A Graceful Mess Read online

  “Hey, do you think you can give me a ride?” Parker eyes me as I wait for Carson’s response.

  “Yeah, sure. We’re headed to the same place anyway.” He shrugs.

  “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot you were coming with us tonight. What’s the place called again…Shameless?”

  “It’s going to be off the chain!” The sound of Carson hitting the horn startles me. He’s really pumped up about going out tonight. Moving my hand to reach the door, Parker grabs my wrist before my fingertips pull on the handle. His other hand rises and tangles itself in my hair. Pulling my head towards his, he kisses me. His tongue parts my mouth as his hand lets go of my wrist, but grabs ahold of my waist and pulls me closer. I don’t think you can even fit a pen in between us, we are standing so close.

  Carson clears his throat, “So…did I miss something? Are you guys together, like, together, together or just fuck buddies?” He says interrupting our kiss.

  Parker pulls his head away first, then leans down to make eye contact with Carson and shrugs his shoulders. Before he walks off, he opens the door for me and shuts it once my feet are inside.

  “Ask her,” he hollers with a grin on his face, winks, and turns around and walks inside.

  Are we together, together?

  Carson looks over at me as he puts the car in reverse, and I can feel my cheeks redden. He rolls his eyes and takes off down the road. Leaning my head on the black, leather seat, I take a moment and think about the answer to that question. I mean we have hung out a few times now, and we are casually having sex. I don’t know; does that make us friends-with-benefits or something? That’s doubtful. At least I hope that isn’t what Parker thinks of me. I’m not good with this whole relationship thing, but I do like him. Well, I more than like him. Knowing that I’ve let my guard down little by little, every time we hang out, tells me that much. But I wonder what he thinks about me. Does he think we are dating or are we an official item? After all, no one actually asks people out these days. Right?

  Now I’m all confused.

  Carson turns up the volume and soon the song on the radio fills my mind, and thoughts of my questionable relationship with Parker fade into the background as Buckcherry hits their chorus.

  The look on Carson’s face was priceless. Never once have we been attracted to the same girl, until now. I’m not stupid. I knew he was interested in her the first night I met her at the club, but little does he know, I am following her. Therefore I have seen her turn him down countless times. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

  I saw her eyes widen when I said, “Ask her.” He doesn’t have to ask, we all know the answer. We may not be an “official couple,” but she is mine. It’s best that he knows that now anyways. Hopefully he will take the hint and stop gawking at her ass all the time. At least now I have a reason to beat him into next week if I see it happen again.

  The car drives off, leaving the house quiet again. Noticing Carson’s backpack, I pick it up and sit it by the door. I’ll bring it to him tonight, because I will be making a guest appearance.

  Pulling up to Shameless, it is a giant clusterfuck. There are people lined up a mile down the street. I turn down a dark alley and into an open parking lot. My truck is huge, so I highly doubt anyone will touch it. I call Carson, but there is no answer. Scrolling through my stored contacts, I hit Ramsey’s name. The line rings a few times, but no one picks up. Rolling my eyes, I skip the line and walk to the front. There is a big, black guy and a medium-built, white dude checking IDs. The smaller one nods in my direction, so I walk up closer and put my hand out. Shaking it, the dude checks my license and takes my twenty dollar cover, then unhooks the rope and lets me in. The women screaming in the background remind me of screeching birds.

  I’d say the owner is pretty happy. For it being opening night the place is packed. I’m actually surprised at how big it is inside. Looking around for my brother and Ramsey, I don’t see them, so I make my way over to the bar and order a drink. Noticing a petite brunette from across the bar, I give her a quick wink. I’m an honest man, and I would never betray a woman, but a little innocent flirting never hurt anyone. Ignoring the brunette that is now walking over to where I am standing I see the face of an angel dancing behind her.

  Grace’s hands are waving around in the air as her body spins around and around. You would think she was at a rave instead of the opening night of a new bar. I can tell she is wasted from the way her body sags against Maci as the song ends. Maci must be pretty trashed too because she is fighting to keep her eyes open. Looking at my watch, I see it is only ten o’clock. They couldn’t have been here that long. I guess they pre-gamed a little too hardcore.

  Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout “Grace,” but she doesn’t hear me. Her legs shift with every step, bringing unneeded attention to her exposed thighs. Normally I’m not the jealous type, even after the whole Kristy cheating ordeal. Hell, I dated around, but nothing serious. But Grace is different. I wish I could pinpoint my attraction to her. I know this situation is no good for either one of us, especially if Mark Jacobs found out, but that doesn’t stop the pull her blue eyes have on me.

  My eyes glance over to a dude sitting on a stool a few feet away from where Grace and Maci are dancing. I don’t know why but he looks familiar. Taking in his appearance and swagger, I notice some ink on his hand. The tattoo jogs my memory. I would recognize that tat from anywhere.

  GRACE.

  On each of his fingers there is a letter tattooed. It’s faded and looks like someone did a shitty job or it’s a jail tat, but it’s there. He doesn’t see me looking, because his eyes are glued on the dancing blonde. I vaguely remember him. I think he was at The Red Saloon the night I first met Grace. But how many women are named Grace in the world? Surely he doesn’t know her. He may be mind-fucking her, but Grace is too innocent to have ever been with a douche with her name on his hand. Feeling a rush of testosterone, I slam my drink onto the bar’s counter and shove my way through the crowd of people until I reach her. My arms reach out and embrace her. Knowing the dude is watching, I give him something to look at. My lips find hers. She tastes of liquor and salt. As soon as my tongue enters her mouth it’s like the music stops. Everyone dancing around us fades, and it’s only the two of us in the large space. My heart pounds in my chest as her hungry mouth opens wider allowing me to explore. Giggles from Maci standing beside us break the moment. When I open my eyes, I look past her shoulder; the stool is now empty. I take it he got the hint.

  “Par…ka,” Grace slurs. “Wha...are ya doin? It’s my birfday. Tanks for da birfday smooch.”

  “Grace, how much have you had to drink?” I can smell the booze coming from her lips. My jaw clenches waiting for her answer and I can feel my ears getting hot. An indication I am getting mad, fast. Not at her directly, but at the situation. Number one, for some fucking reason I care about her wellbeing. Stranger or not, I’ve already marked her. She is mine. I would be a fool not to admit that. Number two, she is my client’s daughter, who I pray doesn’t cause a scene that gets her face plastered on the front page of the local newspaper. She shrugs her shoulders. Looking over at Spencer, I can see he is wasted too. Who the hell knows where Carson is.

  “Come on, Grace. Let me take you home.” My voice is low, but she hears me. Her head moves up and down. No one else notices, but I do. Grabbing her by her elbow, she braces her weight on my side.

  “You guys staying or coming with us?”

  “Naw, man. We’re good. Go ahead.” Ramsey reaches out in front of his chest and holds his fist out. I pound it and then turn on my heels with Grace at my side. Holding one hand out in front of us, we make our way through the crowd and to the exit door. There is still a line outside. Grace’s eyes open and close, as she slurs words and giggles. She doesn’t seem drunk; she seems drugged. I swear to fucking God, I will kill Ramsey and Carson if they gave her something. Her pace is so slow, I am practically dragging her. We approach the edge of the sidewalk to cross the stree
t and I realize there is no way she will be able to speed walk across it, so I bend and pick up her small body. Taking her into my arms and cradling her like a baby, I run across the busy road towards the alley.

  My feet stop dead in their tracks, Grace’s drunken body bounces in my arms from the sudden stop. Standing behind the dumpster a few yards away is the same dude from the bar. Squinting, I see him staring in my direction. He doesn’t move, just stands with a blank expression on his face. I feel like I’m in some strange old Western movie. Like it’s a flipping standoff or something, except instead of a gun, I’m holding Grace. Who’s going to pull their weapon first, and more importantly who the fuck is he and why is he creeping? A few seconds pass before either of us move. Then I see him reach into his hoodie and take out what looks to be a cell phone. Pointing it towards us, the flash goes off as he takes a picture. Turning away, he starts to walk in the opposite direction. Fuck, here’s to flying under the radar.

