Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) (48 page)

Grace dropped her hands. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. “Quentin,” she whispered.

“
Damn it, Grace. This is me. These are my emotions, not yours.”

Why hadn’t she felt any of this before? How did he hide it from her? And how in the heck did he know she feared feeling her own emotions reflected in him? This can’t be happening, she thought, shaking her head. Confused, she gazed down at her open, helpless hands. “How’d you know about my hands?”

“
Because I know you…all of you. I’m sorry, Grace. I thought it would be best if I hid how I felt from you. I figured if we kept things between us strictly Chosen and Guardian that it would be easier, but I was wrong.” His hands squeezed her arms a little tighter. “God, I was so wrong. Every time you kiss him I feel it, and it’s gut-wrenching. A piece of my heart breaks with every piece of yours you give away. Every day you’re with him is like a dagger to my soul.” Quentin swallowed and stared down at her with glistening eyes. “I kept my feelings from you, I know that, but please give me a chance to make it right.” She was speechless, and a few more tears left warm trails down her face. “Let me be the one to fall for you. You are worth falling for.”

Grace’s head spun. I’m worth falling for? What does that mean?
She couldn’t handle any more. Too much stuff was thrown at her today, she couldn’t process any of it, and now he was making it harder. Pushing away from him, she shook her head. “I can’t do this right now, Quentin. I need to think and I can’t do that with you touching me.”

Quentin took a step back, quickly pushing his hands in his pockets. “I understand you need time.”

Shaking her head again, sadness constricted her chest. “No, you don’t
understand. I don’t trust you. Every time I turn around, I find out you’ve lied to me, and the reason for it is justified in your mind. Not to mention the last couple of months…” Unable to finish her sentence without full-on sobbing, she blinked back more tears.

“
I know, and I’m sorry, Grace. Please
.
” He took a step toward her, reaching with a hand.

Grace threw her palm up. “Stop, Quentin. Just leave me alone for a while.” Without another word, she hurried out of the kitchen, and bounded up the stairs.

“
He’s Fallen, Grace.”

She froze on the staircase as the dreaded word not only echoed through the foyer, it ricocheted painfully against the confines of her heart and mind. Her throat went dry, desiccating the words she wanted to yell back at him. She turned and searched his face, looking for some glimmer of hope that when he had said “Fallen” he meant fallen in love. But from the warning in the eyes that stared back at her, she knew he meant literally. He meant Fallen as in…her enemy. She was wrong. He managed to say something that hurt worse than basically calling her a slut.

Shaking her head, it didn’t make sense. “Why would he help protect me then? Why didn’t he just ki—h-hurt me?”

“
Because he’s a liar. That’s what he does, he deceives.”

The pain of what he said made it hard to breathe. Every breath she took in felt like knives going down, slicing away pieces of her on the way back up. She couldn’t move. With one hand, she grabbed the railing for support, and held on to her chest with the other. The drumming from her painfully contracting heart thumped against her palm. Small flashes of light bounced around the edges of her sight. Her mouth fell open as she tried sucking in large gulps of air, and concentrated on not passing out. Not to mention trying to come to grips with what Quentin just dumped on her. She bit back the tears threatening to fall again. She wouldn’t give Quentin the satisfaction.

The sound of soft footsteps coming up the steps had her jerking her head to peer over her shoulder. Quentin didn’t come up any further. Quickly, she whirled all the way around. “See, Quentin, more lies. You’re a liar too.”

“
But I couldn’t tell you.” He brought both hands up in the air, his eyes were full of grief.

Dropping her arm to her side, she felt defeated. He didn’t get it. “And there’s the justification.”

Grace’s phone taunted her from the nightstand, almost daring her to text him. How could it be true? She didn’t—no, she
couldn’t
believe it. Why would Darius lie, pretend—toy with her heart?

“
Because, he’s a liar. That’s what he does, he deceives.”
Quentin’s earlier words kept rattling around in her head. The warm milk would be no help; she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight—possibly not for a while.

