Still Falling (Falling Series Book 2)

by Lucia Grace

  “Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Looking down at my phone, I see Kayson’s name flash across the screen.

  “What’s up?”

  “Hey, man. I didn’t know Tracey was going back to work today.”

  My whole body stills. “Say that again.”

  “Tracey. I just saw her at the Coffee Press. Stopped in for some coffee before my shift. I didn’t know she was going back to work already. Especially with that fucker out on bail.”

  Blood rushes through my veins and my heart pumps so wildly I can’t even hear that Kayson’s still talking. Jesus Christ that woman.

  “Dame, you still there?”

  I clear my throat before responding. “Yeah. So she’s at the café? Right now?”

  “Yeah, man. You didn’t know?”

  Fuck. I swear she is going to be the death of me. “No, Kase. I had no idea.” I scratch a hand over my head and drag it down my face. “Seems our little chat this morning didn’t sink in,” I mutter to myself, but Kayson must have heard me since I hear him chuckle.

  “If Tracey’s anything like Em, and I know she is, then I can guarantee it went in one ear and out the other. These women say we don’t listen, but fuck, man, they listen worth a shit.”

  Don’t I fucking know it.

  “Good luck with that one.” He laughs.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I say dryly before hanging up. I check the time on the dash of my cruiser and see it’s almost noon.

  I left her less than three hours ago. Jesus Christ.

  Pulling a U-turn I head back the way I came, toward town, so I can pay Ace a little visit.

  Stepping through the new door of the Coffee Press, the same annoying bell jingles overhead as I tear my aviators from my eyes. I scan the shop and stop when I find her. She’s sitting behind the counter, eyes wide, as Sam laughs her ass off from her seat at the bar along the side.

  “Oh, this is going to be good,” she exclaims.

  I grunt at her enthusiasm and stomp over to Ace.

  “Care to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here, sweetheart? When I clearly fucking remember us discussing that you wouldn’t be coming back yet.”

  “Wow, angry Officer Dimples is hot!” Sam exclaims while fanning herself.

  Ace ignores her comment.

  As do I.

  “We didn’t discuss anything. You demanded I stay at your place and then stole my keys so I couldn’t leave.” She crosses her arms over her perfect tits. “I found a way out anyway.”

  I breathe deep before responding. “And I told you why I demanded you stay home. Because if you haven’t realized it yet, your fucking crazy stalker and attacker is walking free right now and could strike at any fucking moment.” My anger spikes at the thought of Wilkes being able to get to Ace while I’m not there to protect her.

  “Well as you can see, I haven’t been alone—not once. Sam has been sitting here with me the whole time.” Ace gives me a smug smile, like she has all the answers in the goddamn world.

  “And what the fuck could Sam do if Teddy stormed the café again, huh? Please fucking tell me,” I demand.

  “Hey! I take offense to that, Office Dimples. I went to a few karate classes when I was a kid. Picked up some pretty decent moves, too.” I cut a hard look to Sam as she lifts her hands in the air in front of her, imitating a karate chop. “Hi-yah!” she screams as her hand slices the air.

  I look at Sam, hard look still in place, then look back to Ace to see her lips curled over her teeth. Trying to ward off a laugh she no doubt wants to unleash at Sam’s absurd behavior.

  “Laugh it up, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s trying to keep you safe. So I’m sorry that’s such a fucking inconvenience for you, but that’s all I’m trying to do.”

  Her face falls, plump lips now set in a grim line. “I’m sorry,” she finally says quietly. “But I could not spend another day cooped up in your house, Damon. I couldn’t. I’ve barely been out of the house in three weeks. Besides doctor’s appointments, I haven’t left. Everyone—Em, Sam, Amber, and even my parents—they all come to visit me. I needed to get out of there.”

  I know she’s right. But if she’s at my place, at home, and stays there, then I know she’s safe. I have no control over her surroundings if she’s at the café. But at my house, with the security system I have in place, I’ll know if anything happens.

