Still Falling (Falling Series Book 2)

by Lucia Grace

  “Now wait a goddamn minute, Tracey. If anyone is the jackass, it’s me.” I emphasize by using her given name and jabbing my thumb into my chest. “I was a fucking asshole that night. I admit it. I was wrong. Was I pissed that you didn’t tell me? Yes. Was I fucking angry that you decided to lose your virginity on one night with me? Yes. But that was in no way because I think you’re easy. So stop that bullshit right the fuck now. I never said it and I never meant it. It’s because I want you to want more for yourself. Because you deserve more. More than one night with an asshole like me who can’t give you what you deserve.” My chest is now heaving with harsh breaths, as tears well and threaten to fall from her eyes. “So I’m sorry for making you feel how I did. I’m sorry for treating you so poorly when you should know nothing but good in this world. I didn’t mean any of it; I was just so fucking shocked that I let my head run my mouth instead of stopping and thinking with my heart.” And I was feeling so much that I was scared out of my mind of ever having to let you go.

  “I just don’t fucking get it,” she scoffs.

  “Watch your mouth. I’ve never heard you curse this much before and there’s no need to start now.” I glare at her. “And what don’t you get? I’m fucking sorry, and I want to go back to the way things were. What’s not to get?”

  She scoffs again. “Pot meet kettle. I can swear if I fucking want,” she taunts back. “And what I don’t get is why you belittle yourself so much. Why you don’t open yourself up more. Why you say one thing but act a different way. And most importantly, why you hide the real you.”

  Seems like we’ve just taken a one-eighty. “I don’t hide myself—”

  “Yes, you do, Damon. You hide behind this bachelor lifestyle. I know you do. Because I catch glimpses of this amazingly tender and sweet man, but just as soon as he’s there, you shut him down. I especially know this after our night together and just now with your declaration on how I should only know the ‘good in this world’.” She tosses up air quotes; mocking me. “So why? Why do you hide that part of yourself from everyone?”

  “Yeah, that’s what you think? I’m not hurting anybody with how I live my life,” I scoff. Getting pissed off all over again. She’s hitting too close to home now, calling me out on my shit.

  “Yes, you are. You’re hurting your friends by keeping them at a certain distance all the time. You’re hurting me. But most importantly, you’re hurting yourself by never letting anyone in. No one that matters anyway.” She stares me down as she utters each word. I hear her underlying message though. I see her hurt. I feel it. But I ignore it because I can’t let her see how much she’s affecting me and how close she is to exposing something so dirty that we’d never be able to bury the filth ever again.

  “I have a lot of sex with a lot of girls because I love pussy, Ace. Variety is key to making my dick happy. Don’t go romanticizing bullshit to make it seem like it’s for a reason. It’s not.”

  My harsh, crass words surprise her. I can tell. I’ve never talked to her like this before. Well not since that night. I’m serious when I need to be, but usually I keep things light. But fuck, she struck a nerve, bringing out my defenses. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

  She snaps from her shocked position against the shelves she leaned on during our fight and steps forward, hands to my chest, and gives a little shove. “I want you gone. Do you hear me? I want you to walk out of this storage room, out of my café, and out of my damn life!” Tears now fall unchecked down her face. The agony exploding across her features searing me like a hot blade. “We will never be able to go back to the way we were. Not ever. So just leave and don’t bother ever coming back.”

  Her hands are still plastered against my chest since her shove didn’t move my large, bulky frame. My dark hands encircle her much paler wrists. Her sad eyes flare at the contact and mix with anger at my touch. “Let. Go,” she grinds out. Our heaving chests rubbing against each other.

  Before she can pull away or utter another word, I slam my lips down on hers and taste everything she has to give and take everything she’s holding back. My fear of losing her from my life the driving force behind this bruising kiss. I can’t lose her. I refuse to.

