After a couple more riffs, Falling Down announced they were going to take a break and Distant Echo would be back on in ten minutes. Grace was finally able to suck in enough air to be considered breathing normally. If Darius came over and talked to her, she didn’t know what she’d say or do.
Before she could get too deep in her mental conversation with Darius, Grace was torn from her thoughts, sensing something unusual from somewhere behind her. A tingling current pulsed through her veins, lifting her from her seat. It was different from what she’d felt in the parking lot of her school; not like what she’d felt from Limye either. This was a pull.
She left their table and weaved through the crowded room of mostly seated bodies, stopping at the edge of the seating area to scan the other half of The Board Shop. The sensation wasn’t coming from the people playing games, or from the lone couple sitting at the coffee bar. After seeing nothing, she contemplated going back to her seat when a man, dark as the night sky, crossed her path and went behind the counter in front of the skateboard display. The pull was coming from him. Grace walked up to the counter, feeling no fear, but suddenly at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say, “What the heck are you?”
The dark man broke the ice first, smiling down at her. “There hasn’t been a female in here for a while.”
Grace glanced around the room. “Uh, that’s kind of a weird thing to say. There’s girls everywhere.” Confused, she turned back to him.
“I’m not talking about them. I meant us.”
“Us?”
Placing an elbow on top of the Plexiglas, he sighed. “Okay, I’ll play it your way. What can I do for you?”
Eyeing the dark man’s smirk as he leaned on the counter, Grace sifted through her brain for what words to form. She came up empty, so she improvised. “Actually, I thought you were someone else. My mistake.” She turned to go back to her friends.
“Hold up,” he said, gripping her by the elbow. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Anger rushed through her as she glared at the hand wrapped around her arm. Who did he think he was? She didn’t give him permission to touch her. Yanking her arm free, she channeled all her anger into pinning him with her stare. “That’s because I didn’t give it.”
Surprised, he stood at full height, and backed away from the counter. “Whoa. Okay, I’m sorry.”
She stepped back up to the counter, feeling silly for overreacting. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t bother trying to get her name,” someone behind her said, then leaned on the counter next to her. “She won’t give it.”
Caught off guard, she gawked at the owner of the mystery voice. She snapped her mouth shut and forced a nonchalance she didn’t feel as Darius stared down at her with his intense green eyes and a slight upturn to his mouth. Inside, Grace frowned. She wanted his mouth turning up for different reasons. At her expense wasn’t what she had in mind.
He was teasing her.
She bristled. “Not to strange men yelling at me from a dark street corner.” Flirty and mysterious was what she was actually going for, not hard to get. But whatever.
“Well, I didn’t yell at you from a dark street corner,” the guy behind the counter said. “And I still didn’t get your name.”
Grace gripped her hips with angry hands. “No, you put your hands on me. That’s not okay.”
The guy threw his hands back in the air. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”
“Let’s play nice,” Darius said, staring down at Grace. “I’m Darius, in case you forgot.” The corners of his mouth hooked upward again. Seriously, how could she forget? “This is Mathias.” He waved a hand in Mathias’ direction. “Mathias, this is—”
He held out a hand expectantly as they both waited, anticipating a name. She had to give Darius credit for trying. The sexual menace he threw off made every nerve ending zing, reminding Grace why he was hazardous for her health. He’d probably played flirty little games countless times before. Grace couldn’t deny the draw to him, or the way his voice made her want to give everything over to him, but she couldn’t afford another compound fracture to her heart. Lately, her heart resembled a patchwork quilt, held together by minor repairs to the stitching.
The stitch of hope wouldn’t hold her heart together forever though. Grace thought it ironic she’d literally held hope in her hands at the bank the other day, and yet she wasn’t sure if she could truly believe in it. All week she’d hoped she’d see Darius again, but hope of a different kind had her turning to walk away. She surprised even herself. “Nice try. I have to get back to my friends.” For the second time, she tried to get back to her seat, but Darius stepped into her path.
