by Vi Carter
“I still need John Deere’s newest addition.” His little voice pleaded.
“Is that so? How much is the newest John Deere?” I asked while sitting down beside him.
“Not sure. Thirty or a hundred,” he glanced at me sideways, dimples still on display.
That day I had taken him to the local shop, lifting him up to the top shelf where he took down his tractor. His eyes never left the possession in his hands. To him the tractor was gold. To me, he was gold.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. The pain in my stomach became too unbearable to even sit still. I shook my hands out, my way of coping. As I shook them, the pain subsided along with his face, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, while still shaking out my hands. Another face pushed through, but this one I pushed back. Guilt welled up inside of me, igniting the pain in my stomach. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms as tightly around my legs as I could. The pressure on my chest from my knees caused me pain. But her face faded, and I released my legs. Adele’s voice dwindled off as it moved to the next song, and I heard banging on the door. I got out of bed and paused the music while listening; someone banged on the door again. Standing behind the bedroom door without entering the main room I continued to listen to the knocks. I should answer the door, but my legs wouldn’t move. My insides were too raw.
“Grace?” Amber’s voice easily penetrated my cheap timber front door. I shook my hands and legs out trying to pull myself together before opening it. Amber entered, holding two coffees, her eyes analyzing, calculating, and then narrowing as she closed the door. “Look, I’m not here to shit on your pity party.” I froze, but Amber pushed a hot coffee into my hands, leaving me no choice but to take it. “But I have allowed this for two years every Sunday. It ends. Now.” Going with ‘what are you talking about' to my best friend wasn’t an option. But right now, I couldn’t answer her even if I wanted to. So, I nodded and, proving what an amazing friend I had, she nodded back while wiping the tears from the side of my face. “It’s not fair,” Amber said after wiping all my tears away.
“What?”
“How beautiful you look, even when you cry.” I laughed, and it gave me a small release. My tense body loosened, and I sat on the couch, taking a sip of my coffee. Amber sat in the armchair across from me. “Any word from Claire or Craig?”
“Nothing,” I answered, the disappointment clear on her face. “Is this why you are crying?” She sat straighter now, ready to kill whoever made me cry.
“I swear I haven’t even checked my phone.”
Amber sprang to her feet and swiped my phone off the counter. Privacy seemed to be a thing of the past in my home. “Oh, Claire rang you three times and two texts. She was saying how sorry she is. And how much she values your friendship, blah blah blah,” Amber did an elaborate eye roll. “She sickens my arse.” I didn’t reply, this was like a broken record with me and Amber. I liked Claire, and she didn’t. Amber went silent; a sign she was reading something juicy.
“What is it?” I asked, and she raised a finger silencing me. “Give me my phone.”
“Wait.”
“Amber,” I protested, and she looked up at me. Her face was so serious causing my stomach to twist. “What? What?” I was panicking.
“Shit, sorry Grace. It’s just Craig,” I took my phone and sank back into the couch as I read the messages; they were just his normal ramblings. Skimming over the message before dropping the phone into my lap, I took a calming breath. For a moment, I had thought the worst. Like someone was dead. I always thought the worst; it was a possibility in my life.
We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our coffees. Amber was examining me over the rim of her cup that she kept close to her lips while making deliberate noisy sips. She wanted to talk about the messages; I didn’t, so I kept my gaze on the ground. Her noises got louder until I glanced up at her with narrowed eyes.
“Fine, talk,” I said, and she put the coffee on the table before curling her legs under her.
“OMG, I knew it! He’s, like, in love with you.”
“Amber you say that about Claire, so it has no merit.”
“He says it in his message. Lord Grace, you got to put that boy out of his misery.” Amber leaned back a smile of glee grew on her face. “You need to sleep with him,” she added.
I ignored her statement. “He likes me because he doesn’t know me, and it’s ‘the not knowing’ men find attractive,” I drank my coffee, satisfied with my analysis.
Amber snorted, “What a load of shit. They know you. They don’t know a few things about you, but they know you.”
