Hadley & Grace(49)
He tells her he’s supposed to see them tomorrow, and that he and his son are going to pick out a dog. She tells him about Prince Charles and how bad she felt about leaving him behind. She knows she should not be upset over such a trivial thing as a pet, but Prince Charles was with her most of her marriage, and he helped her through the worst of times, and she can’t help but feel like she’s abandoned him after a loyal life of service.
He asks about Mattie and Skipper and a little about Frank, though it’s obvious he already knows a lot and has very strong opinions about him.
“Why didn’t you leave before?” he says when she finishes telling him about the pizza incident the night they left, a confession that felt like both a betrayal and a relief. It’s the first time she’s ever told anyone the truth about her marriage.
“I believed in love,” she mumbles, feeling foolish. “In marriage.” She shakes her head. “We were a family, and . . . I don’t know, I guess I just sort of believed in the idea that you stick it out—you know, through thick and thin—and that love is permanent, flaws and all.”
He tenses, and she wonders which part offended him, the fact that she stayed so long or that she could be so naive.
“Hadley,” he says after a long minute, “I need you to listen to me—”
“Don’t,” she says. “I just want to lie here. Please.”
She feels his reluctance to let it go, but mercifully, he stays silent and they return to quiet cuddling.
She drifts off, and when she wakes, he’s looking at her. “Now Grace is really going to shoot me,” he says.
Hadley laughs, a blush of pride blooming at the thought of Grace discovering what she’s done, almost hoping she does, feeling a little like a gladiator after a conquest in the arena. Then she thinks of Mattie and Skipper, and the thought is obliterated.
Suddenly panicked, she pushes herself up and grabs for her clothes. Her shirt and bra are tangled on the ACE bandage, and she has no idea where her panties have gone.
Mark manages to pull up his pants, but he is completely at a loss as to how to get his shirt back over his head. She gets her bra on, then scrambles to help him flip his shirt right side up. She is still tugging it over his shoulders when the sound of tires on gravel rolls toward them.
“Shit,” she says, abandoning his clothes and focusing on her own.
She’s buttoning the last button on her shirt when the car stops. Forgetting she’s tied to him and that her ankle can’t hold her, she leaps for the door.
Mark dives, and his body lands between her and the ground with a grunt. Before she can right herself, the door opens, and she looks up to see Grace, her arms loaded with bags.
She looks down at them and sniffs the air, and her eyes grow wide. “Are you kidding me? Tell me you’re kidding me?”
“Kidding about what?” Mattie says, stepping up behind her, Miles in her arms.
“Mattie, wait outside,” Hadley says quickly as she pushes off Mark and stumbles to her knees.
Grace closes the door, locking Mattie out; then she storms to the desk. “You do realize he is trying to arrest you?” she says, setting down the bags. “His job is to lock you up, put you behind bars, incarcerate you.”
Hadley staggers to her feet, Mark helping her as best he can with his bound hands.
“An eight-by-ten cell,” Grace continues, “with a cellmate named Bertha.” She practically bounces the water bottles off the desk as she slams them down. “A woman who bites the tails off rats and who names her toenail clippings. You do get that, don’t you?”
Hadley looks sheepishly at her through her brow, her cheeks warm, and Grace looks like she wants to slam the flashlight she’s holding over Hadley’s head. Then her frown deepens, and she shakes her head and harrumphs, but the harrumph lacks oomph, and Hadley thinks she might actually be a little pleased for her. Then she harrumphs again and returns to unpacking the groceries.
Hadley unties her wrist from Mark’s and, with apology in her eyes, reties the loose end to the desk, double and triple knotting it.
His eyes hold hers, pleading with her to reconsider, and she quickly looks away.
Grace pulls a Subway sandwich from the bag and holds it out. “I figured you must be hungry. Turkey and swiss on italian, lettuce only, hold the mayo.”
“Do I really come off that boring?”
Grace’s eyes slide to Mark. “Not anymore.”
Hadley smirks, and Grace flicks an annoyed look at her, which only causes Hadley to smirk wider, a grin she can’t seem to wipe away, unable to believe she did what she did.
Grace carries a second sandwich to Mark. He opens his mouth to say something, but Grace cuts him off. “Open your mouth for any reason other than to eat this sandwich, and so help me, I’ll leave you with nothing but water and granola bars.”
He snaps his mouth closed, and Hadley mouths, “Sorry.”
While Hadley eats, Grace rebinds Mark to the desk using zip ties, twining them together in such a way as to form a thick rope that chains his right wrist to the desk and leaves his left hand free. Then she moves the supplies she bought so they’re within his reach.
She bought enough food for a week, along with two dozen bottles of water, magazines, an air mattress, a sleeping bag, a pillow . . . and a bucket. Hadley looks at the bucket curiously; then, when she realizes what it’s for, she cringes and looks away, unable to face Mark, knowing she is a part of this.