  I lean my balled-up fists on top of the counter separating Ace from me. Dropping my head forward, I turn it side to side to crack my neck. When I lift my head back up I notice that Ace is sitting on a stool instead of standing on her recently unbooted foot.

  She must see that I noticed because she smiles a small smile before saying, “I’ve been off my feet the whole time.”

  I blow out a deep breath. My chest heaving in then out. “I’m real glad, sweetheart, really. But that doesn’t help our other situation. If anything ever happened to you…” I trail off and shake the thoughts from my head, not allowing myself to go there.

  Ace breathes through her nose and really looks into my eyes for what feels like the first time in months. “I appreciate you watching out for me, Damon. I really do. You’ve been a great friend.”

  Friend? She thinks I’m stomping around this fucking town, hunting her ass down, keeping her close, because I’m looking out for a friend?

  “Oh you’ve gone and done it now,” Sam murmurs between us.

  Ace ignores her and keeps going. “But as you can see I’m fine, I’ve been fine, and I’ll continue to be fine. I have the restraining order in case Teddy decides to lose the last marble he has and comes at me again. Plus, I’m healed enough that I don’t even really need to be at your place anymore. I was going to let you know that I will be leaving within the week.”

  And now she thinks she’s leaving? Oh, sweetheart, you’re playing with fire.

  “Ace, very little of what I’ve been doing lately, or how I’ve been acting, has to do with me being a friend. And if you could see the thoughts I’ve been having of you since you’ve been under my roof…” I pause for effect. “Well, you’d realize just how unfriendly those thoughts have really been.”

  She gasps out loud. As if that’s really a shock.

  “And as for you leaving? That’s not fucking happening. Now get your pretty little ass off that stool, grab your shit, and let’s fucking go. I’m bringing you home where you’ll be staying.”

  Damon texted me before he left the station, informing me that he was going to his parents for dinner. I was lying across the couch in his living room. Sketch pad in my lap. Pencil in hand. I had just hung up with my mom who had called to check in, calling to see how I was feeling and see how it was going living with Damon. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t living with him, but she just shushed me.

  After staring at my phone for a good five minutes I texted Damon back, letting him know I thought that was great for him. All the while wondering why the heck he found it important to tell me.

  As I returned to the sketch I was working on for Ember’s newest children’s book, my phone dinged with another text.

  He then told me to be ready in fifteen minutes because I was going, too.

  He does that a lot. Bosses me around. And Lord help me, I can’t help but listen.

  Like the other day when he barged into the café and told me to grab my shit. I did just as he said and he brought me home.

  Home.

  He’s been referring to his place as my home more and more lately. Making me a part of his every day, his routines, his life. I think it’s because I’m here—stuck here, really—but I’m hoping it could be more than that. Because Lord knows my heart would love nothing more.

  I really need to work on that though. Listening whenever he speaks. Or rather demands.

  But nevertheless, I dropped what I was doing, sketch left unfinished, and now here I sit next to Damon at his family dinner table that I haven’t sat at since I was a child. Sitting across from his parents while w
e share dessert after a delicious supper.

  I look across at them and excuse myself. “I’m just going to use the restroom.” They smile and nod as Damon squeezes my thigh. He’s been randomly touching me more and more lately, too. Especially ever since he told me about Teddy’s release last week and since he stormed the café the following day.

  “You know where it is,” Mrs. Miles, or Gina as she’s always telling me to call her and her husband by their first names, says before taking a sip of her coffee. I do. I’ve been here enough times as a kid that I could probably navigate the floor plan blindfolded.

  “I sure do.” I smile and stand, grabbing my dessert plate and utensils. But Mr. Miles isn’t having that.

  “Honey, don’t worry about that. We’ll get it,” Trent instructs. And yes, instructs. Because when Trent Miles speaks, people listen. It doesn’t matter what he’s saying, he just has that aura about him.

  Like father like son.