“How’s your sex life?” I asked, knowing it would divert the conversation.
“I know what you’re doing. But since you asked, fabulous.”
I spent the next thirty minutes listening to how fabulous Peter was. Right now, he was the new flavor of the week. That could change in a moment with Amber. She continued to tell me that Peter was amazing, and could do things that should be made illegal. I laughed a lot at her descriptions; that was Amber’s intent. I also hoped she was joking because half the stuff was just gross. We chatted for a while longer, but I had assignments to catch up on. “Okay, if you need me just ring,” Amber blew a kiss before leaving.
After Amber left I ate a sandwich, showered and took out my economics book to study, just as someone knocked at the door. I sat for a moment, considering ignoring it.
“Grace, I can hear you in there.” His words had me holding my breath. I didn’t want to talk to him. “Come on, Grace.” the bang of his fist on the door made me jump. I wasn’t answering the door now, that was for sure. He was never violent towards me, but I didn’t need an argument, not with an angry Craig.
CHAPTER THREE
GRACE
THE SPRAY OF THE hot water from the shower relaxed all my muscles. After drying off I got into my favorite bed-time shorts, baggy t-shirt, and rainbow-colored knee-high socks. I piled my hair on the top of my head. The popcorn popped away in the microwave and Erin Brockovich, the movie, was ready to be played. That’s when my phone rang. Claire’s name flashed up on the screen. I had a moment of considering whether to answer it at ten-thirty at night.
“Hi, Claire.” I did the right thing and answered it.
"Oh, thank god. I need you to pick me up. Craig is like a lunatic, he’s crazy and scaring me. I don’t want to be here…"
"Calm down, Claire. Take a breath." She did as I asked. My tone came out sharper than I intended. But with Claire it was always so dramatic.
“Please come get me.” Her voice quivered as if she had been crying. I didn't waste time and grabbed my runners and car keys before leaving my cosy apartment. The night was cold as I made my way to my car.
“Give me the address,” I said, and she did.
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me on the front driveway," I said while jumping into the car. I prayed it would turn over; it did on the first go. Normally it took a few starts, the starter often played up. It may have needed a new one. The car was ancient. There was never a dull moment with Betsie.
Twenty minutes later, I parked at the address that Claire had given me with the addition of a headache. I definitely had the right house as music poured from the two-story building, the front lawn peppered with red cups. A beautiful rose bed was getting watered with sick. The driveway and lawn held way too many cars. Light poured from every room in the house, allowing me to see all the people milling about. This part of the neighborhood was nice and screamed money.
“You have reached Claire’s voicemail...” I hung up for the seventh time. My stomach turned with anxiety. I quickly pulled my hair out of the pile on top of my head and let it fall down covering half of my face. I locked the car and prayed that no one noticed me. My t-shirt covered my shorts, making it look like I was wearing a t-shirt, knee-high stockings and nothing else.
“Nice socks.” Someone called, but I didn’t turn to them, instead I made a beeline for the front doo
r.
“Nice outfit,” a girl said as I passed a group that stood in the hall. I gave a tight smile, but died inside. The noise in the main living room was insane; all the furniture sat tightly against the walls, the center of the room acting as a dance floor. The floor was slippery with alcohol, making it tough to walk on. I looked around, searching for Claire, but not seeing her. My anxiety rose. A guy who could barely stand nearly fell on me. I pushed him away before bumping into another guy. In the process I knocked his drink all over his shirt. My face flamed as his friends laughed. “I am so, so sorry,” I shouted over the music, hoping he could hear me. He looked pissed for a moment, before scanning me from head to toe, a slow smile formed on his face.
He leaned in and spoke loudly in my ear. “I don’t know whose bed you fell out of, but why don’t you fall into mine?” The assault of his breath had me wanting to scratch the inside of my ear. I didn’t feel sorry for him anymore. Instead, I moved around him and into the next room. More people filled the kitchen, but it was hard to see with all the smoke, the noise level wasn’t as bad, but now visibility became the problem. “Sarah.” I recognized a girl from my class, she seemed relatively sober.
