Free Razing Grace: Razing Grace Part 1 by Amo Jones Page B

the side of my head. Bringing my hand up, I rub my fingers over the bloody slit. “What happened?” I ask, dazed.
    He curses under his breath before standing to his feet and walking towards me. Dropping back down to the ground, his hand grips my chin. Tripp tilts my head to face him, his eyes searching mine desperately. The perfect mix of thunder and sun all held in the flawless barrier of his blue depths. The grip he has on my chin loosens slightly as his eyes drop down to my mouth.
    “What do you look like?” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
    He curses again, releasing my chin and standing to his feet. “I’ve gotta fix you up before Hachiro Akimoto collects you.”
    He turns towards the door and leaves abruptly, leaving my silent questions hanging in the balance. Exhaling, I rest my head against the wall and stare up at the ceiling. I’ve done everything right in life, so why am I getting punished? The door swings open again, snapping me out of my thoughts. Tripp walks back in with a little first aid kit and comes back to me, dropping down to his knees.
    I bring my eyes to his. “I didn’t realize so many people wanted me dead.”
    He pauses briefly before pulling out the pack of wet wipes. Ripping the packet open, his hand finds my chin again as he tilts my head to the side. The cool wipe touches my wound and I suck in a breath at the unwelcome sting.
    “Why do you think everyone wants you dead?” he asks, dropping the now blood-soaked wipe on the floor. Picking up a new packet, he tears it open and cleans his hands.
    I chuckle. “Oh, I don’t know.” The sarcasm is dripping off my tongue. “Maybe because I’ve been violated, manhandled, and—oh, that’s right—sold.”
    I’m shaking my head at my own answer when his rough palm finds my chin again. I go to move my head to the side for him so he can get to my wound when he halts my movement, turning my face back to meet his. This time, his face is so close to mine I can see the intricate array of green flecks that light up his grey eyes. They’re fascinating and I find my head tilting to the side in amazement before I realize what I’m doing. His thumb is resting on the rim of my bottom lip casually. Sliding my tongue across my lip, his eyes narrow in on my movement.
    He takes the needle and the thread out of the first aid kit. “You need stitches.”
    “How many?” I ask faintly.
    He looks back up at me, his hands pausing on his task. “About four or five.”
    I exhale, my shoulders slacking. “Okay.”
    “That wasn’t a question.”
    “Of course it wasn’t,” I scoff under my breath.
    “Get up.” Tripp grips under my arms and pulls me to my feet. “Hachiro will want you in one pretty little piece when he takes ownership.”
    I follow him towards the wooden door that opens out to the long corridor we came down. My skin tightens around the wound on my head and I bring my hand up to touch the tiny scar that now runs down my temple towards my eye. Scarred. Tripp walks out the door and my hand flies out to his bulging arms, his muscles twitching under my palm. “Tripp?”
    He stops, turning his head over his shoulder slightly. “What?”
    “When my sister comes for you—because she will come for you—tell her I love her before she puts a bullet between your eyes.”
    “Noted.” He yanks me forward, shutting the door behind our departure. For once in however long I’ve now been here for, I’m not afraid.
     

MILLIE
    The mid-afternoon sun shimmies over my skin as soon as my feet land on the loose gravel road. Tripp’s grip tightens around my arm at the display of the four dark SUVs that are parked in a line. The sight would usually cause an unwelcome stir inside of me but it doesn’t. I follow Tripp’s lead until the door we exited from shuts behind us and we both turn to see the priest and Kurr walking out in hushed tones. Some sick part of me is relieved that I’m not with the priest. At least there is some part of me that