Vengeance (Burning Beliefs #2)

Chapter Thirteen *edited*

GRACIE'S POV

I feel pretty. That magical, oh-my-gosh-I'm-not-really-pretty magical feeling you get when you actually like what you see in the mirror. For the first time in seven years, I think I'm finally accepting myself.

A smuggled tan sweater, black pencil skirt, fishnet leggings, and a silky dark overcoat, complete with my hair up in a bun and smoky makeup. The lipstick color I chose is one that's been pounded down year by year, barely a smudge left in the container. It's a dark maroon like red velvet cupcakes.

"Do I look okay?" I turn away from the mirror on the wall and straight towards the red couches.

Starlight blankets the Friday night sky outside, the flowery taste of summer drifting through the open windows.

Dean is intently focused on a How It's Made, while Sam is staring hard-eyed at his laptop, with Dad looking solemnly out the windows. I know that in the back of his mind, he's desperately worried about Serena. That's part of the reason he doesn't sleep at night.

His distant blue eyes turns to me, blanketed with some kind of nostalgia.

"You look fine," he half-smiles.

"Where are you going?" Dean's eyes land on my thin black heels. "Can you even walk in those?"

"Of course!" I mock-model walk for him. Well, kind of. A slight hiccup at the end almost sends me to the floor, but, thank God, I don't faceplant and embarass myself even more. "See? Fine. Perfectly fine."

"Where are you going, Gracie?" Sam asks. His dark eyes are pooled over with concern.

"A place in Omaha," I look down at the floor, my hands intertwined at my stomach. "Nowhere really important."

"Why?" Dad asks. His eyes are still glued to the scene outside the windows.

"I just need to get outside."

"What place in Omaha?" Dean completely ignores my answers.

"I told you it wasn't anywhere important!"

"Answer the question, please, Gracie Belle," Sam sighs.

I can see Dad's shoulders tense up a bit.

I roll my eyes. "It's just... this karaoke... bar. Place. Thing."

"A bar?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Gracie!" Dean declares.

"Am I on house arrest or something?"

"You should be."

"Dean, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't even get me started, princess --"

"What's so bad about her wanting to go out?" Dad turns to face me.

Sam and Dean exchange one of their glances.

Yeah, that whole pregnancy thing is pretty much still a huge secret that only the three of us know about. Zephira definitely has her suspicions, I've seen her staring at me while I down about thirteen waffles per breakfast. I have three breakfasts now, fun fact.

But my dad still doesn't know. I've ran the scenario in my head a billion different times, and it always ends up with me running away, him banishing me, him getting really angry at me, me bursting into tears, or the same stupid disappointment I always seem to feel. So no. No. No way have I busted out the whole baby thing to my father.

"I don't know," I answer too quickly. "Why shouldn't I go out, guys?"

They freeze for just a second. They hestitate.