Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace)

by K Anne Raines

On the way home, Quentin stopped at Robintino’s for the pizza he owed her. She stayed in the car and leaned her forehead against the passenger window, watching the R on the pizza sign flash on and off. She wondered when she’d see Darius again. It wasn’t a matter of if anymore. They seemed to be running into each other a lot. A smile spread across her face, knowing tonight might be the first of many. If Quentin didn’t ruin it for me, she thought.

  In the short time it took him to grab the pizza and slide back into the car, she was mad he thought so little of her. With the warm pizza in her lap, she watched him from the corner of her eye.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Do you really think I’m like that?”

  “Like what?”

  Like what? Oh, that’s right, the other Quentin was in the backyard back there. This Quentin was sweet, fun, and easy to get along with. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were giving her a headache. “Seriously, Quentin? You practically had me jumping Darius’ bones at the party.”

  “Oh, that’s his name? I’ll try to remember that.” Quentin quickly glanced at her and then back at the road. “Of course I don’t think you’re like that.”

  “Then what was that back there?” she asked. “Whatever that was, wasn’t you. Not the you I know, anyway.” Her mind had a mind of its own and went to his kiss. She hated how that thought accelerated her heart rate, and brushed her pinky across her bottom lip, trying to rub out the memory. It wouldn’t go away, stubbornly remaining rooted right at the very forefront of her brain.

  “I’m … it’s … I—” He stuttered over his words so Grace focused on his nervousness, trying to rid her thoughts of the kiss they’d shared. “I could feel you were feeling the alcohol,” he said slowly, “and I guess—”

  Impatient and flustered, she snapped at him. “Spit it out already!”

  “I would have gone crazy if some guy put his hands on you while you weren’t in your right mind to know if you really wanted him to or not.”

  Quentin means like him. Clearly, she remembered wanting him to touch her, but look where that got her. She almost said as much, but was stopped short by a car she didn’t recognize in the driveway. Adrenaline shot through her body, erasing the remaining effects of the alcohol and whetting her instincts to a razor-sharp clarity. “That better not be Rose,” she spat, shoving the pizza box at Quentin’s chest as she shot out of the car.

  Grace crossed in front of the car and raced through the front door. No one was in the foyer or dining room, but she could faintly hear voices coming from the family room.

  “Grace, wait,” Quentin said, trying to grab her arm. She managed to slip through his hold.

  “Mom, whose car is—” She slid to an abrupt halt, her words stuck in her throat. Quentin ran into her back.

  Laney stood quiet and wide-eyed, a tall man at her side whose handsome features looked so much like her grandfather. Quentin placed his hands on her elbows and tried ushering her back out with low-toned whispers, but she couldn’t hear any of it. She couldn’t see anything but him. The giddiness she felt was quickly eclipsed by fierce anger and betrayal.

  Her mom was the first to break the silence. “Grace, let us—”

  “What are you doing here?” Grace faced the man she knew to be her father directly, ignoring her mother’s plea. When he didn’t answer, Grace counted to ten, and then asked him more forcefully. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Grace—”

  Still disregarding Laney, she cut her off. “Get out of my house!”

  “Let us explain.” Laney looked from Richard to Grace.

  “What’s to explain? He left us. Or did you forget that minor detail?”

  Laney’s face crumbled. “He didn’t leave.”

  Her mother had said and done some stupid things, but this was over the top. “Then I’m curious, Mom. What do you call walking out on your wife and daughter and never looking back for fifteen years, other than abandonment?” The man she knew as Richard Morgan stayed silent, seeming to think about what best to say. Or not say.

  “He left to keep you safe,” Laney cried out.

  Grace threw her hands in the air and gripped her hips. “Oh, that’s classic, a new low even for you. Blame me for what someone else did. You know what? Don’t leave, I will.” She was so used to feeling this from Laney. It barely registered as something that should hurt her feelings.

  “Grace, wait.”

  She grabbed her keys from her purse and flew out the front door.

