The Falling of Love (The Falling Series Book 1)

by Marisa Oldham

  “Are you sure?”

  “He needs to get back into the shower and then rest.”

  Grace can see the rage in Jaden’s eyes. “I need to go check on him.”

  Jaden shakes his head as he walks away flinging his hands in the air. Grace walks back into the bathroom as Ian is crawling out of the tub, soaked.

  “What is wrong with you?” she shouts. “What are you trying to do to yourself?”

  Ian rushes at her, grabs her by her throat, and slams her against the bathroom door.

  “Shut your fucking mouth, Grace. Shut your fucking mouth now!”

  She is terrified of him. He has never once laid a hand on her in such a violent manner. The enraged look in his eyes is horrifying.

  Ian stops yelling at her and seems to catch a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, his hands pinning Grace up against the bathroom wall, and the look on his face shakes her to her core. He releases her, and she rapidly throws her hands over her throat as she wheezes. With astonishment written all over his face, Ian runs out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.

  Jaden runs into the bathroom and throws his arms around Grace.

  “What the hell happened?” he shouts.

  Grace holds tightly onto Jaden as she tries to make sense of what just went on. “We have to do something to make him stop, Jaden. We can’t let him keep doing this to himself.”

  “We will. We’ll talk to him later. Let’s let him calm down.”

  Grace nuzzles her head into Jaden’s neck and sobs.

  “I don’t need help!” Ian screams. “I can do this on my own.”

  Ian looks at Grace and Jaden sitting across from him at the dining room table, both of their faces covered in disappointment and shame. He knew the time was coming when they were going to attack him for what happened at Grandpa Joe’s service, but he did not expect it to be this soon. All the guests have retreated from Grandpa Joe’s home, leaving the house cold and quiet. Only the sounds of Grace and Jaden’s voices are pounding in Ian’s ears. He lifts his head from the table, his eyes burning red.

  “You look horrible!” Jaden bursts out.

  Grace walks over and pulls a chair up next to Ian.

  “We’re worried about your health, Ian. I can’t lose you,” she cries.

  Ian looks at Grace, then at Jaden who has nothing but disgust on his face. “It won’t happen again,” he says, ashamed.

  Ian wipes Grace’s tears from her cheeks and brushes her stray hairs behind her ears. Hurting her like this was never part of his plan. The Ian that he is when he is high, is a self-destructive and vicious person and he hates this version of himself. He never wants to be even remotely as cruel as his father is.

  It has been a few days since Grace and Jaden’s attempted intervention with Ian, yet it still weighs heavily on her mind. When she opens the door to let Becca in she cannot stop the tears that trickle out.

  “Awe, kitten, it’s going to be okay,” Becca says, as she throws her arms around Grace and then kisses each of her cheeks.

  “I know. I just…it’s just nice to have a friend to talk to. Let’s go sit in the living room.”

  They take a seat on the couch and Becca takes Grace’s hand into hers. “So, how’s it been going?”

  Grace smiles. She thinks about the intervention and how after a few hours, Ian finally came around and gave them all of the unused drugs he had.

  “It’s been going really good. Ian was sick for a few days, which was totally awful, but he’s doing so much better now. He even went to work today.”

  Becca’s lips scrunch up to the side and her eyes narrow.

  “Really, Bec, he’s like the old Ian again.”

  “I hope so for your sake.”

  “I think the talk we had with him woke him up. Last night he told me that he felt so much better now that he’s clean.”

  Becca’s smile relieves Grace. “Did you bring your portfolio?” Grace asks, trying to divert the conversation away from Ian.

  Grace sits on her couch, barely able to contain the envy, as she flips through Becca’s modeling portfolio.

  “I’m so excited to be going back to Paris!” Becca says, leaning over her shoulder.

  Jealousy erupts in the pit of Grace’s stomach.

