Grace note a cake series.., p.12
Grace Note: A Cake Series Novel, page 12
But Grace wasn’t Nikki. She wasn’t promising me protection. She was promising me a way out. A future. And I’d be a fool not to take it. Especially after last night. If what Nikki said was true, and they were looking for me, it could mean only one thing: they didn’t want me talking. But who would I even tell?
“I don’t like this,” Grace said, keeping her car idling as she pulled into the well-lit parking lot of a fast-food restaurant. This had been our compromise; I’d told her to drop me off where she’d picked me up and I’d walk the rest of the way, and she’d wanted to drive me right up the motel’s front door.
I pointed up at the sign. “Don’t be hating on Colonel Sanders.”
“Never. I’d just feel better taking you directly to a hotel.”
I smiled at her word usage. As if I were staying at a hotel. Any place that I could bribe my way into tonight would have a crooked M in front of it.
“I’m not letting you drive to that part of town. It’s too dangerous.”
“But it’s fine for you?”
“I live there. I survived without you worrying, Grace. And I will continue to survive even after you’ve bit off every last one of your nails.”
She slowly removed her finger from her mouth and smiled. “Just don’t forget to at least use their phone to call me when you get there.”
I patted my pocket with the number she’d given me along with the wad of cash. I hadn’t wanted to accept it, and probably wouldn’t have had I not been worried about retribution from my past. Holing up in a motel and staying off my drums until Grace could help find an acceptable foster care solution for me seemed the safest bet. I’d told her about care facilities that catered to at-risk kids like myself. They were more like centers than homes, but they offered both school and vocational studies, and I could stay in them until I aged out of the system. So, yes. I’d agreed to her loan, knowing one day I’d pay her back in full, and then some.
“I will. As long as the room has a phone.”
“What kind of hotel doesn’t have a phone?”
There was that word again. Hotel. “The kind I stay at. But I promise, Grace. I’ll find a way to contact you.”
“Tonight?”
“I’ll try. Otherwise, tomorrow I’ll find a shelter and use their phone.”
“Tomorrow,” she repeated, laying her head back against the seat and pretending to cry. “Tomorrow is so far away.”
I leaned over the console, just staring at her. She was so beautiful. So much more than I should be allowed. I couldn’t help but flash back to that moment in the towel hut, her moaning in my arms. I could have had her right there, but I knew well that once innocence was gone, you could never get it back, and I didn’t want her to have any regrets. But I also wanted to give her a taste of what to expect when we finally became one.
Grace turned to the side, allowing me full access to her pouty mouth. I closed the gap, sliding my fingers around the back of her neck and pulling her to me. Her lips pressed into mine, and without hesitation, her fingers glided along my bare chest. I hardened at her touch. She noticed, pressing her palm on me.
“No.” I moved her hand away.
“I want to.”
“Me too, but we can’t. Not here.”
I kissed her, deep and long. Her mouth parted, and I swiped my tongue along her lips. Tentatively hers touched mine, testing. Curious. We stayed locked like that, our bodies reacting to the heat, and despite my warnings not to touch, I slid my own hand up her shirt and under her bikini top. She gasped when my fingers traced around her nipples. My touch ignited her, like little blasts of static electricity. It was power like I’d never felt before. I had the ability to take her down to the studs, and while I reserved the right to do it sometime soon, it wouldn’t be today.
I removed my hand and sat back up. “Jesus, Grace. The things we could do.”
She nodded, a dribble of my spit clinging to her swollen lips. “I’m not stopping you.”
“I know. That’s why I have to leave.”
We sat there a second just staring, neither one of us wanting to end this thing we had going but both knowing we had to.
“Meet me around back,” Grace said, opening her door. “I’ve got your clean clothes and a few other things for you. I didn’t know what you needed, so I brought everything.”
She wasn’t kidding. Anything that might help me survive on the streets was in her trunk. Boxes and boxes of supplies. She moved the one of camping gear out of the way.
“You won’t be needing this in the hotel. And some of these clothes can probably wait.”
A shirt caught my eye, and I slid the box back to rifle through it. It was like stepping into a skater shop—all the brands the kids at school wore that I could never dream of owning. But as much as I wanted these things in my wardrobe, so would everyone else. I’d been jumped for my Goodwill duds. I could only imagine the beatdown her brand name stuff would get me.
“Save these for me,” I said, knowing once she got me off the streets, I’d very willingly accept the donation.
“I will. Honestly, Beats, none of this stuff is really necessary, since you’ll be sleeping inside, but I do have one thing…” Grace made a show of hiding whatever it was behind her back before whipping it around and dangling it in front of my face. “The holy grail.”
I gasped, ripping the Ziploc baggie out of her hands and wasting no time shoving the homemade cookies into my mouth.
“Slow down,” she laughed. “There are more where those came from.”
I looked around her trunk. “Where?”
“No, I meant like me. I’m your cookie dealer. You stick with me and I’ll hook you up like the sugar junkie you are.”
