ROCKED BY GRACE (LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES Book 1)

by M. J. Schiller

  “Grace….”

  “This’ll never work.” I screamed. Then, realizing Jamie might hear us, I lowered my voice. “Can’t you see that?”

  His hands were in my hair again. “No.” He looked at one of my eyes then the next. “All I see is you.”

  I shoved away from him. “Stop! Stop. This…it’s impossible.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Why do I say it?” I stared. “Where should I start?” I moved away from him, because I had to. I couldn’t think when I was near him. “You’re a rock star. I’m a glorified flower girl.”

  “So, because I’m a rock star you’re not going to give me a chance?”

  He was getting mad. Good. That was what I needed. “No. I can’t do this right now. I have to take care of Jamie.”

  “Let me come in,” he pleaded. “I’m good with kids.”

  “He isn’t your normal kid. He—”

  He waved a hand. “I know that. I can see—”

  “No, you can’t,” I shouted. I took a shuddering breath. “I made a mistake once.”

  “What? That guy from last night? He was the mistake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, who the hell is he? What’s his problem?”

  “He…he was the superintendent of my building. I…I didn’t have money to pay the rent. He offered to…let me move in with him.”

  “Shit.” He put a hand on his chin for a second then studied me. “It was a mistake. I get it. He hurt you. But I won’t do that.”

  “How can I know that? We don’t even know each other. I…I can’t make the same mistake again. Not when Jamie is involved.”

  He pressed his lips together.

  Good. Get mad. Say hateful things to me again, to hurt me, so I won’t fall any more deeply in love with you.

  “So you’re going to live your life alone because you made one mistake.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Jamie.”

  He exhaled sharply, looking down. His jaw was tight. It was like I could see the anger rise.

  “So, because you slept with some loser you’re not going to give me a chance.”

  I stuck my chin out, my own ire rising. “You can’t judge me. You don’t know what I went through. I—”

  “So you traded in your virginity to pay the rent, but I’m the one who ends up paying for it in the long run.”

  Even though it was what I wanted him to say to me, it hurt so bad it took my breath away. I could tell he regretted saying it the moment it left his mouth. But it was too late. It was said.

  “Get out.”

  “Grace, wait. Fuck!” He looked up to the sky with his hands on his hips.

  I pointed to the steps. “Get out and don’t come back. Don’t wait around on this fire escape because I won’t let you in. Just—” I was losing it. “Go.” I turned away and crossed my arms.

  He stood for a couple more seconds, then bolted down the stairs. I closed my eyes. Every bang of boot against metal pulled out a sob. When he reached the bottom, he didn’t bother with the ladder. His boots hit the gravel with a slap when he landed, and he was gone.

  I was fine before I met him. He made me realize how much I was missing. Emphasized the hole in my life. I wanted to fall apart. I wanted to lie in my bed and cry for days. But I had Jamie to take care of, and I needed to leave for work. I probably didn’t even have time for a shower. I brushed angrily at my tears.

  Fuck Zane Sanders.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Zane

  I sat in my car staring straight ahead. I’d started the ignition over five times but didn’t move from my parking space. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I had to return the rental Trans Am eventually. I considered going home to see my little sisters, but didn’t think I could handle my stepfather. He was worse now than when I was growing up. I’m not sure why he hated me so much, but since I was hating myself so much at the moment, that might be a lethal combination.

  I don’t know why I said what I did other than the fact that I was so frustrated. Maybe I was turning into a prima donna, spoiled rock star. It was like ever since I met Grace I was on full throttle. And the really strange thing was, I couldn’t even explain why. She was right. We didn’t know each other. We shared a couple dances. A kiss. Maybe twenty minutes. Was it lust? I mean, everyone said “The Kiss” was so hot. That’s lust, right? But…it wasn’t only that. Sure, I was physically attracted to her. But I had been with actresses and models and all kinds of gorgeous women…but none of them were her.