  Becca points to the photograph Grace has flipped to. “This was shot in front of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “That’s so cool, Becca! I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. It’s my dream.” Looking through the photographs and listening to Becca talk about them, helps Grace to keep her mind off Ian for the moment.

  “We need to hook you up with my agency there. They’ll die over you!”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Select.” Becca says, sounding proud. “It’s pronounced Sélectionner in French. It’s one of Europe’s top agencies.”

  Grace resumes flipping through the pages, feeling more and more astonished at the amazing photographs. Her concentration is broken when Ian comes crashing through the front door and into the living room.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, as he plops onto the couch in between them.

  A strong odor comes from him and Grace sniffs the air. “Are you drunk?”

  “No…but I’m getting there.” He laughs.

  Becca scoots away from Ian with a disgusted look on her face and Grace is completely embarrassed.

  Ian tugs on Grace’s arm. “Come and give me a big kiss, baby.”

  “Ian, stop it. You’re hurting me.”

  Ian lets go of her arm. His head falls back up against the sofa and he moans in a very low tone that she can barely register.

  “I think he’s high again, Grace,” Becca says, as she scoots even further away from him. “I don’t think he’s just drunk.”

  Grace had hoped to keep this part of her life a secret from her best friend, but after what happened a few days ago at Grandpa Joe’s funeral, she broke down and confessed to her. She got everything but comfort from her. Becca lashed out at Grace, telling her that she needed to leave Ian.

  Becca stands. “Look, I gotta go. I don’t want to be around him when he’s like this. I’ve had experience with people like him and I don’t care to involve myself in all that ever again.”

  “What do you mean, ‘people like him’?” Grace asks, feeling defensive.

  “I mean, your boyfriend is high as a kite. Look at him, Grace. He’s a junkie.”

  Grace turns her eyes away from Becca and focuses on Ian. He looks just like he did the day of Grandpa Joe’s funeral. His eyes are rolled up into the back of his head and his mouth is slack, but this time he also smells like he has been nursing a bottle of whiskey.

  “Gotta jet, Grace. I can’t be around this crap. You need to get him some professional help.”

  “I know.” Mortified, Grace lowers her head.

  Becca snatches her portfolio out of Grace’s hands and spins on her heels.

  “Wait, Becca! Are you still picking me up tomorrow? We never talked about going shopping.”

  “Grace, until you either dump that asshole, druggie loser, or he gets his act together, we just can’t be friends. My advice to you is to dump his sorry ass. All he’ll do is bring you down.”

  “Don’t talk about him like that!”

  “You need to wake up and smell the coffee, girlfriend.”

  “You need to shut up!”

  Becca heads for the door, stops, and turns to face Grace, “You know, I thought you were a smart girl. I thought you had a good head on those pretty shoulders of yours. Turns out you’re just dumb. Looks like that little intervention of yours worked wonders.”

  “Get out!”

  “I was already on my way, kitten.”

  Becca slams the door and Ian pops his head up. “Where’d the supermodel go?” he asks, sounding sarcastic and dazedly looking around.

  “Home,” Grace says, before she leaves the room feeling completely defeated.

  Chapter 13

  Grace has set
tled into her new routine well. College life is vastly different from the life she was living as a high school student, just a couple of months ago. Cash is tight for her and Ian as he has been working fewer hours at the garage and still refuses to let her work. Grace is only taking two classes due to the lack of funds. The only income she has for school is her government loan and grant money that she gets every quarter.

  After the fiasco with Becca, Grace sat down with Ian and once more she begged him to stop using drugs. She thought she would have a fight on her hands, but instead Ian told her that he wanted to get clean. He pleaded with her to help him. That was exactly what she did. Several days passed as she watched Ian suffer through a grueling detox. For two months now, Ian has been drug free and back to himself.

  Grace has tried to reconcile with Becca, but Becca refuses to believe that Ian can kick his habit without professional help and will not associate with Grace until she puts Ian in rehab or leaves him.