This all felt too good to be true; like I would close my eyes and it would have all been a dream. Like when I was a kid and a small bit of fortune would come my way, in the form of a good, loving foster home. But they never lasted. Just as I’d get attached, Nikki would do something shitty and a garbage bag would be thrust in my hand. And away I’d go. What if this thing with Grace was just as fleeting? The fear made me want to back away from her, to protect myself from the losing like I always did.
Grace handed me my laundered clothes, now in gray tote bags.
“It’s going to be a long couple of days without you,” she said, her words sounding almost ominous. “I wish I didn’t have school or I’d come hang out with you.”
“I know what we could do if you hung out at my motel,” I said, hooking my arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. Her tongue slipped right in. From ‘never been kissed before’ to this. Damn, Grace was a quick learner.
I walked her to the driver’s side door and opened it for her. She slipped into the driver’s seat and secured her belt before gripping my face and kissing me again.
“Stay safe,” she said between kisses.
“I will.”
And I meant it. As soon as I was safely inside my motel room, I wasn’t leaving until Grace got me the hell out of here.
My promise to Grace had been delivered in good faith. In a perfect world, things would have gone according to plan, and I would’ve stayed safe. Of course, I should’ve known promises never panned out in my world. They wouldn’t this time either. Ten minutes into my trek to the motel, a car screeched to a halt. A man jumped out and pushed me into the alleyway. Pain exploded on the right side of my face. I saw stars just before landing on my back.
“Remember me?” he asked, suddenly straddling my waist. His large hands circled my throat and black dots instantly swarmed my vision. But I saw him. I hadn’t forgotten his face. Or his name: Hartman. The hunter who’d destroyed my life before it had ever really begun.
Hartman shook me by the neck, the pressure slowly squeezing out my last remaining air.
Out of nowhere, Nikki latched onto Hartman’s back, her screams slicing through the night. “Noooo! Get off him.”
Hartman swore, removing one hand from my throat to pitch her off him like she was nothing more than a rag doll. Her scrawny body skidded across the asphalt. The pressure on my throat temporarily subsided, and I forced air back into my lungs. For that split second, I was free. But it didn’t last.
“Don’t let her fool you, boy.” He grimaced, his grip back on my throat and squeezing it tighter. My hands tore at his in a desperate attempt to restore my breathing. “She ratted you out for three capsules of oxy.”
“I didn’t, Rory,” she said, crawling toward me with blood trailing down her face. “Don’t listen to him. One of the girls saw me with you last night, and she heard me say your name…”
Nikki didn’t get the chance to finish her rebuttal. Hartman backhanded her to the ground with his one free hand. The other one he was continuing to use to crush the life out of me.
“I heard you’ve been talking.”
He let up on my throat long enough for me to answer him.
“I haven’t…”
It was the truth. I’d never told a soul what had happened to Nikki and me. Whatever source he had was lying.
“Oh, but you have. We warned you, didn’t we?”
Hartman and the men he worked for were so damn arrogant. Did they really think they could operate with impunity? You didn’t dabble in the shit they dabbled in and not have people poking through it.
“No, you actually didn’t,” I dared to defy only to be stopped mid-sentence when my head was lifted from the asphalt and then smashed back into the ground.
“Yeah, well, it was implied,” Hartman said, lifting my head up again. The next time it connected with the concrete, darkness shut me down.
PART II
THE BREAK
13
GRACE: FALL IN LINE
PRESENT DAY
We’d formed a line in order of importance. Nothing formal, just a general acceptance of where each of us fit into Quinn’s life. Mom and dad were first in to see him after he woke from surgery. They’d birthed him, so I had no real qualms with that. But after them, I came next. And I dared any one of my siblings to contest it. Yes, even though the typical line of succession in our family went something like this: everyone else, then the dog, then the parade of cats, and then me.
Not this time. Quinn and I were a package deal. Had been ever since the day he angrily declared at six years old that the rest of the family wanted us to starve to death. He’d always been dramatic that way, but who could blame him? We had sort of been left on our own. Not dissing Emma—she’d come in the clutch after Jake went missing, taking care of our basic needs. More importantly, when he returned, she hugged us through the turbulent nights when Jake wreaked havoc on our sleep. But the vast majority of each day was spent with just Quinn and me entertaining ourselves.
He was a little dictator back then. Only his play choices were allowed. God forbid I suggest dress-up or Candy Land. He’d fall apart, throwing himself to the floor like a lunatic when he didn’t get his way. I learned real quick that Teletubbies was out of the flippin’ question. Being his second-in-command during this time must have made me a more compassionate person because every time he shoved a sword in my hand and made me wear an eye patch to play Captain Hook, I didn’t kill him. So, yes, I’d paid my dues and earned my spot in the line of succession.
The rest of the family regularly called on me to tame Quinn’s combustive personality. The Quinn-whisperer, they called me, but really, he was easy to manage. Quinn didn’t want solutions; he just wanted someone to listen, to be patient and understand where he was coming from. That was where my Captain Hook training came in handy. I knew just how much to poke him before he totally shut me down.