  Her hands are fisting my uniform as I move mine into her hair. Disrupting the mass of hair knotted on top of her head. My tongue is plunging into her mouth, dueling with hers. Her breaths are harsh. My teeth are nipping. When she unleashes a groan, I almost explode in my pants.

  This right here is what I’ve thought about more than anything since our night together. The way our lips move in perfect rhythm, the way our breaths give life to the other, the way everything feels so right in this world when she’s in my arms and her lips are on mine.

  My hands are now under Ace’s thighs, but before I can lift her, so she can wrap her lush legs around my waist, a shocked squeak sounds behind us. Breaking the moment.

  “Uh, oh God, I’m sorry. But, Tracey, I, ah, I need your help back out front. It’s getting kind of busy again.” I can barely hear Cora’s soft voice over our combined panting.

  As if Ace just realized she was still plastered to my chest, she steps back as she shoves me, this time dislodging my arms and making me step back. She bumps into the shelves behind her before scurrying around me. Quietly muttering “Oh God” over and over again to herself, her fingers tracing her kiss-swollen lips.

  “Yes, I’m so sorry, Cora. Damon was just leaving, and I’m coming back out front. Right now.” Cora turns and quickly leaves, leaving a still panting Ace and me to face off. Yet again.

  “Look.” She breaks the silence first. “I accept your apology, okay? You’re sorry, you messed up, you didn’t mean it. Fine.” Big brown eyes lock on mine. “But I still can’t forgive you and that kiss doesn’t change anything. And can never happen again.”

  Fuck. “Ace—”

  “No. No more ‘Ace’. No more games. Just no more, Damon. I’m done.” My eyes slam shut at the finality in her tone. “Now, I’m going to go back out front to work, you’re going to get the hell out of here, and if by chance we’re in the same room as each other, we’ll just pretend like nothing ever happened and that we’re still friends for the sake of everybody else.”

  She doesn’t give me a chance to respond. She just walks out of the room, leaving me standing there with the taste of her still on my tongue, the feel of her still on my hands, and the realization that I’ve fucked us up beyond repair.

  Wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks, I can feel the heat of shame and sadness warm my fingertips. Cora offers me a look of apology and understanding before she goes about taking another order. As I walk to the back counter to offer my help, I see Damon pass through and push his way through the swinging partition with his knees, the door knocking back and forth violently after he’s through. I can hear his heavy-booted footsteps stomping toward the door. He doesn’t even turn around before he walks out. Not even a glance over his shoulder or a hesitant step.

  I try to will myself not to feel the sting of another rejection, but then remind myself that this is what I want. Him to be out of my life so my heart and soul can mend from the battering his words and actions inflicted on me.

  When I heard him walk in tonight, then felt his eyes on me, I could feel his tension and agitation fill the room. I just knew tonight was different. That he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that we would be talking. That didn’t stop me from trying to evade his intensity, although it didn’t work. I couldn’t believe it when he burst through the backroom door, knocking into my butt and making me drop the stack of napkins I pretended we needed out front. But I should have; that man has never liked to be told no.

  Then his apology. His words. They struck a nerve and had my head and heart battling with each other. My heart wanting to believe what he said that night wasn’t true, but then my head reminding me that it can never forget how he made me feel. He seemed so sincere.

  And that kiss. Lord, that kiss. I could feel it from the top of
my head to the tips of my toes. He took me by surprise and had me losing my head. Thank goodness Cora interrupted when she did, because who knows how far I would have let him go. I have no self-control when I’m around Damon. And that’s what started this predicament in the first place.

  “Are you okay?” I hear whispered behind me; shaking me from my thoughts. I turn my head to see Cora filling a mug with the daily brew. Gray eyes on me. Then I scan the café behind her and see it isn’t busy at all. “I could hear you two arguing back there. So I thought I’d help…” She trails off.

  I offer a forced smile, embarrassed that she must have heard why we were arguing. “I appreciate it. But I’m fine.”

  Cora timidly shrugs her slender shoulders then turns back to hand over the coffee she was pouring. My mind wanders back to Damon, that kiss, and how my heart will never be the same again.