  Grace heads up the walkway to the old Victorian, and she sees a package on the front porch. Her stomach ties into knots as she walks closer to it. She anticipates what the package might be with every step she takes. The name on the package is hers. In the return address spot is a beautiful silver logo with delicate swirls and the words ElegantBridal.com. She slowly lifts the package and takes a deep breath, as she walks inside.

  The house is empty, quiet, and dark. Grace sets her books, the package, and her purse on the dining room table, and then makes her rounds through the house, opening the curtains and windows, letting in bright light and a cool breeze. 4:30, she thinks, as she looks at the tall grandfather clock in the hallway. Better get dinner going before the boys get home. Grace grabs the package and runs up to her room, burying it behind a clothes basket in her closet, and then heads downstairs to begin making dinner.

  “Wanna eat on the porch tonight, babe?” asks Ian. He walks up behind Grace and wraps his arms around her as she puts the finishing touches on her spaghetti dinner.

  “Sure, if that’s what you guys want.”

  “It’s beautiful out, and Jaden is already out there. He’s writing a song. I don’t think we’ll get him to move in here,” Ian says, with a smile, before he leans in close to her neck and places his lips on her.

  She hums while he moves them down her neck and lands them on her shoulder where he sucks and runs his tongue across her skin.

  “Well then, that sounds great,” she says, barely able to get the words out. Leaning her body up against his she lets her head fall back. His fingers run up and down her arms and chills sweep over her body.

  He moves in close to her ear, takes her earlobe into his teeth and bites down.

  “Uh, Ian.”

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  Grace turns to face him and places her hand on his face. She has never seen a boy so beautiful. Never has anyone else made her heart beat the way he does. Running her hand across his face she does not let her eyes leave his. “I love you, too.”

  “I better let you finish dinner.”

  He pats her on the butt and she jumps a bit from the shock and lets out a squeal.

  Once she is alone again, she looks up to the ceiling and clasps her hands together. “Thank you for bringing back my Ian.”

  The three of them sit on the porch eating their spaghetti dinner and chatting about their days. Grace cherishes these moments that they have together. She lets out a massive sigh of relief. Everything seems to be back to normal.

  “I’m so glad I have you guys with me,” says Jaden, sincerely. “You guys are my family, man. It’s just so good to have you here. I couldn’t have made it through losing Gramps without you both.”

  As they savor their last bites of their dinner, the other band members show up for rehearsal. They make small talk with Grace before they all shuffle into the garage. This is Grace’s opportunity to look at her dress.

  After she cleans up the dishes from dinner, she runs up the stairs with excitement filling her. She had tried this exact same dress on when she went to Beverly Hills with Becca before their falling out to go bridal gown shopping, but it was too expensive at the bridal boutique. Grace searched and searched and was finally able to find a steal on the dress online.

  “I hope it fits,” Grace says to herself, as she reaches for the dress in the back of her closet. She slowly pulls the dress out of its packaging, taking care not to damage it. She hears the music blaring from the garage, Ian’s divine voice filling the night air. She slips off her clothes and steps into the dress. She holds up the ends and carefully walks over to the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She stands there as she runs her hands down her sides, admiring her figure in the dress. “It fits,” she says, aloud. “It fits!” Not wanting to take the dress off she stays in it while she practicing different hairstyles that she’s seen in bridal magazines.

  About an hour later, the music from the garage stops and she hurries to the closet and takes the dress off as delicately as she can. A few moments later she hears Ian’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

  “Whatcha up to in here, babe?” asks Ian, coming into the room.

  Grace is barely closing the closet door, standing there in only her bra and panties, feeling as though she looks very suspicious when Ian walks in.

  “Oh nothing,” she teases.

  Ian walks to her and pulls her arms out in front of her while his eyes scan her from head to toe. His pupils dilate as his tongue skims his lower lip and all Grace wants to do is take it into her mouth. Her cheeks flush as he holds his eyes on her.

  “You look guilty,” he says, with an eyebrow raised.