As Grace lay there, trying to will her mind to numb, she felt the fractures of her heart splintering. Grace liked Darius, quite a lot, actually. She was dumb enough to think she might actually be able to have something normal with him, no matter how brief. Right, the joke was on her. He was anything but normal. How could she be so stupid?

It felt like everyone around her did nothing but lie to her … Quentin more than any of them. He and Darius were cut from the same cloth. It made her sick. The sob Grace held deep down bubbled to the surface. She couldn’t hold on to it any longer. It hurt way too much. She rolled to her side, pushed her face hard into the pillow to muffle any sounds, and screamed her pain and frustration. She screamed until her throat was scratchy and raw. By the time she stopped, her pillow was sopping wet from her tears.

Grace no longer trusted anyone. She was completely and utterly alone—again
.
The last time she had looked at the clock, it was 3:05 a.m. School was going to be beyond rough. Right now would probably be a good time to rethink going back to school at all. That too was something that hurt too much to do.

The buzzing of her alarm clock didn’t serve as a wakeup call that day. It was a reminder of how many hours she’d lain sleepless under the covers. Brutally, she slammed her hand against the top of the clock to make it stop screaming at her, but then reached for the button and simply turned it off. She wouldn’t be going to school today.

All through the night, every single moment from the time her grandfather had died until now replayed over and over in her mind. It was one huge puzzle she kept trying to piece together. But no matter how she might fit the pieces or force them together, it always came back to the same thing.

She was a fool.

People say time heals all wounds. She highly doubted the saying could apply to her this time. How does anyone ever get past being lied to over and over again? Especially by the ones who are supposed to protect you.

The good news, if she could even call it that, was that she was all cried out. Yay
.
She’d cried so long and so hard, her eyes were almost swollen shut. Licking her dry, chapped lips, she tasted salt from her tears.

Gritty sand scratched against her eyes as she opened them to slits to judge the distance from her bed to the bathroom. It was just as far away as the last time she looked. Right now, she wouldn’t be opposed to a bed pan. But since she didn’t have one, the only thing getting her out of bed was the promise of water for her throat and eyes.

In front of the bathroom mirror, Grace rested her palms against the countertop. The person staring back at her was unrecognizable, which only made her want to cry more. She was thankful she didn’t have it in her to do it. Grace hoped that by the time she could cry again, she wouldn’t feel the need anymore.

Every muscle in her body hurt. Her feet dragged heavily along the floor, her body barely strong enough to carry her back to bed. Curling in on herself, Grace covered her head with the blanket.

There was a first time for everything. Grace had always been so protective of the Shelby, and of course Amanda had asked nonstop to drive it. But when Grace told her through her locked bedroom door that morning to take it, she no longer sounded so excited. When Amanda got past her shock and finally relented, Grace breathed a sigh of relief. It took too much energy to convince Amanda to take it. If Amanda hadn’t taken the keys when she had, Grace probably would have ripped her bedroom door open and pushed her down the stairs.

Grace shut her bedroom door and fumbled back to bed. Swimming in and out of consciousness, she let sleep take her. She barely came to when her mom lightly tapped on her door. It was a little harder convincing Laney to let her sleep, but she too left Grace alone, believing she was sick. And she was out like a light again.

When she finally came to again, opening her eyes didn’t hurt as bad as earlier. The painful grittiness was gone. Reaching for her phone, she pulled it close to her face. Her eyes might not have hurt as bad, but her sight was blurry. It was a little after three and she had several texts, all from Darius.

Darius:
Can’t w8 2 c u.

Darius:
Can’t stop thinking of u.

A cry hitched in her throat, and tears pricked like sharp needles at her eyes. It was a sick game to him. To Grace, it had never felt like one. She didn’t know how she did it, but she forced both back down. Apparently, she could cry again.

Darius:
How was school?

Darius:
C u in a couple of hrs.

There were so many things she wanted to text back, but knew there was no use. He was what he was, and she was what she was. There was no changing that. Some things couldn’t be helped.

Grace:
Sorry I didn’t text bak earlier. Im home sick. Can’t c u l8r.