  “I’ll drive,” came from behind her, Quentin’s voice urgent and insistent.

  Twirling, she pointed a finger at him. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “Knew what?” he said, cowering away from the dangers of her finger.

  “Knew what?” she mimicked sarcastically. “You knew she was seeing him, didn’t you?”

  Defeated and looking more than a little guilty, he ran a hand through the disarray of his black hair, pushing it from his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “How about the truth for once, Quentin?” The key in her hand bit into the flesh of her palm as she clenched it into a fist at her side.

  “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

  “No?” she asked, stabbing him with her icy stare. “I know your job is to protect me and all, but I thought you were also my friend. A friend would have told me.” Grace continued toward her car. When she reached for the door handle, she dipped her chin and kept her back to him. “Don’t come with me. Don’t follow me. Stay here with them … where your true loyalties lie.”

  “Grace.”

  The pain in his voice as he said her name cut a fresh wound across her heart. It begged her to see reason, to know he cared—to stay. She couldn’t. She slid into her car and drove away, and watched as Quentin got smaller in her rearview mirror before turning onto Belmont.

  Grace turned off Belmont and onto Montgomery, heading back to Brian’s. Hopefully her friends were still at the party—the only people in the world who didn’t lie to her. She parked a little ways from the party. Grabbing the handle, she paused for a second to pull herself together, but instead slumped over the steering column, forehead pressed against the wheel.

  The betrayal she felt cut mercilessly like a dull, rusty knife, mutilating all she knew as it dragged across her heart. Her patchwork quilt of a heart was definitely beginning to fray. They were cold, all three of them. She was just a pawn in their sick game.

  Check. Mate.

  When the first tear fell, she was mad at herself for allowing it to fall at all. After the second and third, Grace silently promised herself they were for her and her alone.

  A soft rap against the driver’s window had her gasping for breath as she wiped embarrassingly at her eyes. “Who’s there?” she called out, fogging the window a little from her breath.

  “It’s Darius, Grace. What’s wrong?”

  Once her tears were dried, she saw that it was him. If the window hadn’t been up, he would have had an up close and personal look at the waterworks. She took another swipe at her eyes, and wished she could take a quick peek in a mirror, but went ahead and rolled down the window. “Hi,” she said in a shaky voice. “What are you doing?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  What was she doing? Coming for Emily. But she was at the party with Tommy, and Grace didn’t want to ruin her night too. “I was going to go back inside, but I guess I changed my mind.”

  Darius squatted to the ground, elbows resting on the open window’s ledge, wearing his boyish smile. “I was getting ready to take off. It got kind of boring without you.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you’re leaving, because your night would have gone from boring to unbearable.”

  “I doubt that.” He paused and Grace focused on her hands, but she could feel his eyes on her face as he spoke again. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Rough night?” he pressed.

  “Yeah
,” she snickered. “Something like that.”

  “Hang on,” Darius said, smacking the top of the door as he got up. “I’ll be right back. Stay here!” he yelled as he jogged into the darkness toward Brian’s.

  As soon as he was far enough away, Grace flipped the roof dome light on and checked her makeup in the mirror. Her mascara wasn’t too smeared. In the distance, she could make out the outline of someone running toward her, something in hand. Darius didn’t return to her open window, choosing instead to hop into the passenger seat. One arm was wrapped around a blanket, the other hand looped in the handle of a plastic bag. She eyed the bag curiously, quietly questioning him with her eyes.

  Darius held it up. “Beer.”

  Duh, she should have figured. “And?” she asked.

  “And, we’re going to take these beers and go somewhere.”

  “Where?” Her foot tapped against the gas pedal.

  “You’ll see.” The side of his mouth hooked up. “It’s about ten miles down the road.”

  “What about your car?”

  “It’s a bike and I told Ari to ride it. Lux can drive his truck.”