  “Who me?” she teases, again. “I was just trying to find something to wear to bed.”

  His eyes flash to the clock next to their bed. “Gracie, it’s only 8:30. You’re going to bed?”

  “No, I just wanted to get comfortable. I have homework, and I was going to work on it in bed,” she says, as she walks to her dresser.

  “Your ass looks really hot in those panties,” she hears him call to her from behind.

  “Oh, stop.”

  “Me? Stop? Never,” he says, as he follows her.

  Grace gazes at Ian in the mirror standing behind her, as he admires her butt. She knows the look he gives her and she has no doubt that he wants her. His tongue glides over his bottom lip, as he walks closer. Putting a hand on each of her hips, he pulls her right up against him.

  “You look beautiful just how you are, babe. You don’t need to find something to wear.”

  With a thrust, he pulls her body backwards making her butt stick out and then pushes her torso onto the dresser aggressively. Her breasts crush against the wood. Though forceful and painful, it fills her with excitement. Ian grabs her long blonde hair in his fist and gives it a tug, causing her head to rise off the dresser.

  “Oh, Ian!” she cries, with desire heating her throat.

  He tugs her hair again and then whacks her butt cheek with the palm of his hand. She lets out a little yelp. The smack is agonizingly delightful, and fills her with a heavy need for him. He knots her long hair around his fist, twisting it around and around his hand, then pulls her hair harder. With his pointer finger on his other hand he traces the outline of her panties, as he tugs on her hair. He smacks her butt again, this time harder.

  He slides his finger under the elastic of her panties, and slips them off. “Your ass has my hand prints all over it. Do you have any idea how hard that makes me?”

  He smacks her butt again, making it burn deliciously. Putting his knee in between her thighs, he pushes her legs open, spreading her wide. Grace looks at the two of them in the mirror and sees Ian also checking out their reflection. Ecstasy consumes Grace not only from what she sees, but knowing that Ian is also watching them.

  Grace feels him fumbling behind her with the button on his jeans. The sound of his zipper coming down and his movements from taking off his jeans makes her mouth water. Ian rubs his knee against the slick wetness between her l
egs. “You’re dripping wet, baby.”

  He rams his knee up against her causing her to moan loudly from pleasure. He bends over her and trails kisses along her shoulders to her back, all the while rubbing his knee against her. Her body pulses with longing for him. He tugs at her hair again and slips his fingers inside her. Grace watches Ian in the mirror and he returns her seductive stare, ecstasy taking over both of their expressions.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks her, sternly.

  His words come as a shock. He has never spoken to her in this way, but she likes it.

  She groans out, “Yes!”

  “Say it,” he whispers, in her ear seductively.

  What? She thinks, as she tries to whip her head around to look at him. Her hair still wrapped tightly in his fist, he gives a hard and painful tug.

  “Say it, Grace. Do you want me to fuck you?”

  Slowly he removes his fingers from her then slaps her butt harder, and she cries out, “Yes! I want you to fuck me.”

  He turns her head to look at him by twisting her hair tighter around his fist and pulling until she faces him. “Open your mouth.”

  She does as he asks. She will do anything for this boy. He licks one of his fingers and then puts both of his wet fingers in her mouth. He closes his eyes and breathes out a heavy moan filled with the sounds of pleasure. He grabs her by her waist and whips her around so that she is facing him. He looks at her for a moment, deep sparkling blue eyes piercing into hers.

  “I love you so fucking much, Gracie,” he whispers, heavily.

  “I love you, too.”

  Ian lifts her up as if he is a groom carrying his bride over the threshold and sits her on an old Swedish Windsor wooden chair they have stowed away in the corner of their room. The chair has no arms, only wooden spokes on the back and it creaks as he gently sits Grace on it. He grabs her calves and pulls her until her bottom is hanging off the edge of the chair. He takes in deep longing breaths, and he runs his nose, slowly, up and down her inner thighs. This makes Grace quiver with an almost uneasy excitement.