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“We did the right thing,” I repeat to myself. And if I say it a few more times, I might start believing it’s fucking true.
I manage four days sleeping in the same bed as Julian without anything happening between us. He’s being understanding, but I can feel his frustration growing and I know that something is going to have to happen soon. I pretend to be asleep when he wakes up, and wait until I hear the front door shut and his car pull away before I chance opening my eyes.
The more time I spend away from Brax, the worse things seem to get. I’m at breaking point, I haven’t even left the house since I’ve been back. Maybe I’m hoping that he’ll come back for me.
Julian has kept me wrapped up in cotton wool, catering to my every need and ensuring I have everything I want. He even took a few days off work to be here for me. He’s insistent that the sooner I move on and sell up this place, the better I’ll feel. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need to start afresh.
I’m relieved he decided to go into work today because while he’s been staying here, he’s constantly tried motivating me. He thinks that clearing out Dad's wardrobe and selling his car is gonna make me feel better. And that packing up Mom's office and donating some of her books to the church library is going to cure me of my heartache. I want to scream at him that none of that is gonna bring them back, but at the same time I really hope that Julian's right. If I get away from here, I might start to get over them. And Brax.
But I don’t even know if getting over him is what I want.
I miss him.
I miss the way he looks at me like he can’t figure me out. I miss the way he fucks me in the morning, but most of all, I miss the way I feel when I’m with him.
I understand why Ella and Maddy have sacrificed so much to be with their men, because right now, I’d give up all I have just to see him one more time. I dream at night about him coming and taking me again, this time promising me that he’ll keep me.
I get out of bed and shower, determined not to spend another day moping around. I dress in my own clothes and style my hair the way I used to, and when I stare into the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door, Grace Scott has returned. I practice a fake smile through the reflection, before making my way downstairs and out of the house. Slipping into my car, I don’t have to adjust any mirrors or move the seat, and I drive into town taking the same route to work that I used to before he came into my life, turned it upside down, and shook it senseless.
I park my car outside my father’s office, and do one last check in the visor mirror. I’m still me, the Grace I was before Brax took me, but I feel wiser now, my eyes seem to have gained maturity. And the world around me has changed too. This doesn’t feel like my reality anymore, not now that I know monsters can lurk in plain sight. That they smile at you when you pass them on the street, they take care of you when you're sick, and govern towns. The world is a scary place when you lose your shelter from it, and at least with Brax, I felt protected.
I get ready to lock my car, and go inside. I never told Julian or his dad that I’d be returning to work today. They’ll be shocked to see me, and probably tell me it’s a bad idea. But it feels like the right thing to do. Anything beats staying at home and missing Brax.
I see one of the town officers coming out of the deli, and feel guilt tug at my conscience. Sure, Julian explained to the officer in charge what happened to me, but if my story was true, it would have meant I wasted a lot of police time.
The least I can do is apologize. The station is less than a half a mile away from here, and figuring the fresh air will do me some good and work isn’t expecting me anyway, I cross the street and walk along the pavement until I find myself standing outside Woodland Park station.
I hear a bike engine roar from behind me and automatically whip my head around in hope. It’s a sports bike, nothing like the type Brax and the guys at the club ride, and disappointment sinks from my chest into my stomach and rests heavy. I quickly distract myself from it by taking a breath and opening the door.
“Can I help?” The monotone voice of the receptionist distracts me from looking at the posters on the wall. I wonder what picture Julian used for my missing poster.
“Um, yes. I wanted to speak to the sheriff, or whoever's in charge.”
“Regarding?” she asks systematically, already grabbing a clipboard from under the desk and reaching for a pen.
“I’m Grace Scott,” I tell her, almost embarrassed to admit that now I’m here. “My boyfriend called a few days ago to explain that I was home safe, and I just wanted to come in and apologize for wasting your time with the search. I was wondering if I could make a donation or something.”
The woman behind the desk looks back at me puzzled.
“Frank,” she yells out, keeping her eyes fixed on me. And after a few moments, a podgy man in uniform steps out of the door behind her.
“Did we have a missing report come in for a… sorry, doll, what was your name again?”
“Grace Scott,” I repeat.
“A Grace Scott,” she calls over her shoulder, despite him being only a few feet away.
“We haven’t had a missing since Helda Redman lost her boy back in February, and you know where that little scoundrel was…” he chuckles to himself, “hiding up in old Ken Kelby’s shack in the woods. Boy sat tight up there for two days straight, had his mother out of her wits he did.”
“You must be mistaken. I was gone for almost a month. My boyfriend reported me. Julian Lenard, he called the officer in charge the other day to tell you I’d been found.”
“Not here he didn’t,” the officer shakes his head. “But I’m glad you’re home safe anyhow.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, confused as hell as I turn and head for the door.
“Hold ya horses,” the receptionist calls after me.
“Give me that name again. I’ll run ya through the system. Tell you where to send that donation.” She smiles.
