Saving Della-Ray
Page 1
Saving Della-Ray
Georgia Le Carre
Contents
Acknowledgments
1. Della-Ray
2. Gage
3. Della-Ray
4. Della-Ray
5. Gage
6. Della Ray
7. Della Ray
8. Della Ray
9. Della Ray
10. Della Ray
11. Della Ray
12. Della Ray
13. Gage
14. Della Ray
15. Della Ray
16. Gage
17. Della Ray
18. Della Ray
19. Bone
20. Della Ray
21. Della Ray
22. Della Ray
23. Della Ray
24. Della Ray
25. Bone
26. Della Ray
27. Bone
28. Della Ray
29. Della Ray
30. Della Ray
31. Della Ray
32. Della Ray
33. Della Ray
34. Della Ray
35. Della Ray
36. Bone
37. Bone
38. Della Ray
39. Della Ray
40. Della Ray
41. Gage
42. Gage
43. Della Ray
44. Gage
45. Della Ray
46. Della Ray
47. Gage
48. Gage
49. Della Ray
50. Della Ray
51. Della Ray
52. Della Ray
53. Gage
54. Gage
55. Della Ray
56. Della Ray
Epilogue
Coming Next - Sample chapter
Chapter 1
About the Author
Also By Georgia
Acknowledgments
Many, many thanks for all your hard work and help:
Leanora Elliott
Elizabeth Burns
Nichola Rhead
Kirstine Moran
Tracy Gray
Saving Della-Ray
Copyright © 2019 by Georgia Le Carre
The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding.
ISBN: 978-1-910575-92-5
Della-Ray
“What?” I croaked.
The cashier pulled my MasterCard out of her card reader, and stopped chewing gum long enough to repeat loudly, “I said, your card has been declined.”
My face burned with embarrassment. I could feel the gaze of everyone in that store on me. I wanted to run out of there and never go back, but this was now my local. Tightening my hold on my niece’s warm sweaty hand, I swallowed the shame crawling up my throat and said, “It can’t be. I just got paid. Can you please try it again?”
Her bored eyes were a dull amber as she held my card out to me. “There’s a bunch of people waiting behind you, ma’am. I know a declined card when I see one.”
I forced a smile. “Please. Sometimes it doesn’t go through on the first time, but if you try it again, it does. I work at the diner down the road and it happens to my customers occasionally.”
She stared blankly at me.
I let go of Jess and leaned towards the cashier. “Just one more time, please. I’m pretty sure it will go through.”
“Go on. Give her card another try. We haven’t got all day,” the woman behind me said.
I turned to meet the queue of eyes watching me with various expressions, impatience, annoyance, curiosity, and outright pity. “Sorry about this,” I said with an awkward smile to no one in particular.
With a long-suffering sigh, the cashier slid my card back in. My paycheck should have cleared, but as I tapped in my pin number, I could feel the sweat begin to gather under my arms. Silently, I prayed the card would go through. Otherwise, Jess would be eating peanut butter sandwiches for dinner tonight.
The cashier turned the face of her machine in my direction. “Declined,” she said loudly, as if she was pleased to have proved me wrong. “Martin!” she bellowed. “Can you come here for non-payment re-shelving?”
“Coming,” a male voice answered from somewhere at the back of the store.
I didn’t bother to wait. I picked up my card from the cold steel counter, straightened my back and gave Jess the sweetest smile I could muster. “Let’s go, Sweetie.”
Gage
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiN4L16sMH4
-Knocking On Heaven’s Door-
I looked at the blonde child’s head bobbing innocently. Then I looked again at the girl. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, but that smile which she gave the child. There was something majestic and noble in it. I saw that selfless smile once when I pulled a woman out of a burning car. “My baby. Is my baby safe?” she’d asked. When I said yes, she had smiled like that just before she breathed her last. I stared at the girl in fascination. She was too thin. Her clothes were clean, but well worn.
Let it go. Let it go.
She wasn’t my problem. Her check would clear in a couple of days and she would come back for the groceries. Not the end of the world. I definitely shouldn’t get involved. No way. Not with a girl like that. One look at her and I knew she would be a big complication. I didn’t need even a small complication.
“What about the groceries for our nice dinner, Della?” the kid asked innocently.
The girl took the child’s hand in hers with such infinite tenderness that something happened inside me. I felt a tug in my chest. Like the first time I looked into the big, bottomless eyes of a child whose father I had just killed. He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He just stared at me with blank empty eyes. I knew I had destroyed him. As I’d turned and walked away, something inside me shattered. I was never the same again. Sometimes I still dream of him.
