1. Grace

Chapter one

Grace

Six Years Old

M y shiny red shoes squeaked on the hardwood as I shuffled my feet. My short legs were struggling to keep up with Daddy, who tugged me down the hallway by my arm. I wasn't supposed to be in the basement, he'd yelled at me before and locked me in my room for disobeying that rule.

"Grace, walk properly," he snapped, jerking my arm roughly. Tears sprang to my eyes as I tried to hurry along with him, but he was too fast, and his hand tightened as I stumbled again. A grunt of annoyance was his only response, and we finally stopped at the last room at the end of the hall. I didn't want to go into that room, but Daddy wouldn't let go of my arm. I shook like a leaf as he knocked sharply, and the door swung open. Without another word, he dragged me inside.

The room looked sort of like a hospital, or at least it smelled like one, the harsh chemical scent making my nose itch. Dougie was already here, standing like a good little soldier beside Daddy's friend, Bill. I didn't like Bill, he was mean and liked to pinch me on the leg when no one was looking. A low groan echoed through the room, and I grabbed Daddy's shirt, clinging on fearfully as something moved in the corner.

"Anything yet?" Daddy barked, looking at Bill, who shook his head, clapping a hand on Dougie's shoulder.

"He scared him so badly he pissed himself, but no names yet," Bill sighed, and Dougie grinned, leaning into the praise like a flower discovering the sun.

"Fine then, I guess we try the carrot now," Daddy grumbled and yanked me out from behind him. "Dougie, take her," he ordered. My brother hopped over and took me by the shoulders, leading me toward the thing in the corner.

"No, no, I don't want to," I whined, fighting against Dougie's hold as he pulled me. He was only four years older than me, but he was already a whole lot stronger, and I heard a tearing sound as my dress ripped under his ruthless grip.

"Shut up, Gracie!" he hissed, giving me a shake. I bit my tongue, my bottom lip quivering as he shoved me toward the lump, which, to my absolute horror, was moving. Dougie forced me to face the thing, wrapping his arms around me and holding me in place. "Do it," he snapped, and I whimpered, shaking my head.

The thing turned, and I gasped when I realized that it was a person, hunched over in a ball on the floor. There were red lines streaking across his face like he'd been attacked by a cat, and he was crying. Dougie squeezed me tighter, making me wince. "Do it!"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I closed my eyes, focusing on the little bubble of light in my chest that I kept locked safely inside me. Breathing softly, I let it out, pushing it toward the corner where the man was huddled. The effects were immediate—he heaved a great, shuddering sigh and stopped crying, his eyes meeting mine. "Thank you," he murmured, inching toward me.

I trembled as he neared, my nose wrinkling at the sour smell of him, but Dougie kept me locked against his chest, refusing to let me move away. "Ask him if he knows who orchestrated the drug bust," Dougie hissed in my ear.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, and the man lit up with hope. "I need… um… do you know who… who… orcha-orche-" I stumbled over the big word, and Dougie pinched me hard, making me cry out. "Do you know who did the drug bust?" I amended, and Dougie patted the bruise he'd left on my arm softly. The man crawled on his knees until he was crouched at my feet. I wanted to get away from him so bad, he smelled awful.

"Yes," the man groaned, doubling over in pain as he rocked in front of me.

"Names," Dougie hissed in my ear again, and I whimpered, keeping my light focused on the man.

"What… what are their names?" I stammered, and he reached out to touch my foot, stroking over the red material of my shiny shoes.

"Campbell… and Ruiz…" he murmured, and I heard Daddy scoff behind us.

"Put it away now," Dougie ordered, and I closed my eyes, gathering my light back up inside of me, locking it tightly away. Immediately, the man cried out in despair, grabbing for my hands.

"No, no, no! Please! Please!" he wailed, and Dougie jerked me away from him, pushing me over to Bill and Daddy. I ran and clung to Daddy's leg, and he stroked my hair with a near fondness.

"You did good Gracie, I'm really proud of you for getting those names for me," Daddy told me, and I dared a glance up at their faces. Bill was smirking at me, making me feel icky, but Daddy was smiling, and I warmed under his praise. The man behind us started screaming because of whatever Dougie was doing to him, and I cowered, shoving my face into Daddy's jacket.

"The carrot and the stick," Bill mused. "Which one is more effective, I wonder?" He and Daddy chuckled, and I pressed my face tighter into the soft fabric, trying to block out the horrible screams of that poor man.

"Alright, enough Gracie, stop that," Daddy scolded, pushing me away from his jacket. "This is expensive." He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me out of the room, down the hallway toward the stairs. I sniffled loudly, trying to get my tears under control. The tight hold I had on my light was slipping, and a little ebbed out as I fought against the tears bubbling their way up.

"Why are you h-hurting that man?" I asked Daddy, and he ran a hand over his face, looking tired.

"He's the only one who knows who at the police station turned against us. I needed to find out who it was, so I can punish them and set an example." I blinked up at him, and his face contorted with a sudden rage. In a blink, I was lying on the floor, my face throbbing and my ear ringing. A sob bubbled up in my throat, choking me as I gasped for air. "What did I say?" he snapped, towering over me. "Never, ever use that shit on me. Do you want to be like that man in the room?" he demanded. "I catch you doing that again, and I will tan your hide, Gracie!"

I curled up into a ball, pulling my light tightly into my chest. "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry!" I wailed, sobs wracking through my chest. I heard him sigh and felt his hand wrap around my arm, tugging me up off the ground.

"Go upstairs now, have Maisy fix your hair and wash your face. You're a mess," he muttered, pushing me away from him. I ran toward the stairs, tripping twice as I scurried up to the main floor. Maisy was in the kitchen, chatting with Boris, our cook, and I ran full-tilt into her legs, sobbing openly.

"Oh sweetheart..." Maisy clicked her tongue, stroking my hair gently. "Let me see, baby." She tilted my chin up, shaking her head as she surveyed the damage. "I'll get you some ice so that doesn't swell," she murmured, walking over to the fridge. Boris watched me, his face never betraying any sort of emotion or thought. The apron he wore was covered in stains from where he wiped his hands on his stomach as he cooked. He grunted when I glanced up at him, and I quickly dropped my gaze back to the floor.

"Here you go, baby." Maisy smiled, handing me an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel. I pressed it to my cheek, wincing as it touched my tender skin. "Come on, let's go get changed. You've got… your dress is dirty." She sighed. I looked down, and sure enough, there were dark red stains streaking down the front of my pretty dress.