Quentin’s gaze followed Laney as she walked toward the doorway. Before walking out, she turned back to him. “She doesn’t trust either one of us now. We both have a long road ahead.”
“I intend to do whatever it takes to gain her trust.”
“As do I.”
Laney disappeared through the doorway, and Quentin remained behind his chair. He tilted his face toward the ceiling; Grace’s room was almost directly above him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost visualize her curled up on the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally cried herself to sleep, the echo of her pain heavily lying over his heart like a paperweight. It killed him to know she was hurting. If only he could be a dream walker for a day, he could give her the dreams she deserved for a night.
Slowly, he made his way to his bedroom—the one directly across from Grace’s. He paused in front of her door. Softly, he placed his hand against the wood. Every breath, all the soft pulses of her heartbeat, each tiny sleeping twitch resonated within him as if they were his own. Yes, his bond with her was stronger than with previous Chosen, but he wasn’t too sure if it was solely from the seneschal band anymore.
When Friday came around, Grace found she didn’t remember much from the previous two days. Her emotions were so frazzled, she didn’t want to be around anyone. To make sure everyone at school stayed away, she told them she had a stomach bug, and it had been coming out both ends. As expected, they left her alone after that.
After spending lunch hidden in the bathroom stalls the last few days, she decided to make an appearance in the cafeteria. Getting only a bowl of soup, she sat at the table with her friends. No one really noticed her. Either that, or they all worried about catching whatever she had. Can’t catch this, guys, she thought glumly. With her spoon, she played with her soup.
“Hey, Grace,” Tommy said from the other end of the table. “You know, you don’t have to come tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.”
Geesh, guys, I have a fake stomach flu, not the bubonic plague. Aloud, she changed her tone, trying to sound upbeat. “Actually, I’m feeling better. I’m just a little tired. I still want to go tonight.”
“Okay, sweets, but if you change your mind, or you start to feel bad again, just stay home,” Emily said.
“I’m fine, I promise.” Grace tried to sound convincing. “Hey, Tommy, if you see Zeke, let him know I’m still going.”
“Why didn’t you tell him in Keyboarding?”
“Because I didn’t see him.”
Emily turned to Grace. “Who are you riding with tonight?”
“Myself.”
“Why don’t you ride with us?” she suggested. “We can pick you up after we pick up Leah.”
It only took her a minute to think about it. She didn’t want to drive by herself, and she certainly didn’t want to ride alone with Zeke. “What time will you be by to pick me up?”
“I have to be there at seven since the show starts at eight thirty,” Tommy said, before Emily could answer. “So we need to be leaving town no later than six forty. Be ready to go by six thirty.” Tommy obviously understood female time.
“Yes, sir!” Grace said, mocking him with a half-hearted salute.
Tommy smirked. “At least you got my name right.”
When the bell rang after sixth period, a frisson of fear crept along Grace’s skin at the thought of running the gauntlet to her car, making the tiny hairs on her arms and nape of her neck rise. Ever since the Shadow Hounds had prowled the school parking lot, she’d feared their return. She knew Quentin was somewhere watching, so being afraid was stupid. Since finding out Quentin had lied to her too, she’d refused to talk to him. But he followed her to and from school anyway, sticking to her like her crappy mood. She wanted him to leave her alone, except that after school was the most likely time they might come back.
She took a minute to grab the books she needed for her weekend homework, glancing at the locker next to hers—Amanda’s—and realized she hadn’t seen her in school since Monday. Mentally she made a note to call her sometime over the weekend. Grace hoped her absence didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Peters.
The air outside was torrid and suffocating again. She wished the warm front would move somewhere else already. For the hundredth time in the last couple of weeks, she considered putting air-conditioning in the Shelby and once again, ixnayed the idea. She still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her loyalty to her grandfather annoyed her. Why couldn’t she just put the darn air-conditioning in the stupid car?
Because.