“Are you seriously going to make me beg, because I’ll get down on my knees right here if that’s what it takes.”
She watched in embarrassment as he kneeled on the ground before her, hands together in a prayerful, pleading clasp. “Please—”
“Alright,” Grace forced through tight lips, tugging on the shoulder of his shirt. “Get up!”
“Alright what?” His lips turned up with sexual promise.
She glowered down at him. “Alright, I’ll tell you my stupid name if you get up.”
Darius stood, smirking victory as if getting what he came for. Her glare followed him upward. After a couple of very long and awkward minutes, he moved like he was about to get back down on his knees.
“Okay! Geesh.” Irritated, she stared past him, settling on the front door. Nothing angered her more than being told what to do, except for being manipulated. He was definitely yanking her chain. Obviously, Darius had played the game before, like she figured. In her peripheral vision, she could see his hands rise from his sides, joining together in another plea. As soon as her eyes met his, Grace knew she was in trouble. Unable to control it anymore, she gave in with a chuckle at his pathetic attempt at batting his eyes. God help me, she thought as she cast her eyes heavenward.
Extending her hand, she offered her name. “Grace.”
The planes of his face softened as he held her hand in his. The warmth of his touch shot to her soul. “Is that your real name, or the name you give to creeps you don’t ever want to see again?” Then he laughed, which only drew her in more.
“I figure I’ll run into you again. The fake one won’t work for very long,” she managed through her own laughter; however, hers didn’t come off as cool like his. It was more like a nervous adolescent girl’s chortle. Perfect!
Tommy’s voice rang out over the speakers, announcing the song that would begin their second set.
“I’ve got to get back to my seat. It was nice talking to you again, Darius.”
“I’ll see you around.” His lips lifted into his hypnotic boyish grin. Walk away, Grace.
Shaking her head to expel the thoughts her mind tried to conjure, she went back to her seat. Emily watched her sit with a quizzing gaze. Grace shrugged her shoulders. Zeke had passed his time visiting with Brian and Leah, but made his way next to Grace as soon as he noticed she was back. His eyebrows lifted in a “where were you” look. She just smiled, inside and out.
She’d run into Darius again just like she wanted, however, she was torn in two about it. On one hand, she wanted to walk along the dangerous, mysterious side of the road with him. While on the other, she wanted to run to Safety Boulevard away from him and the broken heart guys like him tended to leave in their wake.
Her mind wandered to the man somewhere outside watching over her. She wasn’t torn two ways, she was torn three. There were impossibilities in each situation. It made her sad to think about it, even though she was angry at Quentin. No longer hearing the music, she stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. She seriously didn’t understand how she could be with anyone. Not now. Not after knowing what and who she was.
A thought suddenly struck her. Darius had grabbed her hand and she’d felt nothing, sensed nothing. Impossible. She turned her head, raking her gaze from wall to wall. It wasn’t until she swi
veled completely around in her seat that she finally found what she was looking for. Darius was leaning against the counter like he had been against the building; arms folded across his chest, feet crossed on the floor. He wasn’t watching Distant Echo. The laser beam of his gaze was zeroed in on her. The longer they stared at each other, the more intense the green of his eyes burned.
Grace focused on her breathing and staying put in her seat as she forced herself back around. She didn’t make eye contact with him again until he was directly in front of her. Still, she tried focusing on everything—anything—else on the stage, but his eyes. The few times she gave in to her mind’s pressure, she was rewarded with boyish grins and sexy winks. No matter how intrigued she was about her inability to feel his emotions, self-preservation was more important. She promised herself she’d steer clear of him. She had to.
When both bands called it a night, Grace was glad it was time to get out of there. Her heart and mind were barraged by conflicting thoughts and emotions, and she couldn’t stand still. Again and again, her eyes went to the front door with longing—freedom was so close.