“Hi. Great outfit.”
“Thanks. Have you seen Claire?”
“Oh yeah, she’s in the basement. And be warned, Craig is on the warpath.” This wouldn't be good, the basement meant either a god-damn orgy or a drug fest. I said my thanks and made my way down into the basement. Different music pulsed down here, couches that didn’t match filled the room along with a huge pool table. The room held mostly males and, to my surprise, they actually played pool.
“You came.” Claire appeared from my left smiling, and I wanted to kill her so badly.
“Claire, I told you to meet me outside.” I hissed.
An arm slung over my shoulder. “We kissed and made up so I told Claire there was no need to leave.” Craig smiled; his eyes told me he had more than alcohol in his system.
“Okay.” I deadpanned. I didn’t need the drama, so I turned and made my way up the stairs, only to have Craig on my heels.
"I called by your place the other night, and your workplace." I moved through the kitchen and into the crowded living space. Someone grabbed my arm, and I fell into Craig’s chest. "I’m talking to you," he spoke through clenched teeth.
“You’re hurting me.” The minute Craig let go of my arm, I moved towards the front door. The cold air cooled my burning face.
“Why are you being such a bitch?”
I really should have ignored Craig. I didn't want to cause a scene, but he already had, as I neared my car, I stopped and faced him. “You’re high, Craig. I thought you had quit?”
He rubbed his nose and shrugged. “What are you talking about?”
I shook my head and continued to my car. Moving around to the driver’s side, I attempted to open the car but Craig slammed his palm against the window, stopping me from getting into the car. “Move now,” I warned him, my hands tightened on my keys. A few people observed, but no one intervened.
“No. Talk to me.”
I looked around, knowing he wouldn’t stop. “Fine, talk.” I folded my arms. He didn’t move away from the driver’s door; instead, he leaned against it as an arrogant smile crossed his face.
“I know you want me.”
No. There was no point in asking him if he was high, he clearly was. I didn’t respond and his smile faltered. When I still stood there with my arms folded he pushed off the car, moving into my personal space. “Craig,” I warned again, a slight pleading tone had entered my voice, hoping he would hear it and stop. "I promise we can talk tomorrow. But right now, I want to go home." I kept my voice level, reasonable.
“No. Now.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Fine, talk then.” I shouted and immediately regretted it. Where was Amber when I needed her? She would have just pushed him out of the way.
“Why have you been ignoring me?”
"Because I don’t want a row. I clearly hurt your feelings, Craig. You’re my friend, but I don’t see you in that way."
“Hurt my feelings? Hardly, little Grace.” His laughter had attracted two guys who also seemed high. My face flamed at his condescending tone.
“Great talk.” I told him as I opened the car door, and he slammed it shut. My phone fell out of my hand and hit the ground.
“I’m not finished.” He yelled.
“I am.” I told him as I tried the door again, and he slammed it while moving into my personal space again, and for the first time, I actually felt frightened. I was captured between my car and him. “Craig, please.” I saw something cross his face but when the two guys moved closer, his arrogant smile returned.
“Is she with you?” one of them asked, my heart pounded faster. I tugged at my t-shirt trying to cover my legs, but I only drew more attention from them.
“Craig.” The whine of Claire’s voice had me relaxing with relief. “I've been looking for you,” She pouted pushing out her already large bottom lip. Craig hadn’t looked away from me, and either Claire didn’t care that he wasn’t paying her attention, or she didn’t notice. “Craig,” she tugged on his arm and he finally stepped back and kissed her full on the mouth, before turning to the other guys.
“Nah, she’s free,” he said throwing his arm around Claire’s waist and moving away. Claire didn’t give me a second glance. I think she was high, too. I just needed to get out of here, and these two guys still stood at my car. The one that had asked Craig if I was free looked me up and down. Movement behind the guys had me glancing up as a figure materialized behind them.