Because deep down she wanted to believe all of his secrets and lies were for her own good. She didn’t have the heart to change anything that remotely reminded her of him, including what was now her house. An ache settled in the center of her chest at the mere thought of redecorating. She purposefully put the thought way on the back burner of her mind.
As she stood next to the driver’s side door of her car, she spotted Quentin’s Jag parked across the street. His hand hovered above the partially rolled-down window before hesitantly waving. She got into her car, pretending not to see him, and drove away.
“You’re not going with me, Quentin,” Grace lashed out in protest.
“You can be mad at me all you want, but I’m going.”
“So what, you’re going to be parked outside all night like you do all day at school?” she said with her hands on her hips.
Her eyes narrowed to slits, Grace watched as Quentin ran a hand through his wild black hair, pushing it with irritation away from his eyes, while the other hand loosely held the area just below his hip. “I will if I have to.” His bunched muscles loosened as he widened his stance. He seemed desperate. She didn’t care. “Damn it, Grace.” His words came out in a hushed plea. “You have to let me protect you. I understand you’re mad at me—”
“Do you?”
He ignored her interruption. “I understand why you’re mad at me. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and trust me again, but until then, all I’m going to be is your annoying sidekick. Because I’m not. Going. Anywhere.”
“Fine,” she yelled, marching out of the foyer. Halfway up the staircase, she shouted down to him without stopping, “I have to get ready. My ride will be here in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be ready to go too,” he shouted back up to her.
With a “humph,” she slammed her bedroom door.
Twenty minutes later, Grace was thankful to be in the backseat of Tommy’s car. Relieved, she laid her head against the back of the seat. Her bones slowly settled and her muscles relaxed as her body pressed into the upholstery. She could finally pull in enough air to expand her lungs. Grace watched the colors of Utah pass by while she stared out the window.
It wasn’t until they were on the on-ramp of the highway when Grace realized Leah was bouncing nervously. “Are you alright?” Grace leaned over, speaking loud enough for only Leah to hear. Leah’s attention stayed on the window, her stilled foot the only clue she heard Grace when it stopped wagging. Smiling absently, she offered an “Mm-hmm,” and went back to flapping the sandal from the toe of her right foot, which was crossed over her knee. She knew Leah was only nervous because Brian was going to be there. Let’s hope the night will at least turn out good for her, Grace thought. She’d lost hope for herself.
Tommy was visibly nervous as well. He kept fisting the steering wheel so tightly, the skin on his knuckles pulled tight and turned white. He didn’t say two words the whole way to Bountiful. Every few minutes, Emily glanced at Tommy, smiling from ear to ear. “Proud girlfriend” oozed off her in possessive waves. Grace tried nonchalantly to peek out the back window, wondering if she would see Quentin tailing them. Luckily, no one in the car appeared to have noticed as everyone else was lost in their own thoughts.
The Board Shop was in the middle of town in an old theater that had been renovated. Tommy parked his Blazer across the street, but didn’t move too quickly from his seat, instead tilting his head and focusing upw
ard. They all followed his gaze, settling on the lit-up marquee as flashing lights ran laps around the edges. Large red letters at the top announced the night’s main attraction, Falling Down. The name on the bottom in slightly smaller red letters spread across the center of the marquee like a giant bull’s eye—Distant Echo. Tommy leaned back in his seat for a moment, his eyes shining and his smile a mile wide, obviously enjoying his band’s fifteen minutes of fame.
They all piled out of the car, everyone quietly smiling. The heaviness that had covered them like a blanket in the car seemed to dissipate with every step closer to the building. Grace tried spying with her little eye a certain someone as she inconspicuously glanced from left to right before crossing the street. That certain someone was incognito, but she wasn’t stupid. Her Guardian was there … somewhere.
Tommy left them once they were inside to go find the rest of the band, while the three girls looked around for the nearest bathroom. Twirling around like a hyperactive ballerina, Leah spoke up. “Found it. It’s over there!” She pointed toward the back of the large, open room. Grace finally saw the restroom sign above the door to the left of the stage. Leah beelined for the sign, with Grace and Emily following after her.