I didn’t consciously plan it, but suddenly I had pushed my way to the front of the narrow aisle.
She looked up at me, frowned, and pulled the little girl to her.
I put my carton of milk on the counter and dropped some twenty-dollar notes next to it. “This should cover both bills.”
The cashier’s eyes widened. “You want to pay her bill?”
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t even wait for my change. I needed air, even if it was the suffocating hot noon air outside. I grabbed my carton of milk and walked away without looking at the girl. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t get involved. There should be no blowback from this moment of weakness. It could mean the difference between life or death for her and me.
Della-Ray
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSbxJMkI-tI
-I need some sugar in my bowl-
I watched his damp cascade of dark hair, the black T-shirt that showed his strong back; the tightly muscled and inked arms, and the stone washed black jeans that hugged his lean hips as he strode out of the store.
“Ma’am, take your groceries, please,” the cashier prompted.
I was bright red as I turned around. “I-I …”
“He paid for it all, so can you just take it and leave? There are a lot of people waiting.”
“Just fucking take it,” someone spat from the line.
I snatched the $62.30 worth of groceries and hurried out of the store. Jess pulled on my hand and I looked down at her.
She was smiling happily. “There he is,” she sang.
I followed her point
ing finger to see the biggest monster of a bike I’d ever seen, parked on the curb. It was jet black and the polished chrome was blinding in the sun. The rear lights were blood red. My eyes were riveted to the man who sat on it. As I watched he tipped his head and downed the 500ml carton of fresh milk he’d just bought, I felt my brain turn to mush.
“Big bike. Can I go on it?” Jess squealed excitedly.
The man pulled back his head, and with the back of his tattooed hand, he wiped the milk off the light dusting of dark stubble across his face.
His gaze met mine. There was no friendliness, no smile. In fact, it was a do-not-approach look.
It had the opposite effect on me. I was immediately jolted into motion. “Wait here,” I said to Jess, and marched across the sidewalk into the parking lot. I stopped a safe distance away from him. “Excuse me, but …” I nudged my head towards the full plastic bag in my hand. “I can’t just accept this. I have to pay you back for it.”
His gaze darkened with displeasure.
"I—I mean, I truly appreciate it. Thank you so much for helping us, but ..." I glanced down at the bag once more, then backwards at my niece. She was watching the man with unbridled interest. When I turned back to him, I saw that he was watching Jess too. I stiffened defensively, out of habit as I usually did, ready to tear his head off if he made any snide comments whatsoever about my angel.
"I have to pay you back,” I said more loudly.
Completely ignoring me, he bent his leg, fired up the beast of a bike, and revved it. Thunderous noise filled the hot air.
Seeing that he had no intention of responding to me, I moved closer. I was determined to pay him back. Only when I was this close did I notice the ocean blue of his eyes, the slight scar that was hidden in the stubble along his left jaw and the wild, untamed beauty of the man. He was so, so, so beautiful.
“My paycheck was supposed to have cleared yesterday. Something probably went wrong, but the moment I'm able to resolve it I'll immediately transfer your money. Can I please have your bank account details?"
For a moment, he regarded me without expression, then, the rude brute started to reverse back.
Before I could stop myself, my hand shot out.
He broke his gaze from mine and let it slide to the pitiful hold I had on his thick, tattooed forearms.
I snatched my hand away as if burnt. I hadn't even realized I had done that. "I’m sorry."
He gave me an, ‘I-thought-so-look’ and continued his prep to leave.
"Look, I'll leave the groceries here if you don’t allow me to pay you back," I cried.
“Do what you want with them. They’re yours.” His voice was deep, gravely with something dark and dangerous running underneath.
"Don’t you see? I cannot accept them,” I replied. I was getting frustrated. “Especially since you refuse to give me a way to pay you back?”
"I don’t want money, sweetheart … but if you really insist on paying me back, you could let me fuck you," he drawled, his eyes so blue and piercing it was as if he was trying to look into my soul.
The bag fell from my hand.
He held my gaze as I stared wide eyed at him. I felt my lips begin to tremble and I saw his unspeakably beautiful eyes drop to my mouth. Some strange expression flashed in them. I should have said something rude. Something cutting, something to put him in his place. The arrogant bastard thought I would have sex with him for $62.30 worth of groceries, but I couldn’t. For the first time in my life, I wanted to—I wanted to fuck a total stranger.