  It was so stupid. What was it about her? What was it about her that was driving me stark raving mad? I felt the last year, since Devin’s death, I grew so much. Outbursts like the ones I had the last several days, I thought they were a thing of the past. That I was gaining some maturity, calming down. Becoming a more acceptable member of society. What a bunch of bullshit. I was the same old fucked up me I’d always been.

  I had a really strong desire to drink until I blacked out. Until I forgot about her. But I guess that is one thing I learned. Drinking doesn’t solve things. It numbs them, buries them, but it can never solve things, and the actions of the past several days clearly demonstrated I had some things to solve.

  What was I doing sitting in my car? I had blown things with Grace; there was no reason to stay in this Podunk town any longer. But where to go? I could just drive. Think and drive, until I couldn’t think and drive anymore. Lord knew I had enough money I could stop somewhere. But the idea of spending the night by myself, in a room full of all the creature comforts when nothing could comfort me—that was even more depressing than sitting in my rental car outside of—I glanced over—Phil’s Bar and Grill. Great. Alcohol was only feet away.

  I wouldn’t compound this wrong by adding more to it. Then, of course, my mind kept going back to her. To the way her face looked when I spewed out my vicious words on her like acid. Here she was, some girl raising her little, disabled brother by herself since the age of eighteen.

  And there it was, at least in part. That was the thing I liked about her. She was strong, in a good way. Not a throw-my-weight-around way. Compassionate. Undaunted. The idea of me raising my little sisters when I was eighteen? Hell, I was a mess. My mom newly remarried. My stepdad was a bastard, always making me feel like trash. But Grace—that’s how her name suited her, she handled things with grace, whereas I handled them like a gorilla with sticks of dynamite.

  I groaned, lying back and staring at the car’s ceiling. “Why are you such a fuck up, Zane?” My words rang through the empty car unanswered. “Shit.” I rolled my head, peering out the window at Phil’s. Then I lifted it. I was pretty sure that was the spot where that loser was hanging out last night, waiting to stalk her. I thought about her words. If you ever touch me again…restraining order. Those words repeated themselves in a loop for a moment. She didn’t want to kiss him, he forced himself on her. His hand—holy fuck, he was pulling her hair to try to control her, not caressing it. “Oh, my God,” I groaned, laying my forehead on the steering wheel. And then I go an accuse her of— I rolled my head back and forth on the wheel, wanting it to hurt. The motion caused me to accidentally honk the horn and I quickly looked around to see if anyone heard it.

  I sat forward. Grace was walking down the street. She had on another pretty dress. This time a purple one with white flowers with a matching purple sweater buttoning at her throat, where I was tempted to kiss her. “Shit.” I slouched until I was almost below the dash, but I could still watch her. Her head was bent, as she seemed focused on her thoughts. I doubt she would see me if I was in full view. If that horn blast didn’t alert her to my presence, nothing would. She went into her shop.

  Now what.

  A thought struck me. If I was out here watching her, could he be, too? I scanned all of the cars parked on the street, then the doorways. I wanted to check the alleys but was afraid she might see me. I decided to wait and watch until she left work and make sure she got home okay. It was the least I could d
o after making her so miserable. But what then? It wasn’t like I could stick around every day and stake out her place, although I had nowhere I needed to be for a couple of weeks….

  At about two forty-five I saw that friend of hers from the concert walking up the street. Did everyone walk in this town? I got a few stares from somebody waiting for a bus and was surprised a cop hadn’t knocked on my window yet. But maybe one was watching me watching her. The friend went into Grace’s shop. And what about that? She owned her own shop. Pretty impressive.

  “Whoa.” I sank lower again. They were coming out. But instead of walking away from me, to her house, they were coming towards me. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” They stopped right beside my door. If Grace looked down, I was a dead man, but she didn’t. They went into Phil’s. I exhaled. Close one. I checked my phone again. Kind of a late lunch. I was starving. Two little pancakes does not a full rock star make. But I considered myself unworthy of sustenance and I wasn’t about to leave until she was safely home.