Soon, all three girls stood in front of the mirror evaluating their reflections, trying to determine if they appeared concert-ready. Since it was still early, the restroom was blessedly peaceful and they didn’t have to jockey for space in front of the mirror. Later in the evening would be an entirely different story.
“Well,” Grace said, yielding to the image. “Trust me, I don’t get any better than this. Ready?” Emily bounced up and down on her toes, visibly excited enough to pee her pants. Leah’s face paled. She was worse than in the car.
Leah’s gaze fell to the floor for a moment as she took a steadying breath. She looked up, her eyes pained with insecurity, and asked plaintively, “Do I look alright, you guys?”
“Absolutely,” Emily said.
“Of course,” Grace assured her. “You always do.”
Leah was cute and petite with a sweet, innocent Alice In Wonderland vibe, except she had a fashionable blonde bob rather than Alice’s long locks. Her hair was short, almost jaw length in the back, coming to a longer collarbone length in front. She was totally adorable, and Grace tweaked her hair and gave her a grin to remind her of that. With another deep breath, Leah walked briskly out of the bathroom. Emily shot Grace a knowing, exasperated glance as they picked up the pace in order to keep up.
The lights outside the bathroom were turned up more than when they had first entered the building. The walls were painted black, adorned with skateboards of every imaginable shape and color, and the carpet was blood red. Red curtains fell from above the stage, pooling in organized disarray atop the wood below. Stage lights hung from iron posts above. Round white lights bordered the wood platform from left to right. The music from arcade games reached Grace’s ears, encouraging her to guess what games they were. In the corner was a small coffee bar. Grace looked around, impressed with the venue. She didn’t know there were so many different types of skateboards a person could buy. She liked the place. It had a funky but fun vibe.
Grabbing Grace and Leah by the elbow, Emily ushered them forward. “Come on. Let’s get a seat up front before they’re all taken.” Emily was so predictable: she always sat in the very front row whenever Tommy played, in the middle seat at the middle table in the middle of the room. She was dead center in the middle of the stage. A raging fire wouldn’t get her to move from that seat.
“I wonder if these tables can be moved?” Grace asked, trying to scoot the table next to theirs closer.
“Why?” Emily asked.
“For starters, where’s your boyfriend going to sit when he’s not onstage? In your lap? There’s only three chairs to a table and these are already taken. Plus, Zeke and Brian will need a place to sit, and so will the rest of the band.”
“Good point,” Emily said, reluctantly getting up to help slide tables and move chairs.
“See,” Grace said, plopping down in the seat next to Emily. “Better, right?”
Emily didn’t respond, too engrossed watching Tommy help the guys get the instruments ready. Grace eyed the stage, not really interested in watching the band set up, but there wasn’t anything else for her to do. Zeke wasn’t there to talk to, Emily didn’t want to talk, and Leah was clearly too nervous. Grace glanced at her friends and wondered when they both became nothing but about the guys they crushed on. She wondered if she should be concerned, or thankful she hadn’t met anyone who completely consumed her like that.
Much to Grace’s surprise, eight thirty rolled around before she knew it. People-watching happened to be one of her favorite pastimes, and as the room quickly filled up, there were plenty of people at The Board Shop for that.
Tommy stepped up to the mic, holding nothing but his confidence. “Hi, everyone.” The crowd hooted and hollered. His only saying hello disappointed her. This crowd was way bigger than at Latté Da’s and in a different town. It seemed a better way would have been a shouted, “Hellooo, Bountifullll!” with a fist in the air. Maybe she was dreaming too big for Distant Echo right now?
“This one’s for my baby.” Tommy grabbed the mic from the stand, then glanced back to the band to give them their cue. The drummer started first, keeping tempo for the guitars to follow, then the keyboard. True to his word, he didn’t scream words into the mic that made her want to curl in on herself and protect her ears. It was nice. Grace listened with excitement and fascination, mixed up with a little relief. The music definitely wasn’t like it was last week, and she found herself starting to relax.