  With tears in my eyes and sadness in my heart, I vow to stick behind my words and remove Damon from my life. As much as it hurts, that’s the only way I’ll ever be able to move on from the pain he has caused me. He may have given me the greatest pleasure I’ll ever know, and set my heart on fire unlike I could have ever imagined. Because of that though, that night changed everything, and we’ll never be the same again.

  And I don’t know what’s worse—making that decision or the fact that I need to start believing it.

  “Thanks for stopping in. Have a great night,” I call out to the last customers before following after them and locking the door behind them.

  I lean my forehead against the wall next to the door as the lock clicks, my hand to the panel of the door. Taking a deep breath, I relive the events of the last couple days. First Damon, then our argument, and the subsequent kiss that left me breathless and defeated. His audacity to actually come into the backroom, corner me, then demand we talk, sets my blood on fire. But that kiss…remembering that kiss has my lips tingling and my heart aching.

  Then that damn Teddy Wilkes and his need to keep badgering and harassing me filters through my mind. I swear that guy lives to make my life hell and just can’t take a hint. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him when he walked through the door—a cocky and sure smile on his face when he saw me catch sight of him. That smile slipped really quick though when I declined with a resounding no after he walked up to the counter and asked me out straight away, not even bothering with small talk or even pretending to be interested in ordering anything. Instead of getting angry like he did the last time he asked me out, a cold calm seemed to overtake him. He just gave a curt nod of his head, his beady brown eyes never leaving my face, before spinning around without another word. I don’t know which is worse, his anger or his eerie calm.

  Stepping away from the door, I roll my neck to relieve some tension, and make my way to the first table and start flipping chairs over to set on the tabletops before I sweep and mop the floors. My mind on a constant loop of Damon—our fight, the kiss, him walking away.

  When I finish flipping over the chairs at the last table and begin to start wiping down the booths, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as a chill runs down my spine. I feel like someone is watching me. I spin to look out the front windows and door, but see nothing. My mind seems to be playing tricks on me. Must just be tired.

  As soon as that thought passes through my mind, the feeling of fear starts to skitter across my skin right before a loud crash explodes throughout the café. As glass smashes, I bring my arms around my head and duck as it begins to rain down around me.

  I stand when I hear the sound of boots crushing glass to see a greasy figure walking through the broken-in door. Shards still hanging onto the pane of the window. Teddy.

  “Wh-what are you doing, Teddy?” Screw hiding my fear. I feel nothing but fear and desperation looking at him standing there, crowbar in hand, eerie calm still in place.

  “I came to finally make you mine,” he replies in a dry, bland tone. As if he’s on autopilot.

  I move to run around the counter to get to a phone as Teddy lunges for me, the clattering of metal hitting the wooden floor as he drops the crowbar. A scream erupts from my lungs as I’m grabbed from behind, my long ponytail wrapped around his fist and yanked back. It causes me to smash my left hip into the corner of the counter, and I roll my ankle in my haste to get away. Another scream rips from my throat before I’m silenced by a hand to my mouth. His forearm pressing tightly against my chest.

  Teddy brings my back flush to his front and I can feel his arousal poking into my butt. I gag behind his hand when the stench of his putrid breath hits me as he whispers into my ear, “Come on, Tracey, let’s have a little fun. You know you wanna.”

  He loosens the hand at my mouth when I keep quiet, giving me enough room to bare my teeth and latch onto his palm.

  “Ow, you stupid bitch,” he screams before dropping his hand and yanking even harder on my hair then punching my side.

  “Ahhh, stop!” I scream, as I fight against his hold and the pain erupting along my ribs. Twisting and turning as I feel clumps of hair rip out of my scalp from his tense grip.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he yells as he changes direction and drags me behind the counter by my hair. Effectively blocking me from view.

