Breaking Lacy (Nick & Lacy Book 1)

by Tabitha Drake

  I didn’t realize I had stopped medicating his injury and stood there with my fingers buried in his hair, merely staring blankly back at him in the mirror, until my gaze came to rest on his curled lips.

  My cheeks flushed, and the need to break the hold of his spell overpowered me. I screwed the cap back on the tube of ointment and ruffled his hair. “All done, tough guy.”

  In front of him, on top of my vanity, sat my jewelry box. I reached for it and knelt on the floor by his knees to sort through dozens of pairs of earrings, finally finding the one I was looking for.

  “Here, I saved this for you,” I said, pulling out a tiny gold hoop. “Momma gave me this pair for my birthday three years ago. I lost the match to it during gym class one day last week.” I held it up to his ear, and we both studied his reflection. “You can have it if it’s not too girly for you.”

  He pulled out the diamond stud that he wore. “Go ahead. Let’s see how she looks.”

  As I threaded the hoop through the hole in his ear, to disguise my nervousness, I rambled. “I used to save all my missed matches, thinking Kevin would pierce his ear too, but I gave up and threw them all out a few months ago. I don’t know why I thought of you and decided to keep this one. I think I just didn’t want to throw away something that momma gave me.”

  I sat back on my heel and smiled when I finished. “You like?”

  He pushed his hair away and nodded. “I do. Thank you. I promise I won’t let anything happen to it, Lace.”

  I stood up quickly. I’d never felt so anxious and flustered in my life as I felt when he stared at me, and my cheeks would have flushed an even brighter shade of red if I had to endure one more second of his scrutiny.

  “Rhonda told me this morning on our way back from shopping that you and Chris were moving into your new house. I bet you’re excited about that,” I said, just to say something that might remedy the sudden flutter in my chest.

  “Yep. We got the boxes and furniture moved in, but that was it before we decided to take a break and come home.” When I didn’t turn away from the window, he went on. “You want me to leave so you can go up?”

  I turned back to him and frowned. “I was just about to do that when you drove up. I was hoping you’d feel like going up with me, but I guess you don’t with your head and all.”

  “You kidding? I’m rough and tough, remember?”

  “You sure?”

  “Grab a blanket, though, ’cause it’s cold out.”

  “I’m prepared.” I went to the far side of my bed and unplugged the electric blanket that I usually used on colder nights.

  We made our way out the window up to the roof, where we sat side by side, pulling the blanket around us both like an enormous shawl.

  “This blanket is barely big enough. I swear I won’t bite,” he joked, when I was careful not to sit too close.

  “I know. I didn’t think you wanted me in your lap, though,” I said with a nervous chuckle. I scooted closer until our arms and knees pressed together and the blanket engulfed us fully in its warmth. “That better?”

  “Good thing neither one of us stink.”

  “Indeed.” It was true too. Nick always smelled good. He wore the most wonderful cologne, a divinely spicy musk. The first time I ever smelled it on him I had hoped Kevin would wear it as well, but he never did.

  “So, who did that to you?”

  “Promise you won’t laugh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Claire.”

  I tried to suppress a giggle but failed. “Well, that tough guy thing is definitely shot all to heck now.”

  “She called me a prick and said I was a lousy fu-” He cut himself off and glanced over with an apologetic grin. “Anyway, I had a few insults of my own that pissed her off pretty good.”

  “Oh, Nick, you didn’t!” I shook my head, disappointed that he would sink to Claire’s level of immaturity and name-calling. Then a mental image of a beer-bottle-wielding Claire struck me, and I laughed again.

  “Fair-weather pity. I see how you are. It was okay when you thought I got pounded by a dude, but it’s funny when you find out it was a chick, eh?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I said, trying to control my helpless fit of giggles.

  He pretended to scowl, but his eyes gave away his own humor. “You’re a turd, you know that?”

  Once our laughter died, we both stared up at the sky in silence for a few moments, Nick enjoying the star-studded horizon, no doubt, while I shamelessly reveled in his scent.