  They have more than their personalities in common, too. Take away Damon’s delicious tattoos that cover his arms, chest, and back and he’d be a dead ringer for his father. Except for his eyes. Those are all his mother’s.

  I set the plate and fork back down and smile at him. “Yes, sir.” I can hear them all chuckling at my response from behind me as I walk down the hall.

  Once I handle business I wash my hands and make my way back down the hallway where I hear murmuring voices coming from the living room. It sounds as if they don’t want what they’re talking about to be heard. Wanting to give them privacy, I turn to the kitchen to see if Gina could use any help, but then I hear her say my name from the living room and I stop in my tracks.

  I know I shouldn’t but I quietly walk to the doorway, staying behind the wall so I can eavesdrop.

  “She looks like she’s recovering well.” I then hear Trent say.

  “She is. She’s doing well. Her ankle still gives her some trouble, but the boot is off as you can see. Besides that she’s almost completely healed from what that fucker did to her.” I can still hear the venom in Damon’s voice whenever he talks about Teddy and what he did to me.

  “What’s going on with you two, sweetie?” Gina asks. “Last I knew she was staying with you while she healed and her parents were away. But now they’re back, it’s been three weeks since the attack, and like you said she’s almost completely healed, but she’s still with you. And now you’ve brought her over for dinner.”

  There’s almost a hopeful note to Gina’s tone as she brings up all the things I’ve been asking myself since I’ve been staying with Damon. A smile lifts my lips at the thought of her wanting Damon and me together.

  I hear him huff a breath as Trent offers his agreement to his wife’s questions. “Is something going on with you two, son? Because I’ve also noticed that the parade of ladies you normally have on your arm has come to a sudden halt. Kayson also mentioned that he hasn’t seen you with anyone in awhile and made it seem like it’s been since before Tracey was attacked.”

  Trent’s comment hangs in the air before I hear a muttered “Fucking Kayson,” which makes me hold back a chuckle, because as much as he gives him a hard time, Damon would be lost without his best friend. And then hope blooms in my chest when Trent’s comment registers and I realize he’s right. There hasn’t been anyone, and from what I can remember, it has been since before my attack.

  “Nothing is going on with us.” He sounds exasperated and almost panicked at their insinuation. My hope diminishes and my heart cracks. “She needed a place to stay after what happened. With her parents gone it left few options and my place was the best one. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m just helping her out, that’s it. Kayson needs to learn to keep his fucking mouth shut since he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.”

  My heart shatters in my chest at his simple explanation. I stumble away from the wall and walk into the kitchen in a daze. His words affecting me more than they probably should, but the way he just made me seem like nothing more than a bother, an obligation, tears me in two.

  After the other day at the Coffee Press and then the time I’ve been at his house, I thought that maybe we were going somewhere. That maybe Damon and I could make something work between us. But now I know I’ve been nothing but a burden to him.

  I busy myself with loading the dishwasher then wiping down the counters when the three of them walk in.

  “Oh, you didn’t need to do all of that, honey,” Gina says as she walks around the island and over to me. A bright smile on her face. Trent and Damon remaining on the other side of the counter.

  I swallow hard before attempting a smile. “It was no problem.” She squeezes my hand as I look over to Damon, keeping eye contact with him despite how I feel right now. “I’m tired though. Can we get going?”

  He nods. “Sure.”

  Looking back to Gina and Trent, who is now standing behind his wife with his hands on her shoulders, I attempt another smile. “Thank you for tonight. Dinner was delicious, as always.”

  They both hug me and tell me I’m welcome any time before I walk back around the counter, grab my bag from the living room, and wait by the door for Damon.

  It kills me that I have to leave with him, but I have no choice. Although my parents live right next door, they aren’t home tonight and I left my keys at Damon’s. Plus, he drove me here and his parents live across town from him, so walking would be out of the question.

  As soon as Damon gets the door open, I’m saying a final good-bye to his parents and powerwalking to his truck. I hop in as soon as he gets the doors unlocked, not allowing him to help me.