  “I’m going to make you pay for that,” he spits out, right before he lets go of his hold on my long hair. The sweet relief is short-lived though, because as soon as he lets go he smashes a closed fist to the side of my head, knocking me down to the floor. Ensuring I go nowhere.

  Agony explodes in my skull, causing black spots to dance around my vision. Then I feel his weight settle on top of me. Terror grips my last semblance of clarity as Teddy begins raining blow after blow down on my body as I continue to fight to get free. My voice now raw and barely audible from my violent screams.

  Another blow to my head has the black spots growing, and before I lose complete consciousness, thoughts of the one person I wished could save me flash through my mind. Then darkness completely takes over.

  The pedal is touching the floorboard my foot is slamming it so hard. The lights are flashing and I’m a blur of blue and white as I fly down main street.

  Pleasant Beach is a small town; I was on patrol across town, about twenty minutes away by the highway, when I heard the call come through the radio about an attempted robbery and assault. Then I heard the address and took off like a bat out of hell. Not giving a fuck about anything else. I need to make it; I need to get there.

  To Ace.

  I haven’t seen her since our fight the other day, when I realized I fucked up even more than I thought, but she needs to be okay.

  Please, God, let her be okay.

  I haven’t prayed in years. Many years. Not since I was a kid, naïve enough to believe in a higher power that could serve redemption. Not since my innocent mind was tainted with the filth that lives inside some. But for her, for Ace, I’m praying. I’m praying for her to be okay so I can finally get off my ass and make us right. She’s been a fixture in my life for too long to live without her now. And ever since I was buried deep inside her I’ve thought of nothing but her and that night.

  As I come up to the Coffee Press, my stomach bottoms out and my heart jumps to my throat. Oh fuck. Two fire trucks block main street off. Red lights flashing. My eyes scan the scene in front of me to see the ambulance backed up onto the curb, facing the smashed-in front door.

  Before my squad car is even fully in park along the sidewalk, I’m swinging my door open and running out. Shards of glass crunching under my boots.

  The officers standing by the caution tape wrapped around the front of the café see me coming and don’t even try to stop me. The murderous look on my face has them lifting the tape and moving out of the way.

  I’m storming around, not sure where to go first, when I see Kayson step out of the back of the ambulance. He looks exhausted, distraught.

  My heart plummets with my stomach.

  “What happened? Is she okay?” I don’t even try to h
ide the panic in my voice when I reach him.

  “Fuck…it’s bad, Dame…”

  “What the fuck happened?” I ask again. I need answers. Now. But at the same time I don’t want to hold him up. “Just hurry and fucking tell me what you can.”

  “I need you to remain calm when I tell you all of this, Damon. I fucking mean it. This is all shit I overheard the responding officers talking about when Paxton and his partner were strapping her onto the stretcher. It isn’t pretty, and I get it because I’m burning fucking mad too, but I need you to reel it in and keep your shit together.” His eyes are imploring me to listen to him.

  “Yeah, man. What-the-fuck-ever, just fucking tell me,” I rush out.

  He heaves a deep breath as he tries to catch my eyes that are busy scanning the shop over his shoulder. Assessing the damage, imagining what the fuck could have happened.

  “From what I was told she was closing up for the night, alone, and the front door was smashed in.” He brings a hand to the back of his neck and rubs it before continuing. I swear I can hear the gallop of my heartbeat against my ribcage. “Mr. Wilson from the antique shop across the street heard the smash and then her screams, saw the shattered door, and called 9-1-1 as soon as he could. But the coward laid into her pretty damn good before anyone could arrive.” He ends quietly, looking down. But I catch the look in his eyes that he’s trying to hide.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Kase?” My heart takes on a rhythm so fast I think I’m going to pass out.

  He looks up. “The fucker that broke in.” He swallows harshly. “When Mr. Wilson called it in he assumed it was a B&E. Some prick breaking in for cash. But when the first responders arrived they found…they found Teddy Wilkes on top of T, her shirt ripped open and him working on her pants…”