  Oh no, buddy, you’re not getting away that easily.

  Reaching in my pocket I slide my keys out. My thumb hovers over the panic button. Should I or shouldn’t I? Hitting the button the lights on my truck start to flash. The dude quickly picks up his pace and then starts to run. I don’t know who the little fucker is, but I’ll be damned if he is going to lurk around me or Grace.

  Unlocking the doors, I open the passenger side door and set her limp body on the seat, then reach across her chest and buckle her seatbelt. She is out of it. I could be a rapist and she wouldn’t even know what was going on. Slamming her door shut, I stand outside of my truck for a few seconds to regain my composure as I see the dude round the corner. I can’t let him get away without knowing why he’s snapping shots of us. Without hesitation I take off after him. Looking down the dark alley his silhouette disappears into a black car. The sounds of squealing tires fill the air around me. I wonder who that guy was and what the fuck he wanted as I jog back to my truck. Maybe I was wrong to think he couldn’t know my Grace. I’ve seen him three times now. All of which have been times I was in close proximity to Grace. But who could he be?

  What I really want to do is run back in there and rock Ramsey’s world, but I won’t. Not tonight. Tonight I need to get her home and hydrated. Ramsey can wait until tomorrow, but fuck, what if someone did slip them both something? Especially after this strange encounter with stalker dude, who knows what could have happened before I got there. I have to warn him. He is really drunk too and if Maci is on something, he needs to know what to watch out for, but I can’t leave Grace in here alone. Not with that dude close by. Something about him gives me an uneasy feeling, and my gut is almost always right.

  Climbing into my truck, I start the ignition and burn rubber as my tires spin under the metal frame. I pull up to the door and hop out of the truck. The bouncer nods as I approach him.

  “Hey, man. I think I forgot my wallet at the bar, do you mind if I run in and check?” He doesn’t say anything, so I continue.

  “I’ll be in and out, man. My girl is in the truck, drunker than hell, and there is no way I want her dinner on my floor boards, so I’ll make it fast.”

  “All right, bro, but hurry up.” Feeling slightly guilty about lying to him, I turn around and hit the lock button several times before running into the building. I spot Ramsey carrying Maci towards the exit sign.

  “What’s going on, Park? I thought you left.”

  “We did, but Grace is tore the heck up. I think she may have been roofied.”

  “Fuck. That explains why Maci is barely conscious.” I knew it.

  “Listen, just get her home and keep an eye on her. If she starts getting worse take her to the hospital. Normally sleep will help, but we don’t know how much they have had.” I grab the back of his neck and look into his eyes. “I mean it, Spence. Keep an eye on her. Call me if you need anything.” He nods and then I turn and walk away.

  Making my way outside, I give a quick handshake to the bouncer, then jump in my truck and floor the accelerator. Speeding in and out of traffic, I decide to go back to my place. At least I know where everything is there and won’t be snooping around like I would at her house, looking for things. Extending my hand over the seat, I check her pulse a few times. She is pretty torn up, so I want to make sure she’s still breathing. Making an emergency trip to the hospital is not how I wanted to end my night, or her birthday.

  Pulling up to my house, I slam the gearstick in park and hop out of the driver’s seat. Opening the passenger side door, I grab Grace’s limp body once again and carry her into my house. Josie barks, then realizes it’s me and quits. I lay her body on the sofa, positioning her on her side just in case she vomits. I don’t want her choking on it and dying. Brushing her hair out of her face, I quickly run down the hallway and open the closet door. Grabbing a few washcloths I go into the bathroom and wet them, then grab the small, green trashcan and head back into the living room. My hands have water dripping down them. Josie must be thirsty because she is attempting to lick the droplets off of my skin.