  He gives me an odd look when he gets in, asks if I’m all right, and starts the engine after I reply with a “Yes.”

  The almost twenty-minute ride back to his house is quiet. The radio the only noise filling the cab. When he pulls into his driveway, I don’t wait until he cuts the engine before I’m jumping down and walking to the front door. Again wishing I had brought my keys so I could let myself in.

  After Damon gets the door unlocked, I make my way straight to my bedroom without saying a word and shut the door behind me. I hear his footsteps pause at my door before they continue to his door and then I hear it shut.

  Grabbing my sketchbook, I sit on the bed and hope the familiarity will help calm me. But it’s no use. After five minutes of trying to finish this damn sketch I’ve been working on for Ember for the last week, I give up when my shaky hand won’t steady.

  I toss the pad and pencil on the end table next to the bed and run my hands over my face. Trying to hold back the tears as I replay what I heard. How could I have been so damn stupid?

  I should have known better. Known that Damon would never want me. That we would never be anything more than friends.

  With determination I make a decision, because I can’t stay here a minute longer knowing how he feels. Knowing what I should have known all along, that I’m only here to get better and that’s it. Regardless of how he’s acted since I started staying with him, along with the mixed signals he’s been sending my way with his possessiveness and protectiveness.

  Well I’m better now. So it’s time for me to go.

  I don’t know what the fuck is going on with Ace, but I’m about to find out.

  As soon as I saw her cleaning up in the kitchen I knew something was wrong. She wasn’t as vibrant as she had been earlier. Her smiles didn’t reach her eyes and her tone was off. Then to top it all off she didn’t say one word all the way home.

  Instead of trying to have a conversation, I let her be, thinking that would be best until we got home. But before I could even turn the truck off she was out of the cab and rushing to the front door. Acting like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough, leaving me confused as fuck because I have no idea what I could have done to make her act that way.

  When I get into the house, I see that she isn’t in the living room or kitchen—just as I suspected—so I immediately walk down the hallway toward our bedroom
s. Her door is shut and it’s silent; I don’t even hear her moving around inside. Taking a deep breath, I decide to leave her be and make my way into my room to change into some running gear. Maybe the space will do her some good and the run will clear my head.

  After I get changed and finish lacing up my sneakers, I make my way back down the hall but stop dead in my tracks when I hear rustling on the other side of Ace’s door. I knock twice before walking in, not giving a fuck that I didn’t wait for her to tell me I could enter.

  As soon as she comes into view, I freeze.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Even more confused now, I walk in to see Ace packing a duffle bag with some of her things.

  She isn’t shocked at my outburst, she just keeps gathering her things before replying. “I’ll come back tomorrow or another day to get the rest of my stuff,” she mumbles. Keeping her head down, focused on her task.

  Stepping forward, I rip the bag from the bed. The clothes she had poised to pack falling to the mattress.

  “Damon, give it back.” She looks at me. Sad, big brown eyes not bothering to hide her annoyance. “I’m not playing games with you. Give me the bag so I can go.”

  “Go? What the fuck are you talking about? Why the fuck are you packing, and why the fuck do you think you’re leaving?” Panic and anger swirl through my veins. Mixing with my confusion over what the fuck is going on.

  Seriously, what the fuck is going on?

  She roughly shakes her head before walking around the side of the bed to retrieve the bag I took from her. But before she can make it a step, I’m grabbing the bag all over again. Tossing it across the room. Her clothes scattering on the floor.

  “Damon!” she yells. “Seriously, stop it. I’m leaving.”

  “The fuck you are! I already told you before that you aren’t going anywhere,” I growl, low and hard through labored breathing. She startles at my anger before steeling her spine and standing up to me.

  “Yes, I am! I’m nothing more than an obligation to you. So I’m fucking leaving, taking away your problem.” Her chest heaves from yelling.

  “Obligation?” I ask out loud. My confusion evident in my tone. My anger dissipating slightly. “When have I ever made you feel like an obligation, Tracey?”