It made me sad to think that after what had happened in the arena, my Quinn whispering might not be enough. Once my brother discovered the true toll this night had taken, he might require help of a more professional nature. While he was in surgery, news began arriving of the losses. Concertgoers and stadium staff alike had gone down. But it was the identity of one specific victim that would punch the biggest hole in Quinn’s heart. It was tragically revealed that my brother was not the only member of the band felled on the stage tonight. Brandon, Sketch Monster’s drummer, was gone before his head hit the floor.
I cringed to think of what that loss would do to my brother. But I could handle it. I’d take an active role in his recovery, putting my own suffering aside to be the support he needed. It was the least I could do after he kept me from starving to death all those years ago, even though his hot dog bologna sandwiches still haunted my dreams. So yes, I could confidently claim to be number three on Quinn’s guest list.
Only to my shock and horror, I wasn’t.
It was Jess. I watched as my mother went straight to her after leaving Quinn’s room. My mouth dropped open. He’d requested her. Of course he had. What had I been thinking? Jess was his fiancée now, the new most important woman in his life. A lump formed in my throat. I wasn’t sure my heart could take the bump in numbers. She’d just replaced me at number three. Wait, no—Mom and Dad, going in to see him first, had assumed wrong. Jess was number one. Goosebumps sprouted up over my forearms as if the tiny muscles under my skin were also coming to terms with the loss.
Don’t get me wrong—I loved Jess and she was the perfect match for my thorny brother—but Quinn had always been mine. I wasn’t ready to give him up, even though I had no choice in the matter. The last thing I wanted was to hold my brother back. He’d found this beautiful, spunky woman and inherited an adorable built-in son. They were his destiny now, just as building a life with Elliott was mine. I blinked. And blinked again realizing at that moment I didn’t want Elliott at the top of my post-surgery list. But who? I manually ran the alternates through my head, and literally every member of my family came before him.
What? No. That couldn’t be right. I recalculated, but came to the same total. It was then I knew—Elliott would never be my Jess.
And the goosebumps spread.
I glanced in his direction. Elliott was way ahead of me, already smiling as if he’d been waiting for his chance to cheer me up. I left him hanging, shifting my gaze back to Jess and my mom, watching from my place of utter insignificance as they spoke and then hugged. But instead of heading straight to my brother’s hospital room, my future sister-in-law took a detour toward me. I didn’t know why I wanted to hide.
Stopping at my seat, she held out her hand. I took hold, and she pulled me to my feet. She must’ve seen the tears of acceptance welling in my eyes. Like me, she understood the impact of the moment. This was the passing of the torch. From today forward, she would replace me in the most significant moments of Quinn’s life, and I would allow it to happen because I loved him. I loved him so much that I would not hold him back no matter how much it hurt my heart.
Jess drew me into a hug and whispered, “Do you want to go first?”
“Yes,” I admitted with a shallow giggle-sob. “But it has to be you.”
She leaned out of our hug and looked me in the eyes. “I want you to be okay with that, Grace.”
Tears now slid down my cheeks. “I am. But only for you.”
She wiped my tears away, then kissed my cheek before she carried the flame into my beloved brother’s hospital room.
I’d just slipped into Quinn’s fourth position, and somehow, I’d survived.
Not long after, I pushed the door open to Quinn’s dimmed room. Machines were moving and humming, but my brother looked surprisingly strong and whole. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but Quinn had always taken the role of hero for himself and, of course, he would claim it now.
“Hi,” I said, stopping at the foot of his bed.
He got right to the point. “I heard my fiancée made you cry.”
“Right? What’s up with that? You need to have a talk with her.”
As if it took all his resolve, Quinn smiled and opened his one good arm for me. I slunk over to him and laid my head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair.
“For what?”
“You know for what.”
I nodded. I’d relinquished control without a battle. If the roles were reversed, Quinn would’ve pushed Elliott aside… and I would have wanted him to. Those pesky tears I never cried came roaring back. I wasn’t used to being so delicate, like sand falling through an hourglass.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting back up and wiping away the tears. “It’s been a rough day.”
“Mine hasn’t been great either,” he replied.
“I know. But mine was worse,” I hiccupped out a laughing cry. “I even wiped Elliott’s kiss off my face.”
“No, you didn’t.” He winced through the hard-fought chuckle.
“Oh, but I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I was mad at him.”
“How’d that go over?” he asked.
“Oh, you know, about as well as can be expected.”
Quinn croaked out a laugh. “It’s that evil streak. You might have everyone else fooled, but I’ve got your number.”
I raised a finger to my lips. “Shhh. That’s our secret. You don’t want me to reveal yours, do you?”
“Oh my god, Grace. When are you ever going to shut up about that?”
“What? It doesn’t make you less of a man for liking Bridget Jones.”
Quinn attempted to protest, but that led to him wincing.
“Is this morphine?” I asked, pointing to the clear bag hanging from a hook. “Are you in pain? Do you want me to squeeze it? Because I will. I’ll strangle the little sucker until you’re high as a kite.”
“No, just stop making me laugh.”
“Would you prefer I make you cry? Because I can do that too.”
“I already did.”
“Cry?” I cocked my head into the dog-shock position. It wasn’t often I saw my brother cry. Tantrum crying, yes, but real, emotional tears were something he avoided at all costs. Quinn had always been stoic like that.