  Well, okay then. She pulled out and drove past Brian’s. The house looked the same as it had earlier—open, music loud, tons of cars, and people all around. How Darius thought all that was boring, she couldn’t figure. Either way, she was glad he was there, in her car. Oh my gosh, he’s in my car, she shrieked inside. Dangerously, she tried to peek at him out of the corner of her eye, while responsibly watching the road ahead.

  His slight chuckle startled her. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  Both eyes safely back on the road, she smiled. “I am.”

  “Uh-huh. Should I be driving?”

  Grace grabbed the steering wheel at ten and two. “Nope, I got it.”

  A few minutes later, Darius told her to turn right at the next road. She took all the turns he instructed, and finally parked in front of what looked like a huge sheet of black glass—reflections from the half moon and stars skating across the top. As she got out of the car, she was excited to see a lake. She didn’t even know it existed.

  Blanket and bag in hand, Darius walked alongside her. He shook the blanket out, laid it on the ground in front of the still water, and sat down. Captivated with the scenery, Grace didn’t tear her eyes away until she heard the crinkling of plastic, and something cold and wet pressed against the back of her hand.

  “Here.”

  Taking the beer from Darius, she sat down too. “Thank you.” Grace contemplated whether she should drink the beer as she played with the tab on top of the can. “I probably shouldn’t drink this.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It might help though.”

  Tonight. The beer would only numb tonight, but that was enough. She’d take what she could get. Her fingers pulled on the tab, and she waited for the hiss to die down before taking a sip. As the metallic taste of alcohol slid down her throat, she prayed it would make the events of the night fuzzy until all she could think of was the lake before her, and Darius beside her.

  Darius’ voice broke the beautiful silence. “I come here when I need to get away and think.”

  The focus of her eyes stayed on the surface of the lake, as she stared at the twinkling reflections. “I can see why.” A part of the heaviness from earlier lifted from her shoulders, making it seem like they weren’t so weighed down. The only other time she had been drunk, she was a happy drunk. So she’d heard. She didn’t feel so happy the next morning when she swore over the toilet she’d never do it again. The glimmer from the moon caught in the condensation trickling down the can while she held the beer up.

  “It’s crazy,” she said, without turning toward Darius.

  “What is?”

  “This place. It reminds me of somewhere I’ve been in my dreams. Somewhere I love.”

  The sound of grainy sand scratching against the underbelly of the blanket rang out from beneath Darius’ shifting body. “That doesn’t sound so crazy.”

  Done with soaking up the scenery, she turned her head toward Darius, only to be caught up again. But this time, it was from the moon’s reflection in his eyes. She was lost, sucked into the glimmer of his compelling stare. He drew her in like a stupid moth to an alluring, beautiful flame.

  Sounds around her sharpened like background music to a movie, building tension for the scene. Grace’s pulse quickened as everything else in her life fell away, leaving only the world of Darius underneath a dark sky that shone bright against the moon’s vibrant white light. Her breath caught when he leaned toward her, releasing the tension her grip had on the blanket.

  Uncertainty shone in his eyes as he slowly lifted his hand and cupped the side of her face. A shudder ran through her body from his touch, dulling the song of crickets, the whispering breeze across the sand, and rustling of grass until it was all muted. There was nothing else but the two of them, just Darius and her. The warmth of his breath pressed against her lips, and she drew it in like she needed it to breathe. His mouth came closer to hers and she stilled, captivated with anticipation.

  Slowly, his breath brushed upward across her face, until the heat of his lips seared her forehead. And then he kept them there. The growing excitement crashed down all around her. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she wasn’t going to be kissed by Darius. Not on the mouth, anyway.

  Disappointed, she let out a heavy breath, allowing her tensed muscles to relax. Darius brought his face down, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes tightly shut. Swiftly, he kissed her forehead again and sat back up.

  “So, I know you said earlier you didn’t want to talk about it. But I can’t help but ask. Was it the guy from the party?”

  “Yes and no,” she said, still trying to shake her disappointment. “It’s a long story, really.”

  “I don’t have anywhere I need to be until the morning.” His smile was a mixture of encouragement and mischief—confusing.