  “Go lay down, girl. Give me a minute.” Being the obedient dog she is, she heads in the direction of her large, stuffed dog bed and lies down. Folding the washcloths in two, I place one on Grace’s forehead and the other behind her neck. She doesn’t move even as sounds of cooing come from her mouth. I wonder what she is dreaming about, or if she is so messed up she isn’t even able to dream. Back in college I got like that more times than I’d like to admit, and the mornings were the worst of my life. I wouldn’t wish that what-the-heck-happened feeling on anyone, but I have a feeling Grace is going to wake up with the same confused look on her face as I did back then.

  Debating on taking off her clothes, I decide to just remove her shoes instead. I definitely don’t want her waking up and thinking I took advantage of her in her drunken slumber. Her body moves to curl up in the fetal position as her mouth opens and closes a few times. I know she must be thirsty, but I highly doubt she will wake up and get a drink. Climbing up off of the floor I go into the closet hallway again and grab a towel, then back to the kitchen and fill up a small glass of water.

  Lifting up her head and shoulders I slide the towel under her to cover up the couch, and then crouch back down on the hardwood floor positioning my weight on my knees. Tilting the cup up to her lips, I slowly allow the cool, clear liquid to drip into her parted mouth. I don’t know how much good it will do, but I know she needs water. Even if she isn’t capable of sitting up and downing a glass, some form of liquid will do. Her lips smack together as if her unconscious mind knows she is drinking. Feeling satisfied, I slide down and sit facing away from the couch. Peering out the window, the openness of the field surrounding my house makes me feel lonely. In Alabama, I was surrounded by family and friends almost twenty-four-seven, and here it is nothing like home. Pops left last week leaving me here to run the business, and while I knew the day would come, I didn’t imagine how lonely it would be. My staff and Carson are all I have here. Grace, laying only inches away, reminds me they aren’t the only thing I have, but really I don’t have her either. She isn’t mine. As much as I wish she was and as many times as I have marked her with my body, no words have been spoken to confirm or stake claim on any sort of relationship title.

  I may look like “Billy the Bad Ass” with my broad shoulders and jacked up truck, but deep down I’m a pretty emotional guy. This whole situation has just been messing with my head. Grace has filled a void in my heart somehow, and I don’t want to lose it. I know I have to make a tough decision, one I will probably regret for the rest of my life, but my job, my business, is at stake. Keeping her at a distance is going to be the hard part, but I know in the end, when Mr. Jacobs gets elected and I am done trailing her, I might be able to finally have her – all of her. Not just the parts where we fuck. I want all of her, the whole hand-holding in public shebang. I want Grace Clearwater to be mine, like really mine. Knowing that isn’t a possibility right now makes my chest ache. I inhale deeply, and Josie walk
s over me to and leans on my legs. She must have noticed my sulking behavior. Dogs can sense that shit. Leaning my head back onto the couch cushion, I relax and eventually drift off to sleep, one hand entwined in Josie’s fur, the other with Grace’s hand.

  Bile rises in my throat as the smell of bacon fills the air. With every inhale of breath, I fight the urge to vomit. Opening my eyes and sitting up, my mind takes a few seconds to realize where I am. The persistent licking of a dog’s tongue on my leg confirms that I’m at Parker’s house. Pans clanking and timers buzzing make my head pound worse than it already is. Raising my hand to rub my temple, I notice my forehead is wet and then I feel a cool rag lying next to me. My dress is hiked up my thighs and my hair is stuck to my cheek. I can’t even imagine what I look like. If it’s anything like how I feel, I’m sure I am a mess. Swallowing, I clear my throat.

  “Parker?” My voice cracks from dryness.

  Nothing but the sound of someone in the kitchen fills the air. Sitting up on the couch I turn and look into the kitchen. My eyes squint at a tall, blonde woman with a bob haircut who is cooking breakfast naked. My hand darts to my mouth as pure embarrassment overwhelms me. Standing up, my balance is slightly off. My hands help keep my equilibrium in check as I stumble down the hall to the bathroom. Josie follows my every move, like she is guarding me. Opening the door, steam hits me in the face.