A Graceful Mess (31 page)

“Gracie, you know I love you like my own sister, and guess what, no one cares that you’re adopted.”

I doubt she meant to sucker punch me in the face with her words, but that’s how I am feeling now. Wrinkling up my nose and forehead, it’s apparent she hurt my feelings.

“That was a bit harsh. Here move over.” Picking up my legs she moves closer to me. Setting them on of her thighs she continues, “What I meant was the pity party has to stop. I know you’re hurt, angry, and probably have a million questions, but none of those are going to get answered as long as you’re sitting in here pouring cheap, boxed wine down your throat all day. You need to get up and shower, number one, because you stink, number two, because, well, you stink.” Nudging her with my foot, she laughs.

“Seriously, Grace, your parents and Parker both love you and I know how much you care about them, but hiding out isn’t going to solve anything. Confronting the issue is the only way you’re going to be able to heal. Forgiving them all is another choice you’re going to have to make, but for starters you just need to get your cute, little butt up and confront them. I know how much Joseph and Karen love you, and look at it this way, if they never would have adopted you, I never would have met you.” Every word coming from her mouth is right, and all things I know. I’m just taking the coward’s way out. Pulling my legs up to my chest I lean forward and kiss her on the cheek.

“Do you know how much I hate that you’re right?” I frown.

“Probably as much as I hate you’re going through this.”

Standing up I pour the last of the wine into my glass and tilt my head back. The liquid is warm, since it has been sitting out on the coffee table while I watched horror movies all day, but I don’t care. It’s helped take the edge off a little bit.

“I’m going to shower and then maybe take a drive to clear my head. Then I’ll decide what I’m going to do next. I love you, no homo.” Maci turns her head to look at me as I walk backwards down the hallway.

“I love you too, Gracie.”

That shower was possibly one of the best I’ve had in a long time. There was no phone ringing, no thoughts running through my mind, just me, alone in the silence of the bathroom. After an hour of standing there, the water finally got cold. Deciding to get out, I get dressed and put on something other than workout attire. Making my way to my car, my cell phone rings. Without thinking I open my purse and hit accept.

“Grace, oh hell, sweetheart, you answered. We need to talk. Please I need to see you. I love you and this is killing me.” Holding the phone away from my ear I can see his picture on my screen; his handsome face and captivating hazel eyes stare right through me. Any other time I would do anything to see him in person, to see his face, but right now looking at him on the screen, hearing his voice makes me want to march back upstairs and open another box of Chardonnay. I don’t think I have a problem, but I can see why people turn to alcohol. Deciding that isn’t the best route I hit end call and proceed to walk towards my car. I don’t know where I’m headed, but I know I need to get as far away from this town as I can. Turning on my car, I drive out of my complex and onto the busy street following others until I hit the highway.

I thought the quietness of being on the open road with nowhere particular to go would help, but it doesn’t. My mind continues to wander when all I want it to do is shut down. My right foot presses down on the accelerator causing the car to go faster. That phone call, hearing him plead, the sadness of his voice, didn’t make matters better. I thought I was ready to face him, but clearly I am not.

Trees and open land pass by my windows in one long and steady blur. Images of Brody, hovering over me, taking my virginity, make my body shake in disgust, and then his face is replaced with Parker’s. His sweet touch, the glimmer in his gorgeous, hazel eyes, the way his dark chocolate hair hung over his eyes as his lips parted and he lowered his mouth to kiss me.

Was it all fake? Was it part of his job? Did he ever really care about me?

My skin crawls as my mind races through memories.

I need a drink.

Slowing down, I take the first exit I see and pull into a small parking lot. There is a neon sign out front of the small, white building that says Trixie’s. Only the r,i, and x are lit up, as the other bulbs are all burnt out. I guess no one has replaced them. Parking the car, I reach down onto the floorboard and grab my purse. Pulling my cell phone out, I debate telling Maci where I am, then tossing it onto the seat I decide not to.

The place looks deserted, other than a few pickup trucks parked by what appears to be the main entrance. Pulling down my visor, I glance in the mirror and run my fingers through my hair. Looking somewhat presentable, I open the door and get out of the car. Who knows what’s going on inside of this place, and honestly I don’t care. All I care about is getting a drink, and becoming numb so I don’t have to deal with my life right now.

Opening the door I am greeted with a cloud of cigar smoke and eyes turning my way. There is a small stage to my left, with a long, shiny steel pole down the middle and a small bar in front of me. Several stools are occupied by men in jeans and cowboy hats. One in particular catches my eye. He looks over at me and bends down the brim of his hat and nods. I’ve never been someone who slept around, went to random bars, or did anything dangerous, but maybe that’s why I keep getting myself into these horrible situations. Maybe, because I have been too shy trying to live my life on the good side, bad things flock to me. Maybe it’s time to step out of my comfort zone and do something…or someone.

If being Maci’s best friend for years has taught me anything, it’s how to seduce someone. Not that I ever cared about her ‘ways’ in the past, but they might come in handy tonight.

I just want to forget.

My hips sway from side to side as I make my way up to the bar. Sitting on a stool next to the tall, tanned man that caught my eye, I stick out my hand and wave for the bartender. An older, gray-haired woman slowly walks my way. There is a dirty dishtowel hung over one of her shoulders and a lit, half-smoked cigarette clinging to her pink stained lips.

“What can I get ya, doll baby?” Her voice is low, but there is no denying her Southern roots.

“Two shots of vodka, please, ma’am.” Her eyebrows lift, as she shakes her head and turns around to grab a bottle. Looking over, I see the man beside me smirk. I don’t know what I’m doing, but the not knowing, the just being here and playing it by ear, acting like someone I’m not, helps ease the pain. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but nothing about my messed up life does right now.