  A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Hey!” she said. “What time is it?”

  Darius’ gaze went to his watch. “Eleven ten, why?”

  If she dragged this out a little longer, she’d be spending her coming-into-adulthood moment with Darius. “Oh, no reason. It’s just my birthday in fifty minutes is all.” Happy freaking birthday to me, she moped. I can’t even get a kiss.

  “Can I give you something?”

  “Sure,” she said with a shrug.

  Before Grace knew what was happening, he pulled her by the nape of the neck, placing yet another kiss on her forehead. But then he kissed her temple, moved further down, and pressed his lips against her cheek. Her heart completely stopped from the shock, but then stuttered into a fast-paced tempo. Her breathing accelerated.

  Slowly, he pulled away while looking her in the eye, entangling her in his web again. Then he deliberately leaned back into her but didn’t close his eyes, and neither did she. Tenderly, he pressed a feather-light kiss on her lips. No matter how brief, or soft, he took her breath away. In that instant, her world was set aright as she took in how perfectly her lips molded to his. He kissed her one more time on the head and turned his gaze to the lake.

  They both stared across the water, quietly taking the moment in. “Darius?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He ran a finger down the back of her hand before slipping his fingers in hers. “I can’t think of any other way I’d rather have spent my night.”

  Grace had finished another beer before lying back on the blanket. The blurry stars gazed back down at her from above. They shot like streaming confetti tracers across the sky. Oh, they’re not shooting, she thought dreamily. My eyes are moving. She rested the back of her hand against her forehead, shut her eyes, and wished everything would stand still.

  “Come here.” Darius pulled on their entwined fingers. “Lay your head on my chest. The ground’s too uncomfortable.”

  Pathetically, she crawled on h
ands and knees, lying diagonally on the spot where he patted. The stars continued to swirl and streak across the sky, causing her stomach to twist with the sickening movement. Her eyes closed, but in the back of her mind she reminded herself to stay awake.

  “Grace?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled, not daring to open her eyes.

  “Happy birthday.”

  Despite the beer, she felt the pangs she had earlier, which meant the coming day was going to be rough. “Yeah,” she whispered.

  In her delirium, she was still aware enough to realize she’d drank another beer, laughed, cried, and spilled her life’s story in less than fifty minutes. Poor Darius, she thought, before passing out cold.

  She barely came to when he picked her up and carried her to the car, and then again later when he carried her to the front door. She opened her eyes briefly to see Quentin was waiting in the doorway. Surprise, surprise!

  Something was said between them. Grace was too out of it to understand and, thank her lucky stars, too out of it to care. Apparently, they didn’t trust her ability to walk, because Darius passed her mumbling self to Quentin like she was some baby needing coddling. She didn’t care about that either.

  “Night, Darius!” she slurred, dragging her fingers through his as she lay her head against Quentin’s shoulder.

  “Night,” a gruff voice said.

  “He’s a really nice guy, such a good friend.” Unfortunately for Quentin, the beer didn’t wash away her sarcasm. He didn’t say a word. “Are you going to undress me again under the sheets? I’m sure I’ll be passed out again in a couple of minutes if you can hold on.” Still, nothing. “Ooh, do I get a good night kiss? I was pretty upset earlier … perfect reason to give me one. No, wait, I already got one.” Quentin’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t say a word. She giggled, knowing she was pissing him off. True to her word, she was out seconds later.

  Struggling with anger and relief, Quentin chose to lay Grace down on her bed instead of throwing her in a cold shower like she deserved. He watched her sleep, pacing at the foot of her bed.

  At some point in the evening, he had no longer sensed her. It drove him to an irrational craziness. He was preparing to leave to look for her when the seneschal band began to tingle and Grace pulled up minutes later in the driveway. Passed out. Quentin was so angry about numb-nuts bringing her home hammered that he could barely see past the red haze of his sight. The guy was lucky he didn’t touch her, or he would be leaving an appendage or two short.