Page 48 of Shattered By Grace

Her forehead pressed against the cool tiles, the scalding water mixing with tears she hadn’t realized had started to fall. Anxiety gnawed at her, her heart racing with each thought. The Lockes were close. Too close.

Sliding down the tile wall, she put her head in her hands and sat there crying until the water turned frigid.

She stood, shutting off the water, and lingered in the silence, her breath shallow, her mind racing.

“It’s time I go back to my father’s house,” she whispered, the need for answers driving her, no matter the danger.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she stared at her reflection in the fogged mirror, her eyes haunted. For a moment, she thought she saw movement behind her in the mist, a shadow that didn’t belong. But when she turned, there was nothing.Fuck.

Shaking it off, she trudged to her dresser and grabbed a simple nightdress, slipping it on before heading to her bed. She collapsed onto the side that was still sleepable. The second her head hit the pillow, sleep pulled her under.

Victoria’s mind began to blur the lines between reality and fantasy. Shadows of desire and uncertainty crept in, weaving a dream that felt all too real.

The cool silk sheets clung to her skin as she lay on the edge of wakefulness, the air thick with anticipation. She felt the faintest touch, a pair of hands slowly running up her leg, tracing the delicate curve of her calf with featherlight strokes. The sensation sent shivers rippling across her body, each caress both soothing and electrifying.

The hands were firm but gentle, gliding over her bare skin with a precision that made her breath hitch. Warm, teasing kisses started at the top of her foot, trailing up in a line of fire along her calf and lingering on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The intimacy was intoxicating, a magnetic pull drawing her deeper into the dream.

Her back arched involuntarily as her body responded, her mind fogged with the mix of pleasure and the thrill of the unknown. The heat, the touch…it all felt so real.

Just as the kisses grew closer to where her desire burned the most, a familiar voice murmured against her skin. Low, rough, and filled with wicked intent.

“Victoria.”

Her eyes fluttered open within the dream, startled. Even in the dream, she froze. Because it wasn’tGracehe said. It wasVictoria.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Victoria’s alarm blared, yanking her from sleep like a punch to the gut. She jolted upright, her heart hammering as the ghost of a voice echoed in her ears. Victoria.

Tristan’s voice.

The dream clung to her, thick and inescapable. The way his hands had gripped her hips. The heat of his breath against her skin. The way he whispered her name like a secret. Her real name. No one had called her that in years.

Her pulse was still racing as she shoved off the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on her, heavier than the night before. She’d spent hours cleaning up after the break-in, trying to put her apartment back together, like rearranging shattered pieces of herself. The door had been reinforced, the furniture returned to its usual places, but nothing felt the same.

And there were gaps. Empty spaces that screamed at her.

She dragged her gaze toward the shelf where her favorite picture of her father used to sit. It was gone, along with thenecklace he’d given her when she turned thirteen. The loss hit her like a gut punch all over again.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Clawdia perched on the windowsill, her large green eyes fixated outside. Watching. Guarding.

“Holding down the fort, huh?” Victoria muttered, crossing the room to scratch the cat behind the ears. Clawdia purred, but didn’t break her vigil.

Shoving aside the uneasy thoughts, Victoria pulled on her scrubs, plastered on a neutral expression, and headed out the door.

Act like nothing happened. Pretend everything’s fine. Easier said than done, she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes as she walks down the steps.

Victoria walked to the hospital, her steps steady but her mind adrift. No rose. No car. No hooded figure lurking in the shadows. The city moved around her, indifferent, and for once, she was left alone with her thoughts.

By the time she reached the hospital, the usual morning chaos was in full swing. Nurses bustled through the halls, doctors barked orders, and the sharp scent of antiseptic clung to the air. It was the kind of routine Victoria usually found comforting, a steady rhythm to anchor her spiraling thoughts.

As she rounded the corner toward the break room, the rich aroma of coffee met her first, warm and inviting. Taylor stood leaning against the counter, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup, eyes scanning something on her phone.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Taylor teased, her eyes flicking up from her phone with a smirk, her smile quickly faded. “You look like you barely slept.”

Victoria managed a small smile, though it felt too tight, too forced, as she reached for the coffee pot. Her fingers trembledslightly, the nerves from last night lingering like a shadow she couldn’t shake off.

Just need caffeine. Just need to get through the day, she thought, hoping the jolt of coffee would push the fog from her mind.

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