When Gracie Met the Grump Read Online Mariana Zapata

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
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I didn’t have friends. So what?

“Seconds,” The Defender finally answered, totally grudgingly. But it was still a reply!

But seconds? It wasn’t like I didn’t know he was in deep shit. This wasn’t news. It was what I’d expected.

Yet somehow, at the same time, it was devastating.

“Your parents…”—Did he say that sarcastically or was I imagining it?—“how much did they take from them?”

I tried to think about how to answer that without actually answering, but he must have seen how much I was overthinking it because his expression went wary.

“I want the truth,” he demanded in that voice that still felt like a discovery.

I sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this shit. If I had any shot of getting out of here, as tiny as it might be, I needed him, and it was better to get this over with now than later. “My parents used to work for them. I don’t know what they did, just that they worked for them. Fifteen years ago, for reasons I don’t understand, they ran off with millions of dollars. I don’t know how many millions, but I’d bet even a few hundred dollars would have been too much. Apparently, no one knows what they did with it, but some people in the group—the cartel, gang, whatever they are—think I have it, even though I haven’t seen either of them since I was five.”

That got him thinking some more. “Why?”

“Why did they steal the money? No clue. Why did they get involved with the cartel in the first place? My grandpa said they got involved with the wrong people and couldn’t find a way out of it.” I shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s the truth though. Part of me doesn’t believe it. But that’s why my grandparents raised me. Can’t really raise a baby when you’re doing illegal shit, I guess. My mom hid her pregnancy, dropped in on my grandparents randomly, had me, and she left me with them before she went back.”

I really didn’t want to get into all this, but I didn’t see a point in leaving out pieces. According to my grandparents, my mom and dad had wanted me to “have a normal life,” and that’s why I’d been left. I called bullshit.

Over the years, as I learned more about my family—at least what they hadn’t minded me learning—I’d decided my grandparents had done what they did to put distance between us and my parents. At first, maybe they’d been afraid they would change their minds and want me back. There was no other reason why we should have moved around as much as we did back when I’d been real young. No one had been after us at that point, but every few years, we’d picked up and gone somewhere else.

“I don’t know anything about them.” I shrugged. “Only what they did. I saw them only once. I don’t remember what they looked like. Ten years ago, I read a letter my mom somehow got to them; it wasn’t even addressed to me. It’s just a DNA link between us. That’s all. We changed our last names and started moving around a lot afterward.” Might as well be honest about that. But that was all the truth for the most part. I figured he’d still have questions. It was more than I had ever admitted to anyone. It was also more than I should have shared. Dammit.

I wanted to change the subject though, and my curiosity was at its all-time high, especially since he wasn’t ignoring me for the time being. So I went with the first thing that came into my head. “How old are you?” I asked. “I can keep a secret. If I tell anyone, you can… give me a wedgie.”

His voice and expression were both flat. “A wedgie?” he muttered, sounding so not impressed.

“I don’t deserve a death sentence for it. A wedgie is pretty fair. I’m not going to steal your personal information and get a credit card or take out a loan.” I blinked and whispered, “If you forgot, I don’t know your name.”

The Defender blinked, and I almost didn’t hear him as he said, “A thousand.”

It was my turn to blink, and I swear I didn’t mean to say it the way I did, but it came out dry anyway. “Bullshit.”

His gaze narrowed.

“I’m twenty-nine,” I offered, like he was curious about it when he hadn’t even cared about my name.

Then he struck again. “Did I ask?”

Why did I even bother? Why was I still surprised when he talked to me like that? I glared at him. “I don’t get why you have it out for me. Did I do something in another lifetime? Did I cut you off one day?”

Oh, the look. The fucking look he gave me. I must have done something fucking unforgivable. Maybe that’s what had given me such terrible luck now. “Are you going to stop talking… any time soon… or is this going to be my real torture, being stuck in a small space… with your mouth?”



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