He hadn't come from the party. His jogging clothes gave it away, the hood of his top covered his head, and sweat coated his face. He had removed the earphones, and they now dangled down his chest, the blast of rock music still playing. I noticed blond dreadlocks at the side of his neck. I stared at him, finding it hard to look away, he was gorgeous. The two guys turned around at the same time. One of them raised his hands “Don’t want no trouble, bro,” he said while walking away. The Jogger stared at both guys, the look of murder in his eyes had me glancing away, until he spoke.
“Then I suggest you leave.” His rough voice captured my attention again.
The other guy took a step back, slightly startled. I didn’t blame him, dreadlocks guy looked like he could do some damage. Both guys gathered themselves and walked away. My rescuer stared at them until they disappeared back into the house. Then he looked at me.
I still hadn’t spoken. His eyes were crystal blue, and the lines under them from what I could assume was lack of sleep just made them stand out more. They nearly didn’t seem real. My heart galloped loudly. My cheeks darkened, thinking he might be able to hear it.
“Thank you.” I managed to mumble. My eyes were drawn to his bottom lip as he sucked it in. His lips were perfect, the bottom one larger than the top.
“Maybe if you wore more clothes, you wouldn’t attract guys like that.” His husky voice made funny things happen in my belly, but his words penetrated the spell that seemed to be cast over me. His comment was like a bucket of ice-cold water splashed on my face.
Did he just say I brought it upon myself? My blood boiled. It shouldn’t have mattered what I was wearing, no one had a right to intimidate a girl.
“Asshole.” I said, before getting into my car. I slammed the door for extra emphasis. With my hand still on the handle, I nearly fell out as the door was whipped open. “Oh my god, what?” I asked as jogger guy stared in at me. My heart skipped a beat, but I tried to ignore it. I was so sick of guys stopping me from going home. “What now? You want to give me another lecture?”
He opened his hand and my phone sat neatly in it. “I assume this is yours?”
I took it and died a little more. I didn't get a chance to thank him, as he closed the door, put back in his earplugs and jogged off. I sat like a fool staring at him until he disappeared out of sight. Disappointment swirled in my stomach w
hen he didn’t look back. Then I remembered what I was wearing and my face flamed with embarrassment.
It took four tries before my car started. After Jogger guy had left, I had locked the doors and driven off. I pulled into my parking spot. The engine still hummed as I removed the keys from the ignition. The fan was still working hard to cool down the engine. I waited until it no longer made a noise before getting out. I checked my phone it was past midnight.
Just great.
My apartment still reeked of popcorn. I grabbed a handful, eating it as I threw the rest in the bin before climbing into bed. I pulled the blanket over my head and found myself smiling as I pictured blue eyes. The good looking ones were always assholes. A gorgeous asshole. But still an asshole.
DEREK
“Shit,” I mumbled while I jogged back to my car, knowing Grace would reach the apartment block before me. I didn’t expect her to be attractive. This would have been a lot easier if she was ugly. But she was beautiful. Not that it mattered to me. She was off-limits, I reminded myself. I had to think of my family.
When I had entered my apartment yesterday, I had found a list of instructions typed up by the psychopath, Emmett. Along with information on his sister, showing me how much of a creep he was. The list consisted of her likes, dislikes, her friends’ names, along with her mobile number and even her class schedule. Pretty much her life on paper.
I had enrolled at Clarkes University, and my first class would be the same as Grace’s. ‘So we could bond.’ At twenty-six, my college days were long over. Nowhere on the information Emmett had left me had he stated a time frame. I cursed him again as I pulled into the apartment carpark and looked at the other cars. Grace’s beat-up car sat in its usual spot. It made no sense to me; Emmett was loaded. Why the hell she would drive such a piece of shit? Not to stand out? She was smarter than Emmett. Keeping a low profile, unlike him with his Bentley and five thousand-dollar suits. I locked my jeep and entered the building; it would all be over soon, I told myself.