Without a word, I turned around and headed back to my niece.
As I reached her, I saw the empty carton of milk fly in an arc and land inside a rubbish bin by the side of the road. Then I heard his engine roar harder and zoom away into the distance. I couldn’t help turning around to glance back to the spot he had occupied. The bag was on the ground where I had dropped it.
Together with my niece, we retrieved the cherry tomatoes that had rolled out of the pack.
Jess spotted one that had rolled underneath a vehicle parked nearby and she immediately got down in the dirt and belly-crawled under the car after it.
I should have told her not to, but my heart was pumping in my chest and I could still feel my palm tingling where it had touched his warm skin.
“Got it,” she shouted happily, and jumped to her feet.
“Good girl,” I said automatically, and stroked her sweet angel shaped face.
He had ridden off into the sunset, but I had every intention of finding him and paying him back. This was Arnault, a small desert town on the way to the Sangre de Christo mountains and there was no way a man like that wouldn’t be known by absolutely everybody.
Della-Ray
"He said what?" Nichole, my best friend and roommate, screeched from where she was stood scrubbing a pan in the sink. She sounded like I had startled the life out of her.
Nichole and I left our hometown and moved out here to Arnault, Texas looking for change and a new life. We came because we heard it was a special place, a haven for artists, writers, and creatives.
I wanted to leave our dead-end town and reach for something different, so this was supposed to be our great adventure. We were full of excitement. I was going to write in my free time, and she was going to paint.
Nichole managed to secure herself a dream job as an apprentice with a painter she admired, but to my dismay, I realized I couldn’t write a single word. Every time I found a minute to sit down with my laptop, the words simply didn’t flow. Forget about words flowing, my page stayed completely blank.
I knew it had to do with the fact that I was physically exhausted and constantly harassed with the thoughts of all the bills and debts I’d acquired from the last time Jess fell ill. I told myself the words would come back once I had finished paying my debts, once I had more time to myself when Jess was old enough to go to school.
Jess noisily sucked another strand of spaghetti into her mouth.
I turned my head so she couldn’t see my face, and calmly mouthed to Nichole, “He said he wanted to fuck me.”
"How dare he?" Nichole gasped, the pan clattering into the sink.
I hid my smile at her offended, incredulous expression. Nichole’s morals were set on the very traditional, or maybe even on the Amish dial. She did not approve of sex before marriage, let alone fucking for fucking’s sake. I’d known her since we were both fifteen and in school together and she’d only ever had one boyfriend. She dropped him like a hot potato when he hinted at sex without putting the all-important ring on her finger first.
"What? All because he bought you some milk?” she demanded, utterly furious on my behalf.
"Well, he bought himself some milk. He bought us the groceries."
She looked at me quite speechless.
"He was extremely hot, Nichole,” I said teasingly, to scandalize her further.
Her mouth tightened. "How in God’s name do you manage to attract these creeps?"
I pretended to glance around the room and then back at Jess. "Umm … I must have missed something here. How exactly did I, who was minding my own business in a grocery store, become the problem?”
She sighed and shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce wildly. "Please, Della-Ray. Just stay away from him, okay."
"What makes you think I'll run into him again, or have anything to do with him?”
“Because I know you. Admit it. You’re itching to pay him back, aren’t you?”
“Well, there is that.” I grinned. “And his hot body.”
She snorted. "Stop trying to wind me up by talking like that. I know you don’t mean it, but you’re not from these parts and if you’re even slightly tempted, I should tell you that those kinds of men are lethal. They always break your heart. And if he indeed took a liking to you, especially in—in that way—then he will find you and—and have you. So you make sure to stay away from him at all costs. If you see him again, just immediately run away."
"Well, i
f he’s as dangerous as you say, then what will running away solve?" I teased.
If I were honest, I felt a little discouraged by her crushing words. I’d hoped it would be a giggly, girly conversation between us, something that brought us closer, but it was clear that wasn’t to be. Ever since we moved out here, she seemed to have lost not only her sense of humor, but also her smile.
She turned her back to me and continued washing the pan, but much harder, her curls bouncing with how much pressure she was exerting. Suddenly another thought occurred to her, and she whirled around to face me again. "Was he just a regular dude with a motorbike, or did he seem like one of those biker gangs type?"
"Wow, you didn't think to ask that before you started blasting me?"
"I didn't blast you," she countered calmly. “I was looking out for you. As it happens, they’re both equally dangerous to a woman like you so everything I said stands.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A woman like me?”