“Shirley, put it on my tab,” the man beside me shouts over the jukebox. He doesn’t look over at me as he brings a glass bottle up to his mouth. I watch as his lips part, and the liquid travels down the length of the bottle until it pours into his mouth. Licking my lips, I forget I’m staring until a second too late.

“Do you like what you see?” His voice is low, but I can hear his question as clear as day. His head stays straight; he doesn’t turn it when he speaks to me, so I can only see half of his face.

Did I like what I saw? I mean he is attractive in the sense that he looks like a cowboy straight from a Dodge Ram commercial. Nervousness sweeps over me like a black cloud right before a horrible thunderstorm. I know I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I am, but I am, and oddly it feels good to be bad for once. I’m sick of feeling like I’m not in control of my own life. I wasn’t when I was given up after my mother’s death. I wasn’t when I was adopted. And I wasn’t when my own boyfriend attacked me and tried to kill me. I’ve never had control, but right now I do.

“Yes, I do,” I whisper after a few brief moments of silence.

“Speak up.”

“I said I like what I see.” He turns his head slightly and we make eye contact for the first time. His eyes are a dark shade of brown and he is older than me, much older. I can tell by the faint lines of wrinkles around his chocolate eyes. You can tell he has worked hard most of his life just by looking at him. His jeans are worn in the knees, and his skin is dark from many days out in the sun.

“That a girl. You wanna dance?”

“Sure.” I try to sound older, and less scared. I think I do a pretty good job keeping my feelings at bay, but inside I want to scream at myself for being here, for doing this. Who am I kidding? I am a complete mess, and this just adds to my ever growing list of messed up days in my life.

He stands up and grabs my hand, and then leads me to the middle of the dance floor. There are a few couples dancing on it, but the bar scene isn’t really crowded during the day, so I know we will have a lot of room. We stand in the middle of the floor, assessing one another with our eyes. I feel like he is undressing me, and the thought makes me cringe, but I asked for it by coming here. I knew what kind of dump this place would be, but yet I still parked and came inside.

He takes a step closer and wraps his arms around my waist. A song comes on and our bodies start to sway to the music. Before long my body turns around, so I am facing away from him. My backside is rubbing up against his front, and for a few minutes I lose myself in the music. The way I used to do when I was younger in the studio with Dorissa. I become one with the music and allow myself to breathe, to truly feel nothing other than the beat coming from the speakers. I feel his hand slide down. It is hovers right over where my thigh and my pelvis meet and then it rests on me. His sudden touch makes me lurch away from him, but he takes a step closer to me so we are in the same position. He moves my hair over one of my shoulders and I can feel his presence next to my ear.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Isn’t this what you came here for?” he rasps as he grinds his pelvis against my backside. My eyes widen and my mouth feels dry. His touch makes my skin crawl. This is wrong. As mad as I am at my parents, Brody, and Parker, I will be even madder at myself if I do something careless out of anger.

What are you doing here, Grace? This is really stupid, and you know it.

“I’m sorry.” Stepping away from him, I march over to the rickety stool and grab my purse from it and then walk as fast as possible to the exit. I feel a hand wrap around one of my wrists, pulling me backwards. The cowboy licks his lips.

“Now what is a pretty, innocent, little girl doing all the way out here, if she ain’t lookin’ for trouble? You want to get into trouble, baby, I have plenty of stuff we can do.” I twist, trying to escape his grasp, but he grips my arm tighter. I’ll probably even have a bruise. My eyes dart around the room, but no one is even looking at us, much less cares, I’m sure.

“We can do this the hard way or the easy way. The way I see it, you marched your sexy, little ass in here to see what a real man is like. Baby, I’m all the man you’ll ever need. Let me pay
our
tab and take you home. You look like you need to be fucked senseless.” I feel like I’ve been stripped bare of all my clothes and am nothing more than a piece of ass to this man. How dare he talk to me, let alone another human being, like that? I feel like screaming or throwing up from his nasty attempt to lure me to leave with him. Looking up into his eyes, eyes that are now full of nothing remotely related to sexy, I open my mouth and spit in his face. He cringes as he lets go of his hold on my arm and uses the same hand to wipe away my saliva that has covered his cheek. He wipes it off and then put his finger in his mouth and sucks on it.

“Pervert!” I scream before turning around to beeline for the exit. I jump in my car and lock the doors. Who knows what this man is capable of? As I buckle my seatbelt, my cell phone sitting on the passenger seat starts to ring. It’s Maci. I’m not ready to talk to anyone yet, especially after I feel like a part of me was just sexually assaulted.

What were you thinking? How could you be so naïve, Grace? Did you really expect anything different from some stranger?

“Ahh! Son of a bitch, you’re so fucking dumb!” My voice doesn’t sound like my own as I shout and scream and my hands fly up and attack the steering wheel. The song of my cell phone ringing over and over brings me back to reality. Who the heck is calling nonstop? I decide to answer it. God knows I can’t take much more, so whoever is calling this time better have a really good reason for blowing my phone up.

“Hello?”

“Thank God you answered. Where are you? It doesn’t matter. You need to hurry home. Your dad had a heart attack and they just rushed him to the hospital.”

“What? When? How do you know?”

“Parker called me. Your mom called you, but you didn’t answer, so she called Parker. Everyone has been trying to get a hold of you!”

“Is he okay?”

“Grace, I don’t know. Parker said your mom sounded frantic.” Without saying goodbye, I hang up and pull out of the parking lot. Speeding in and out of traffic, I am reminded once again of the never ending mess my life has turned into. Pushing the thoughts of my pity party to the side, I focus on driving to the hospital.

He can’t die. God, please, I beg you. Please.