  “It smells like snow,” he said softly.

  “You think?”

  “I painted a landscape of your oak tree and the yard covered in snow.”

  “I never saw that one. What did you do with it?”

  “Entered it in an art fair last spring. A lady over in Asheville paid three hundred for it.”

  I stared over at him in shock. “You never told anyone?”

  He shrugged and brought his gaze from the heavens down to me. “No big deal.”

  “Are you crazy? No big deal? Nick, that’s amazing!”

  I couldn’t believe he had sold one of his paintings and wouldn’t tell anyone to share in such a significant accomplishment. Then again, Nick had always been modest when it came to his art. I attributed it to the same fear of rejection that I always felt with my music.

  “I am so proud of you, Nick. I’m happy for you.”

  “I knew you would be.”

  When he stared back at me for the longest moment, my nervousness returned. He must have sensed this, for he smiled and looked back up to the stars.

  “I’ll tell ya, Lace, I never pegged you for the type to be sneaking boys up to her room in the middle of the night,” he kidded.

  “Boredom brings out my alternate personality, I guess.”

  “Boredom, eh?” he asked curiously. “Care if I smoke?”

  “It’s your lungs.”

  “It’s a bad habit, I know. Hard as hell to quit, though.” I watched as he pulled out a cigarette, shamefully mesmerized by his lips as they parted enough for the stick to dangle while he lit it. He turned his head to blow out a cloud of smoke before facing me again. “So, what’s this boredom you speak of? No creative juices flowing lately?”

  “Daddy won’t let me play my piano anymore,” I blurted out, and instantly regretted it.

  Nick

  “Wait. What?”

  Instead of elaborating, Lacy stared blankly out over our backyard at nothing but whatever she saw in her mind.

  “Lace, look at me.” When she couldn’t or wouldn’t, I took her chin and forced her to. “What do you mean he won’t let you play?”

  “He said it reminds him too much of momma. That it torments him,” she said, her eyes glistening.

  I put a comforting arm around her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to notice. “You can still play in the evenings before he gets home. He may not want to listen while you play anymore, but he knows how important your music is and-”

  She shook her head, looking up at me with uncertainty for a moment. “If I tell you something, will you swear you won’t tell Andy or Rhonda?”

  I let out a slow sigh as I sized her up. “Lace, if there’s something wrong I can’t just-”

  “Never mind,” she said, turning her attention back to the top of the oak tree in the yard.

  “No, Lace,” I hurried on when I realized she had just estranged herself from me for fear that she couldn’t trust me. The image of the way Jerry had held Lacy that night was still etched too clearly in my mind to risk alienating her if there was something she needed to confide. “Okay, I promise I won’t tell my parents, but I can’t promise that I won’t do anything about it myself if I think your dad might hurt you.”

  “Daddy wouldn’t hurt me,” she said quietly.

  “He’s hurting you now.”

  When she looked back to me, I knew whatever she had to say was so important that she struggled with the words to begin.

  After a m
oment she finally said, “Don’t worry about me. But daddy’s been acting strangely. It’s not him coming home late that worries me. It’s how he behaves when he is home.”

  She went on to describe how her father’s grief had turned into an obsession, about the downstairs bedroom and what Jerry had done to the rest of the house. How he stayed out late every night, and then when he was home, how he refused to look at her or interact with her in any way. How when he allowed her to hug him once, he had shoved her away.

  Though Lacy probably thought her father hated her because she reminded him so much of Grace, Jerry’s actions confirmed my suspicions. I was only grateful that he still had the good judgment to keep Lacy at a distance, which was also most likely why he stayed away from home so much lately too.

  “Is that it?” I asked when she finished. “He hasn’t hurt you while he was drunk, has he?”

  The horror in her eyes said enough. “No! Daddy has never hit me. Even when I was little, he never spanked me.”

  I tried to find the words to broach my real concerns but decided to leave well enough alone.

