someone and didn’t.”
Kaleb wraps his arms around his wife, preventing her from walking closer to me. As a former detective, he must realize that being touched right now is the very last thing I could handle.
“You saved me,” Josie argues.
“Eventually,” I clarify. “Eventually, I was brave enough, but what if I didn’t? What if—”
“But you did,” Kaleb interrupts. “You did, and we’ll forever be thankful that you were so brave, Grace.”
“I’ll never forgive myself,” I confess.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Josie says, her voice filled with emotion. “Oh, honey.”
I cry harder, undeserving of her grace in this situation.
“I can see this has been eating away at you for so long.”
Josie wiggles out of her husband’s embrace and wraps her arms around me. I’m a mess of tears and sobs, just broken to my core.
“Shh,” she whispers, her hand rubbing circles on my back. “You’ve got to let all of this go. There’s nothing to forgive. We’re so grateful for you. We know you were in an impossible situation. Do you not remember helping me all that time? You brought your snacks and water. You went without so you could protect me. I never would’ve survived if it wasn’t for you. I’ve always thought of you as the bravest little girl that walked the earth. You need to see yourself the same way.”
She’s saying all the things my therapist told me when I was younger. I couldn’t accept it then, but somehow hearing it from the woman herself makes all the difference. When she pulls back from the hug and wipes the tears from my cheeks, I feel like a ten-ton weight has been lifted right off my chest.
She gives me a soft smile, and I try to return it, but the jabs of sobs haven’t fully drained away yet.
“Please forgive yourself. Just let it all go.”
I nod at her insistence.
“Do you like pancakes or waffles? Kaleb was trying to decide which one to make this morning.”
Another sob escapes on a laugh.
“I couldn’t possibly intrude on you guys any further. I’m going to—”
“You’re going to go to the bathroom and wash your face, then you’re going to have breakfast with us,” Josie insists.
“I’ll make both waffles and pancakes,” Kaleb says before heading toward what I presume is the kitchen.
“Do you need another hug?” Josie asks, her arms wide.
This time, I step into her, instead of waiting for her to come to me.
Chapter 37
Grinch
I’m feeling irrationally angry as I glare at Ugly from across the table. We’re still in Denver because it would take an apocalypse to get me to leave, and even then I’d still be looking for her.
“I knew it was a bad fucking idea,” he mutters as his fork drops to his plate of eggs and hash browns. “I never should’ve gone into that room with the two of you.”