  So I waited.

  And waited.

  Five o’clock rolled around. I think my stomach was eating its own lining. My neck was killing me. I wasn’t sure if it was from sleeping in her doorway last night, or from slouching in the car. At the moment I was curled on my side facing the grill to relieve my ass a little bit. How long of a break was she going to take?

  It got dark. I’m pretty sure one guy saw me, but he kept walking. People didn’t care about each other anymore. About seven-thirty it dawned on me there might be a back door to the place. Man, I would be hacked if I spent the day watching a door for no reason. I decided to go in. If for nothing else than a sandwich and cold beer.

  “Oh.” Unfolding myself from the car became a monumental undertaking, and I discovered my feet were asleep and almost went to my knees, catching myself on a bike rack. Quite a few people had gone in, so I was pretty sure I could blend in and not be noticed by her if she was still around. I lost my ball cap somewhere along the way, but luckily I had a spare. I had no desire to be recognized at this point. I held the door for a couple, then followed them in.

  The place was hopping and loud. It was also dark and it took several minutes for my eyes to adapt. My ears were assaulted by country music. Someone needed to take out the guy at the juke box. I strolled up to the bar and subtly scanned the area.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, but I spotted her.

  “Uhh. I’m good for now. Thanks.”

  She and her friend were out on the dance floor. She no longer had her sweater on, and the cocktail in her hand was obviously not her first. More laughing and drinking was going on than dancing. And the moves she was using at the moment were nothing like the ones she used on stage with me. Of course, she hadn’t been nearly this inebriated. As usual, a pair of guys was watching them. It didn’t look like they were leaving anytime soon so I grabbed a stool near the door and ordered a beer and burger. I don’t know if it was because I was starving, but the burger was outstanding. I woofed it down and considered ordering another. I checked on them. One of the guys had positioned himself behind Grace. I sat straighter, stretching my already sore neck to see around some people who blocked my view. Of course, since he was right behind her and she was dancing like a maniac she bumped into him. He twisted and said something to her, and the next thing I knew, they were dancing together.

  Wow. Smooth move, Exlax.

  “Another beer?”

  “Huh? No.” The bartender turned to walk away. “Hey, can I get my tab?”

  “Sure. Be back in a sec.”

  I absentmindedly pulled some bills out and laid them on the bar. The little shimmy Grace was doing was quickly evolving into a lap dance, and his hands were getting a little too friendly for my liking. I threaded through the crowd. Now his arms were all the way around her from the back. It appeared as if he was trying to say something in her ear, but she was flailing about so much that seemed like a dangerous enterprise. His tall friend, boasting a cowboy hat, was all over Grace’s friend, reaching from behind to touch her stomach. This wasn’t good.

  “Grace.”

  She stared at me with unfocused eyes. I shot her dance partner a dirty look.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Ya know, I’m really not sure. That’s a good question. Let’s explore it on a walk to your place. I think it’s time to go.” I touched her elbow and she drew back.

  “No,” she said like a three-year-old. “I’m having fun.”

  “Yeah. A little too much fun. I think we should go.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  I hoped for an easy extrication because the longer this took, the more prepared these guys would be to kick my ass, and possibly recruit some help.

  I took her elbow again. “Grace. Come on.” She shook it off.

  “I don’t think she wants to go with you, pal,” her dance partner said, straightening.

  “Don’t talk to him like that,” Grace said in my defense.

  I sneered at the guy. I turned sideways to the door and extended my arms, hoping maybe she’d cooperate if she didn’t feel like she was forced. “Let’s go, Grace.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

  “See,” the guy said with a sneer of his own.

  I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice. “You don’t have to go with me, but please go. I don’t think these guys are looking out for you.”

  The redneck stepped forward. “I am, too. Aren’t I, sugar?” He was holding her hips and trying to gyrate in time with her.