  She tried to wipe a rebel tear away before I could see it but was unsuccessful. I guided her head to my shoulder. “Lace, you will be happy again someday.” She shook her head in denial, and I tightened my protective hold on her. “Tonight, you may see yourself still lonely and miserable six months from now, but it’ll surprise you how happy you’re gonna be.” With me, I added to myself, I’ll make you happy. She lifted her head to look at me with doubt. “I bet my life on it.”

  She lowered her head back to my shoulder, and after sitting stiff and rigid for a few seconds, she relaxed against me, allowing me a few moments to thrill in how soft her hair felt against my cheek. I closed my eyes and inhaled her jasmine perfume, feeling deep down in my core that holding her like this was right and as it should be, regardless of any of my deceits that made such a moment possible. The longer we sat together without moving or speaking, though, the urge to tip her chin and kiss her grew stronger until I knew if I didn’t pull away I might risk making such an impulsive mistake. It was still too soon for that. Yet, when I moved, she seemed almost disappointed.

  “You’re ready to go in already?” she asked.

  “Nope. But the blanket cooled down, and it’s getting cold. You wanna run down and grab us a soda while I plug it back up for round two?”

  Her smile was as genuine as it was wide. “Deal.”

  Lacy

  I left Nick waiting in my bedroom while I expertly navigated my way through the dark house down to the kitchen.

  Daddy must have come from his room while Nick and I were on the roof, for the first thing I noticed was the moonlight shining on the dirty dinner setting still on the table. It would take a few minutes for the electric blanket to warm up again, so I decided to spend an extra few seconds clearing away my father’s mess.

  While I gathered the dishes off the table, arms slid around my waist from behind. The smell of liquor was nearly overpowering, and I knew my father was still drunk.

  Tears found me quickly. How depressing that my father needed to be drunk to touch me. Nevertheless, drunk or not so be it, for it had been so long since daddy had looked at me, much less touched me, that I wanted to savor the loved feeling I always felt in one of his embraces.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I choked out, leaning my head back against his chest.

  “I’ve missed you, honey,” he said softly, against the side of my head.

  My daddy did still love me! He did miss me! He was working and doing normal things again. He was finding his way back to life. Drunk or not, the progress he was making tonight was worth a hundred of the snubs I received over the past few weeks.

  A sob escaped me and echoed in the darkness. It was all I could do to breathe, much less speak, for the joy I felt in that instant.

  “I miss you too, Daddy.” I turned around to slide my arms around his waist, and he eagerly accepted me. He not only accepted me, he pulled me close and tight. “Oh, Daddy,” I bawled against his chest. “Daddy, I love you. I’ve missed you and needed you so.”

  He ran his hands up and down my back slowly. “You shouldn’t be in here cleaning up my messes.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said quickly, tilting my head back to smile up at him through my tears of happiness. “Really, I don’t.”

  He brushed my hair away from my face tenderly before kissing my forehead. “I never want you to lift a finger. Just be beautiful you here with me, and that’s all I’ll ever need.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” I cried, through shuddering tears.

  One of his hands that had been casually stroking my back came low about my waist and slid under my pajama top on the way back up. Chills went up and down my spine, and I stiffened.

  “Daddy!”

  I panicked and started to pull away, but he gathered me closer, nearly flush against him, and lowered his head to whisper against my cheek, near my ear, “I’ve missed you, baby. Lacy will clean up in here in the morning. Let’s go to bed.”

  “Daddy, what are you doing?”

  I tried to push him away, but his arms were strong, and his lips were greedy as they sought out my throat. One of his hands slid around from my back to inch up my stomach.

  “Daddy! Let me go!”

  I pushed at his shoulders and chest, trying to squirm away, but somehow, he managed to back me up and pin me against the counter.

  “I’ve missed you, Grace,” he whispered as he attempted to kiss me, but I turned my face to avoid it.

  “Stop it, Daddy! Please stop! NICK!”