Emily made sappy lovesick eyes at Tommy the whole time he sang. Every now and then he’d make eye contact back, winking his acknowledgement of his girl. Each time he did that, it was like a fan-girl took possession of Grace’s best friend’s body. She screamed, shouted, and fanned her face. Sweet and funny and rather annoying, Grace thought. But all in all, she really was happy Emily had found love. Her mind drifted a little, thinking about where Emily and Tommy’s relationship might go, and she thought about how she would kick her butt if Emily ditched her plans for going to college, a goal she’d shared with Grace and had been planning together since they were little girls.
Leah, on the other hand, sat on the edge of her seat, nervously turning around every few minutes looking toward the front door. A couple of songs in, Zeke and Brian finally showed up. Grace waved in their direction so they’d know where the group was sitting. Zeke sat next to Grace—no surprise there—and Brian sat next to Leah, which actually did surprise Grace since he was shyer than her. Apparently Leah was shocked as well. When the song was over, Zeke leaned on the table closer to Grace.
“Sorry we’re late. I couldn’t get my damn car to start.”
“Uh-oh,” Grace said with a slight smile.
He tried saying something else, but the music started up again and drowned out anything he attempted to say. Distant Echo played a couple more songs and then announced the headline band was coming on next.
Thumping drumbeats had Grace bringing her attention back to the stage. Her heart stuttered as she focused on the band. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. Standing only ten feet in front of her, dazzling underneath shining, brightly colored lights, was none other than Darius. He was the lead singer of Falling Down, the main act. Stunned, Grace listened intently as the band started to play.
The music was loud and angry. Not quite mosh-worthy, but close. Grace could only make out a word here and there. She understood enough to know the song was about lying and trust. Basically, about her life.
Zeke inched uncomfortably close, trying to talk in her ear. Every now and then she’d smile and give a polite nod or shake of her head. After a couple of nodding “Mm-hmm’s” and a few head-shaking “Uh-uh’s,” she wondered if she’d unknowingly agreed to anything. She scooted closer to the edge of her seat, meaning to make it clear she didn’t want to ta
lk. She wanted to listen to the music. And to watch Darius.
When the song ended, Grace had to restrain her inner fan-girl. It was tough staying in her seat when all she wanted to do was jump up and down and scream. Listening to Darius sing made her want to slide off the chair into a puddle of goo under the table. Emily deserved a pass, she realized, as Grace finally totally got it.
“This next one’s called ‘Killing Man’ by Jack Savoretti.” Darius put the mic back in its stand and the band began a slow, ominous rhythm that shushed the crowd. Darius’ eyes closed as he hung on to the mic like a lifeline.
Grace’s knees trembled. This guy was definitely a danger to the heart. Her mind shot off warning bells to leave. Now. She bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring it, and tightened her fingers around her knees. The melody swam over her, making her shiver. She took in a cursory breath, and struggled to take in another. She should get up now, walk away. But the first line chained her to her seat.
In the haunting timbre of his voice was an outpouring of emotion that completely captivated her heart. Everyone and everything fell away as she sat enslaved, caught up in every word he sang. The song was a crying out of his soul. She felt it as surely as she felt her own heartbeat.
Darius was gone to the melody. The sad curve of his lips left her picturing ways to make them happy, wanting to feel them softly turn upward against her own. Wonderful, she thought, now I’ll never be able to stay away from him. Zeke whispered again in her ear, but she couldn’t make it out. Didn’t care to, either.
Darius didn’t open his eyes until the song was over. When he finished, no one moved. At first, there was only silence, and an eerie expectation that hung in the air. Something magical had happened onstage, and the crowd felt it too. All of a sudden, the roar of applause and shrill whistles jerked Grace back to her senses. Darius waved to the audience to quiet them, picked up his guitar, and swayed slightly to and fro as he started plucking the strings. He had yet to make eye contact with her. Still mystified by the song, she wondered what it meant to him.
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 14