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Back Nana Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title page
  2. Prologue
  3. Part One
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. Part Two
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. Part Three
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. Get on the Mailing List!
  69. Also by Brandon Massey
  70. About Brandon Massey

His heart slammed. Quickly, he grabbed the cup of water on the stand—it hadn’t been touched—dipped his finger in it, and used it to swab moisture across her cracked lips.

“I’m here for you,” he said. “You’re in the hospital. You had an accident, Mom. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Her fuzzy gaze sharpened. Her lips parted, and in a raspy whisper, she asked: “How?”

“A friend says that you ran out of the animal shelter and into the path of a speeding vehicle.” His hands tightened into fists. “I don’t know how that happened, but I’m convinced that Grace had something to do with it.”

“Can’t . . . remember . . . what I did . . .” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Gently, he flicked them away with a tissue.

“Does anything at all come to mind about Grace?” He hated to be questioning her about the woman, so soon after she had regained consciousness, when he probably should have summoned the nurse, but his need to know was like an ache in his gut.

“Purse . . .” Mom said. She tried to lift her head off the pillow. “Where . . .”

Troy looked around the room, found his mother’s belongings inside the small closet near the bathroom door: her athletic shoes, clothes, and her leather purse.

He brought the purse to the bed. Mom watched him as he came to her. She might have been immobile and weakened, but her eyes were focused, and that gave him hope.

Standing beside her, he unzipped her bag.

“Gave . . . me somethin’ . . .” Mom whispered. “A . . . gift . . .”

He emptied the bag onto her bed. A pocketbook, makeup, keys, business cards, and random items all poured out onto the sheet.

“That . . .” Mom said. She tried to use her arm but it was suspended in traction. “Cream . . .”

He found it at the bottom of the pile: A small, black glass jar. On the lid, calligraphic text read: Lovely Hands, by Grace.

“Yes.” Mom nodded, winced from the movement.

Hands shaking, Troy twisted off the cap. The jar contained a creamy substance that emitted a strong herbal fragrance.

“Peace . . . offering . . . she said,” Mom said.

“Peace offering, my ass.” Troy ground his teeth. “No, Mom. Jesus, she was trying to kill you. The woman’s pure evil. I’ll bet you a year’s salary that if I submit sample of this shit to a lab, they’ll find it’s swimming with hallucinogenic compounds.”

“What . . . going . . . to do?” Mom blinked, appeared to be drifting off.

“Let’s focus on your recovery,” he said. “Leave Grace to me. I’m onto her now. I’m figuring out how she works. And I’m going to stop her.”

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