A Graceful Mess (17 page)

“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 street 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 walks 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.

“Parker?” I ask for the second time this morning, praying he is in there.

“You wish, Princess,” a male voice says before a hand slides the curtain to the side revealing a naked male body – a naked male body that does not belong to Parker.

“Carson, gosh, I am so sorry!” I exclaim, turning my body quickly around in the doorframe to face the opposite wall in the hallway.

“Don’t be sorry. I know you were just looking for your lover boy, but he isn’t here.”

Wow.

He is just as gifted as Parker in that department. My thoughts shouldn’t automatically go there, but they do. I blame it on the massive hangover. My brain has no control over its thoughts right now.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll be on my way then.” Before I make it out of the doorway a hand grabs my forearm pulling me backwards. My back rests against Carson’s soaking wet chest; I can feel him breathing down my neck.

“You could always stay. I’m sure your head is pounding. I could always make you feel better,” he whispers into my ear, causing the little hairs on my neck to rise. Oddly his voice sounds a lot like Parker’s. I have never noticed it before since he is always talking in that annoying slang. My throat swallows hard, as I try to remain composed and in control of the situation.

“I’m…I’m…” My voice shakes and I stutter as his body hardens against my back.

“I’m fine, Carson. Thank you for checking, but I, umm…I have to go now.” Stepping away from his chest I run right into the blonde from the kitchen. She must be cold as her nipples are alert and hard.

“Carson, I didn’t know you had someone else here. Are you in the mood for a threesome this morning?” Her voice reminds me of a valley girl as she giggles and jumps up and down. She is way too excited about the idea of a threesome. Her enthusiasm makes me feel dirty. Knowing I have to get away from this weird situation, I push her to the side and step into the hallway. Josie is sitting on the floor whining, so I grab her collar and walk to the patio door. Opening it and pushing her outside, I slide on my shoes and grab my purse. My head throbs as the door slams behind me, but I would rather have a pounding head than a threesome with Carson and Barbie any day of the week.

The gravel beneath my feet hurts as tiny pebbles get stuck between my heel and the leather sandal as I walk the down Parker’s mile long driveway towards the road. Huffing from my annoyance at this morning, I reach into my purse to grab my cell phone. My hand slides against a piece of paper as it cuts my flesh. Pulling my hand out, I raise it to my mouth and suck on the little red slit. It stings from my saliva, but it stops bleeding. Grabbing the paper from my purse I realize it’s a note. Skimming the words my heart instantly feels heavy as I read the signature.

Sweetheart,

Here I am again writing you a note after a drunken night. There is a small plastic bag tucked into your purse with two Advil and a small bottle of water. Please take them and drink the entire bottle and do me a favor, DO NOT take open drinks from anyone ever again. You were too messed up to be drunk. Someone had to have slipped you something. Please be more careful.