One Night in Vegas (18+)|✔️

Chapter 8

The golden light of morning filtered through the curtains as I opened my eyes.

I lay there, blinking slowly, feeling a bone-deep fatigue that I couldn't seem to shake. A part of me wanted to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep.

It won't help...

Sitting up, I folded back the sheets and comforter. My feet landed on the rug with a muted 'thud'.

The guest room's décor was pleasant in that very generic kind of way. The muted floral prints and soft, soothing colors made it welcoming and impersonal at the same time.

It's temporary...

I'd been sleeping here for the past few days at the invitation of Grace's parents, trying to support her in the aftermath of the break-in.

Forcing my limbs to move, I stood, walking to the door.

Across the hall, I knocked lightly.

"Grace? You up?"

After a moment, her reply came, "Yeah."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

I heard a soft click as she unlocked the door, pulling it open.

Oh, no...

I stepped into Grace's childhood bedroom as she settled back onto her bed, picking up the worn paperback.

The tired redness of her eyes told me everything.

Seating myself down by her feet, I asked, "Did you sleep last night?"

Grace shook her head, not looking at me.

"Did you take one of those sleeping pills?"

She drew up her knees, hugging them against herself. "I kept trying to make myself fall asleep on my own. Before I knew it, the sun was coming up."

I sighed, "Okay. What if I got you a sleeping pill now?"

Grace pursed her lips, "Those things put me out for seven hours at least. It would completely fuck up my sleep schedule."

"I think that ship has sailed, Babe."

There was defeat in her eyes as she sighed. "...okay."

Standing, I said, "I'll be right back."

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Grace's father, Michael, was filling up his travel mug for his morning commute.

"How is she?"

I shook my head, "She didn't sleep again."

"Great." His eyes scanned over me, "How about you – are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I muttered, pulling a cup out of the cabinet and filling it from the tap. "Just worried, you know?"

"You sure? You look like you might be coming down with something."

I felt a faint smile on my face. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm just tired – really."

"Well, both of you should try getting some sleep today."

"Yeah." Turning off the tap, I asked him, "She's going to be okay, right?"

He sipped at his coffee. "The D.A. said that fucker is going to get two years, minimum, so that should help put her mind at ease..."

Sighing, I murmured, "I hope so."

"Grace is strong. This whole thing... it was a shock, but she'll get back on her feet. She never was one to stay down long."