Irritated that no one was moving fast enough toward the door, she crossed her arms and tapped her toe. Zeke stood next to her, keeping a friendly distance, and when he grinned her way, Grace pulled her lips back in a thin response. Tommy said his good-byes to the other band members and joined Grace and their friends, putting an arm around Emily’s shoulder. “Ready, babe?” Tommy kissed Emily on the eyebrow.
“Absolutely,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.
The group sounded like a swarm of bees talking and laughing as they finally made their way to the door. Zeke and Brian were trying to talk them into going to a restaurant up the road when Darius stepped in their path.
“My man,” he said, holding a hand out to Tommy. “You guys rocked it tonight.” They did their little hand-shake and sideways shoulder-bump hug all men seem to know.
“Thanks, dude. That was fresh. What a rush.”
“Well, maybe Mathias will invite you back soon. Would you guys be up for that?”
Tommy let loose with a big smile. “Sure thing, dude!”
Grace turned toward the exit and gave her friends a mental command to follow her, hoping they’d take the hint. Their group began moving again, sweeping her up in their camaraderie as they made their way outside.
“Good night, Grace,” Darius called out from behind her, again.
Not trusting herself to turn around, she continued walking and kept her eyes forward while trying to shoo her friends to keep moving. “Night!” Grace waved a hand from slightly above her head.
Outside the door, Grace said a quick good-bye to Zeke and Brian and hurried across the street to wait by the passenger door of the Blazer. Tommy and Emily finished their conversation and crossed the street. Tommy pushed the unlock button on the key fob and Grace jumped in before he and Emily even reached the car. Emily had barely shut the door before twisting her head in what seemed like an uncomfortable position in order to pin Grace with an uncompromising stare. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?” Grace said, trying to pull off oblivious.
Emily eyed her, making Grace squirm in her seat. “Oh, whatever.” Emily wasn’t buying it. Grace could never get anything past her. “How do you know Darius?”
“I don’t,” Grace replied. At that, Tommy swiveled in his seat, both their faces letting her know that she hadn’t convinced either of them. Grace sighed. “I don’t know him, I just met him.”
Emily flipped down the visor, concentrating on putting more strawberries and cream on her lips. “Oh, you like him,” Emily teased.
“I do not!”
Emily’s hand fell from her face, as she fixed her gaze on Grace through the mirror. “You so do too!”
“Believe what you want.” Grace crossed her arms and stared out the window, uncomfortably aware that her actions were a dead giveaway that Emily had nailed it.
“Well, you’ve certainly got your hands full.” Emily chuckled. “Quentin, Zeke, and now Darius. Good luck with that one!”
“Zeke is just a friend, which I think I’ve been pretty clear about.”
Emily turned forward, smiling, as Tommy snorted and stifled a similar grin from his side of the vehicle. “Mm-hmm,” Emily murmured.
By the time Leah squeezed into the car, Grace was not up for talking. Leah filled the time driving back to Woods Cross gushing about Brian’s new awareness of her. This time Grace was grateful for the ease with which Leah chattered. Periodically, Grace glanced over at Leah to give the impression she was listening when in actuality, all she could do was think about touching Darius, and the strange normalcy of it. Sadness consumed her as she mourned the relationship she could never have. She wasn’t normal. She hated being her.
Impending doom was the gripping feeling Quentin couldn’t shake as he followed Tommy’s Blazer from three cars back. Grace’s emotions were all over the map again, making it especially difficult to determine the actual feeling crushing his chest.
Road signs advised drivers of the speed limit slowing just up ahead, a warning of caution for a four-way stop light on the highway. Strategically, Quentin weaved through the few cars ahead of him, maneuvering his way behind the car directly behind the Blazer. His getting closer didn’t help lessen his worry; it magnified it. He grabbed his cell phone, and called Grace.
“Come on, pick up!” he yelled out loud.
Something was wrong.
“Hello?”
“Grace!”
