Read Online Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) by K Anne Raines - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: K Anne Raines
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my mind. I have a mee—”
“— meeting,” Zeke finished for her, as Grace cocked her head at him. “I’m sorry you’re having a bad day that doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better for you until after your meeting. Look, if you’re feeling up to it later, give me a call and we can go grab a coffee or something.” He handed her a slip of paper.
“ Yeah, sure.” Grace glanced at the scrap to see his cell number written on it, then slipped it into her jeans pocket.
“ I’ll talk to ya later. I have to get to class. You going to be alright?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m just going to go home. If I don’t talk to you later, I’ll see you in class.”
After school, Grace parked on the street under the fringe tree and walked up her driveway, peeking in the garage window to see if her mother’s car was inside. Not surprisingly, relief washed over her when she saw it wasn’t there.
Inside, she dropped her backpack against the corner in the foyer and sauntered to her room. It was still two and a half hours until she needed to leave for the attorney’s office.
Grace flopped on her bed, covering her head with the blanket. The anxiety she was feeling was becoming overwhelming. The dread of loneliness crept back over her as she thought about being crammed in a room with a bunch of people who couldn’t give a rat’s behind about her. Her family hated her, and her mother was…well, not very motherly.
The whole thing was rather depressing. Her tears couldn’t agree more, they slowly trickled down each cheek. It had been twenty-four hours since her last cry, the longest she’d gone since her grandfather died. Grace pulled the covers over her head a little more, and pushed her face harder against her pillow. She let her tears flow freely, not worrying herself with tear-induced snot. Instead, she focused on sleeping. If she could just go to sleep, she could forget about how much her life sucked for just a little while.
Quentin struggled to relax, which was nearly impossible with Grace’s angst coursing through his veins. He lowered the binoculars from his eyes and put the front two legs of the wooden chair back on the ground, stepping away from the window. The second-story one-bedroom apartment across from the bank was the perfect location for a minor stakeout. Cameras were housed all around the bank and up and down the street, providing the extra security needed until Grace made it there.
Walking to the bedroom, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. It was eleven o’clock, just three hours until Grace’s meeting at the estate attorney’s office. The low hum from the network of computers could be heard just outside the bedroom door. Quentin pushed the cell back in his pocket as he walked through the door to check the activity up and down Broadway.
Nothing suspicious had happened on the street or around the bank throughout the course of the day. His security network was connected to his cell, and it would have sent an instant message identifying in detail what it deemed as potential issues. As of eleven o’clock, there had been no potentials identified.
He looked down at his hand rubbing his chest, and wondered how long he’d been unconsciously trying to rub away the gnawing pain. Grace’s anxiety had become muted, replaced with an aching sadness. At least, that’s how he interpreted it. His past had given him experience with feeling the emotions of other males. Total immersion in the myriad of emotions experienced by a teenage female was completely foreign to him, and immensely uncomfortable.
Quentin pulled his cell out again, feeling the urge to check on her. Going back and forth with whether to call or text , the pain he felt was suddenly gone. After rubbing his seneschal band, he sensed she was safe and realized she must have fallen asleep.
He went back to sitting again and positioned himself with the binoculars in front of the window. He had a
“— meeting,” Zeke finished for her, as Grace cocked her head at him. “I’m sorry you’re having a bad day that doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better for you until after your meeting. Look, if you’re feeling up to it later, give me a call and we can go grab a coffee or something.” He handed her a slip of paper.
“ Yeah, sure.” Grace glanced at the scrap to see his cell number written on it, then slipped it into her jeans pocket.
“ I’ll talk to ya later. I have to get to class. You going to be alright?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m just going to go home. If I don’t talk to you later, I’ll see you in class.”
After school, Grace parked on the street under the fringe tree and walked up her driveway, peeking in the garage window to see if her mother’s car was inside. Not surprisingly, relief washed over her when she saw it wasn’t there.
Inside, she dropped her backpack against the corner in the foyer and sauntered to her room. It was still two and a half hours until she needed to leave for the attorney’s office.
Grace flopped on her bed, covering her head with the blanket. The anxiety she was feeling was becoming overwhelming. The dread of loneliness crept back over her as she thought about being crammed in a room with a bunch of people who couldn’t give a rat’s behind about her. Her family hated her, and her mother was…well, not very motherly.
The whole thing was rather depressing. Her tears couldn’t agree more, they slowly trickled down each cheek. It had been twenty-four hours since her last cry, the longest she’d gone since her grandfather died. Grace pulled the covers over her head a little more, and pushed her face harder against her pillow. She let her tears flow freely, not worrying herself with tear-induced snot. Instead, she focused on sleeping. If she could just go to sleep, she could forget about how much her life sucked for just a little while.
Quentin struggled to relax, which was nearly impossible with Grace’s angst coursing through his veins. He lowered the binoculars from his eyes and put the front two legs of the wooden chair back on the ground, stepping away from the window. The second-story one-bedroom apartment across from the bank was the perfect location for a minor stakeout. Cameras were housed all around the bank and up and down the street, providing the extra security needed until Grace made it there.
Walking to the bedroom, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. It was eleven o’clock, just three hours until Grace’s meeting at the estate attorney’s office. The low hum from the network of computers could be heard just outside the bedroom door. Quentin pushed the cell back in his pocket as he walked through the door to check the activity up and down Broadway.
Nothing suspicious had happened on the street or around the bank throughout the course of the day. His security network was connected to his cell, and it would have sent an instant message identifying in detail what it deemed as potential issues. As of eleven o’clock, there had been no potentials identified.
He looked down at his hand rubbing his chest, and wondered how long he’d been unconsciously trying to rub away the gnawing pain. Grace’s anxiety had become muted, replaced with an aching sadness. At least, that’s how he interpreted it. His past had given him experience with feeling the emotions of other males. Total immersion in the myriad of emotions experienced by a teenage female was completely foreign to him, and immensely uncomfortable.
Quentin pulled his cell out again, feeling the urge to check on her. Going back and forth with whether to call or text , the pain he felt was suddenly gone. After rubbing his seneschal band, he sensed she was safe and realized she must have fallen asleep.
He went back to sitting again and positioned himself with the binoculars in front of the window. He had a
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