  I kicked and flailed against him, but I was no match for his brute strength, amplified tenfold by the excess alcohol. In a second, one of his hands was between us, trying to pry his fingers into the front of my pajama bottoms.

  Shock and stark terror sent me into hysterics. “NO! DADDY, STOP! STOP IT! NICK! NICK!”

  Suddenly the lights were on, and my father released me so abruptly that it took a moment for me to realize that Nick had pulled him away from me.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jer?” Nick spat through gritted teeth, as he reeled my father around and away from me.

  Nick slammed my father face down on the table and clenched both of daddy’s wrists behind his back. “I oughtta fuckin’ kill you, Jerry!”

  Nick shook his head in disgust, then reared his fist back. “Fuck it! I’m going to!”

  I pushed aside my shock and humiliation enough to pull myself together when I realized Nick really meant to seriously harm my father, no matter how justified he felt. I ran over and caught his arm just as he was about to plunge his fist into the back of my father’s head.

  “Nick, don’t!”

  “Get the fuck off me, Lace!”

  “Lacy?” came my father’s muffled voice. He twisted his head around and looked at me where I stood tugging my pajamas back into shape from the twisting and pulling they’d endured at his hands. “Oh, sweet Jesus, what did I do?”

  “Nick let him go! He was drunk, but he’s fine now.”

  “Like hell!”

  “Oh God, Lacy, I’m so sorry,” my father slurred through thick, echoing sobs. “Jesus, oh Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  “Nick, let him go,” I demanded, tugging his arm so he would let go of my father’s wrists.

  As soon as Nick let him go, daddy sank to his knees and bowed over crying with his forehead resting on the cold, linoleum floor.

  “Oh God, no! Oh God,” he wailed, almost incoherently. “I tried to stay away from her so it wouldn’t happen. Oh God, I swear it, I tried!”

  I knelt beside my father and tentatively reached out to place a comforting hand on his back, but he jerked away at my touch.

  “Stay the hell away from me,” he shouted, crawling out of my reach.

  Nick came to take my arm, urging me up to my feet. He curled me against him and pulled my head to his chest, trying to soothe my sobs that matched those of my father’s in volume and intensity. �
��It’s okay, Lace,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

  After a few moments, he cupped my cheeks and tilted my head back, forcing me to face him. “Go upstairs and pack a bag. You’re not staying here.”

  “But he won’t do it again,” I protested. I sniffled back my tears and pulled away from Nick to return to my father’s side. “Daddy, tell him. Promise it won’t happen again.”

  My father lifted his head to look up at me with tears still streaming down his cheeks mirroring those on mine.

  “Daddy, tell him,” I pleaded, my voice distorted by fresh tears when he hesitated. “Tell him it won’t happen again, right? Tell him you were drunk and confused and it won’t happen ever again. Swear to it, Daddy. Swear to it, please.”

  Nick knelt beside me, putting his arm around me to drag me away from my father. “Go pack a bag right now, Lace, or I’m going over to wake up my parents and call the law.”

  “Nick, no! He didn’t mean it. He was drunk and didn’t know what he-”

  “Go with him,” said my father, in a small voice tainted with humiliation and frustration.

  “Daddy, I won’t let him tell anyone,” I promised. “I’ll help you quit drinking, and I’ll go with you to see a doctor or whatever you need to-”

  “I don’t want you here!”

  I sat back on my heel, physically stunned by the force and determination of his claim. I stared down at my father, who looked away, apparently unable to face me after what he’d done.

  “I can’t have you here. I won’t get better as long as you’re here.”

  “But, Daddy, I don’t want to go.” He didn’t respond so I tried to pull him into an embrace, which he shrugged off. “Daddy? If I go, when can I come home? You just need a few days, right? I can come home in a few days?”

  “You’re a big girl, Lacy. You’ll be marrying Kevin in a few months. You don’t need to come back.”

  I swallowed the meaning of my father’s words. He was really telling me to leave and never come back. It didn’t matter that I didn’t want to go. He needed me to leave, and to argue or insist on staying would serve no one but myself.