That’s when it happened, his biggest nightmare. He watched helplessly as Tommy’s Blazer entered the intersection as a black SUV from the cross traffic accelerated, plowing into the section behind the passenger-side quarter panel, tossing the Blazer in the air to land on its side. The vehicle continued its momentum, scraping with sparked tracers across the pavement into the on-coming traffic on the opposite side of the highway. Quentin and all the other vehicles behind him skidded to a halt. The car directly in front of him veered right, driving off the shoulder to avoid the collision.
His heart would have stopped if it could. It constricted painfully in his chest. Grace. With all of his weight, he slammed his body against the door, pushing it open. Squealing tires and burning rubber assaulted his ears and olfactory senses the moment his feet hit the pavement. With one hand he reached for his blade, then took off with inhuman speed to the SUV responsible for the accident. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. All he cared about was Grace and whoever was responsible. Ripping the driver’s side door off its hinges, he tossed it aside like a crumpled piece of paper. Slumped over the seat against the steering wheel was a Fallen. They’d found her.
Not understanding why the driver couldn’t move, Quentin grabbed him and slammed him back against the seat. “You’ve come to help me, have you?” the Fallen said with an evil sneer.
Glancing down, Quentin saw that his legs were crushed and stuck under the smashed steering column and dashboard. A tempting thought shot through his mind. The enemy was stuck, which meant he wasn’t going anywhere. Quentin could make him pay—slowly and painfully. Fallen and Guardian didn’t die, not by human means, but they could surely be hurt. Every sick method of torture rushed to the forefront of his mind.
Quentin’s smile turned equally evil. “Actually, I have.”
The blade’s hilt gripped tightly in his hand, he swung it over his head and slammed it into the man’s groin, and the Fallen shrieked in pain. Quentin knew he could have sliced him anywhere and the Fallen would have appeared to have died, sending his soul back to his holding chamber in hell; however, Quentin felt Grace’s pain and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mete out a little justice on the responsible party. He wanted to inflict more, but he didn’t have time for pleasantries. The groin seemed like an excruciatingly painful, but quick spot.
He pulled himself away from the SUV, crossing the intersection to the Blazer with a few strides. Only a couple of moment
s had passed since he’d arrived at the accident, but it felt like an eternity. Not knowing how badly the others were hurt, he refrained from righting the vehicle. Squatting slightly, he powered himself over the vehicle, ripping Grace’s mangled door from its hinges and pulling it with him as he rolled to the other side. Quentin opened his hand and the hunk of metal clanked loudly on the concrete beside him. With both hands, he tested the stability of the Blazer on its side. Satisfied it wasn’t going anywhere, he leapt atop it, one foot on the top of Grace’s door frame, the other on the bottom.
Grace and Emily were unconscious. Tommy moaned and Leah cried with confusion. He knew it seemed harsh, but he couldn’t worry about the welfare of the others; there was no time. Sirens screamed in the distance. From past experience, he knew just because someone wore a badge didn’t mean they were at the scene to help. The Fallen could be anywhere, or anyone.
He peered down at Grace and then around to her friends, as he took his blade and gently cut her seatbelt. With lightning speed, he bent inside and gently slipped his arms under her shoulders and legs, and pulled her out. Before leaping off, he told the others they’d be okay and help was on the way. As he was running back to his Jag, ignoring all the gasping onlookers, Grace came to and began mumbling about her friends.
“It’s okay, Grace, I’ve got you. Your friends are safe.”
Relief washed over him as he buckled her into the passenger seat of his car. She was safe and was going to be alright.
Shoving the gear in drive, he slowly made his way through the stalled cars surrounding the accident. Grace came to completely, trying to make sense of the wreckage. When she noticed Tommy’s car, Quentin’s seneschal band twisted with fear.
“Emily,” she whispered. “Stop the car!” she screamed.
“I can’t,” he said tersely. He glanced at Grace and, sensing her resistance, gentled his voice in an attempt to sound sympathetic, but firm. “I have to get you home. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 15