  Grace flipped her hair. “Yeah.” Then she did a little hip dip that may have been sexy, may have been sexy, if she hadn’t fallen off her heels. “Ouch.” She stumbled and I seized my opportunity.

  Careful to keep her dress in place, I bent and grabbed her around her legs. “Up we go.” I hefted her over my shoulder. I started to leave but saw the guy in the cowboy hat getting cozy with her friend again. “You.” I snatched her hand and dragged her along with us. “You’re coming, too.”

  “Okay,” she said brightly.

  Meanwhile, Grace was beating on my back and hollering for me to let her go. By chance I saw her sweater on the back of a chair and plucked it off. “Did you have a purse?” I tried to remember if she had one when she came in.

  “No.”

  “Okay.” I wondered how she was supposed to buy drinks without a purse. Her friend collected a cell phone from the table. Next to it a fishbowl sat with ice in it and two straws sticking out at odd angles. “Did you guys drink that?”

  She looked. “Oh, yeah. Two of them.”

  “Two?”

  She nodded proudly. I hoped for their sake Phil served watered down drinks. I took her hand again, and she came willingly.

  “Hey,” some guy said as we were passing. “Aren’t you that Grace from that concert on YouTube?”

  Grace lifted her head and answered in a bubbly way. “Yes. That’s me.”

  I rolled my eyes and forged through the crowd, which, thankfully, parted for us. I breathed a sigh of relief when we hit the pavement. All-in-all, I thought that went about as good as it could go. Grace was still now. I let go of her friend so I could shift Grace’s weight. Her friend continued to walk beside me. The silence felt uncomfortable.

  “So, I’m Zane. You are…?”

  “Payton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Payton.”

  “Thanks.” She kicked a rock ahead of us. “You weren’t very nice to Grace this morning.”

  I grimaced. “She told you that, huh?”

  “Yes. That’s why she wanted to get drunk.”

  Knowing I had hurt her bad enough she needed to escape in alcohol for the evening pierced me. “Damn it.” I muttered under my breath.

  Payton walked out in front of me and spun to face me, holding a hand out like a cop. “I’m not sure I should let you take her.”

  I chuckled. “All I’m doing is taking her home. I swear.” />
  “Okay.” She walked beside me again. I got the feeling she was a real hoot. “I think she’s had too much to drink.”

  “I agree with that summation.”

  “To tell you the truth, I was a little worried about getting her out of there myself.” She turned to look at me. “It’s usually her yelling Hyacinth, not me.”

  “O…kay.”

  She smiled. “She takes care of me.”

  “Yeah.” I stopped to adjust again. “I get the feeling she takes care of a lot of people.”

  She nodded. “She does. She does. She’s the best,” she gushed.

  “Mmm.” I looked ahead. How many blocks was it to her house?

  “Is she heavy?”

  “Not really. Just awkward.”

  “Ahh.” We walked on in silence for a bit. “Why were you so mean to her?”

  Ouch. Out of the mouths of babes and drunks. I exhaled. “I don’t know, Payton. I really don’t. I wish I did.”

  “You made her cry.”

  I stopped, closing my eyes. “I know. I was a real asshole.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  I frowned. “Do you always say what’s on your mind?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Mmm.” I continued walking. I shook my head. The conversation was both amusing and painful.

  Payton turned around, walking backward, which I considered quite an accomplishment in her state. “You were right about those guys. They were losers.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear we’re in agreement.”

  “You’re not a loser, Zane.”

  That cheered me. “Thanks.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  I laughed. She was a piece of work. “Well, I can’t exactly argue the point because you’re right. I am a jerk. And an asshole. And a whole lot worse.”

  “Ooh. What’s worse than an asshole?”

  I turned to observe her. “A Zane.”

  She held a finger up. “Ahh. I see.”

  I was getting winded. “How much farther is it?”

  “A block and a half.”

  “Okay. Can we stop for a sec?” I redistributed the weight on my shoulder again. “Could you hold the sweater?” It kept slipping.