ROCKED BY GRACE (LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES Book 1)

by M. J. Schiller

  “Sure.” She folded it over her arms.

  I twisted a little. “Is she breathing?”

  Payton bent, rotating her head so she could look in Grace’s face. “Grace? Are you breathing?” No answer came. “I think she’s breathing.”

  Not exactly reassuring.

  “So, what do you know about that Brad?”

  “Brad?”

  Oh, shit. She didn’t tell her best friend about it? Maybe they’re not that tight.

  Well, if Grace didn’t reveal it, I sure the hell wouldn’t. “Yeah,” I diverted, “wasn’t that the name of one of those guys you were dancing with?”

  “I don’t think so. They said their names were Wes and Michael.” She took a sharp breath in. “But maybe they were lying.” She said dramatically. I was really starting to like her. I wondered if she and Rafe would make a good fit.

  “Do you have a boyfriend, Payton?”

  She burst out laughing and then stopped abruptly. “No.”

  “Oh.” I shrugged my free shoulder. “You probably just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

  “Maybe.” She snorted. “But I found a lot of the wrong guys.”

  I looked up. “We’re there, aren’t we? Thank God.” I was breathing heavily. “Now the steps.”

  “Do you want me to help?”

  “Well, I thought about switching her to my arms, but I’m afraid I’ll drop her. If you could get the door….”

  She climbed ahead of us and held it. Once in, she snuck past us. “I have a key.”

  “Oh, good. I was wondering about that.” I checked my path. Three flights. I could do this. “Here we go,” I said under my breath.

  When I struggled to the third floor, Payton had the door open. The lady from the night before was on the couch. “Oh, wow. Is she okay?”

  Payton answered. “She’s fine. Had a few too many fishbowls.”

  The lady raised her brows. “That’ll do it. Jamie went to bed about an hour ago. He was exhausted from…” she glanced at me, “last night.” She studied me before shifting her gaze to Payton. “Uhh…should I stay?”

  “No, we’re good, Holly. I can try to find her purse and pay you….”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch her later.” She gave me another doubtful once-over. “Good night.”

  I huffed. “Payton. Bedroom?”

  “At the end of the hall.”

  The door was cracked when I got there, so I shoved it open with my foot, hoping I didn’t wake her little brother. Now, to get her on the bed…. I clumsily bent over and got her rear on the bed and Payton helped me lay her back. Then we needed to spin her. She moved her head from one side to the other on her pillow, her face scrunched up. “Oh, I don’t feel good.”

  Payton and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. “Shit.” She ran around to get on the other side and we helped Grace to the bathroom. Payton got the lid open in the nick of time.

  “Oh, God,” Grace cried.

  Payton lifted her head. “I’ve got this.”

  “Are you sure?” She seemed a little green herself.

  Grace lurched forward again, and Payton put one hand on her back and waved me off with the other. I went out to the living room. My arms felt like taffy that was stretched too far, and my neck and back were harmonizing in the key of pain. I didn’t want to leave until I was sure everyone was okay. I plopped onto the couch and stretched out to alleviate my back. I groaned. I was beat. Physically, emotionally, spiritually beat. I twisted my head. My ball cap sat on the table. I must have left it in the hall. For some reason knowing she brought it in, and didn’t light it on fire, made me feel good. I grabbed it and held it on my stomach, tipping the one I was wearing forward to block the light from the lamp on the end table behind me. I yawned. At least I’d be here if that Brad guy showed.

  Poor Grace. It was my fault. She wouldn’t need to go out and get ripped if I stayed away. Maybe I should leave now before I did any more damage.

  I’d wait to make sure Payton didn’t need any help, then I’d do what she asked me to do ever since I got here. Leave her alone.

  Grace

  When I opened my eyes, I wished I hadn’t. The light was blinding, and my head was screaming for mercy it wouldn’t receive. But there was Jamie to take care of, so I would have to drag my butt out of bed. I felt guilty I wouldn’t give him my best today. Sitting on the side of the bed, working up the energy to stand, I turned to look back toward the window. Hangover aside, the light seemed too bright for this early in the morning. I squinted at the clock.

  Shit. Jamie must be starving.

  I stood a little too quickly and discovered I had a string of mystery injuries. My ankle hurt and appeared to be a little swollen. My forehead was tender to the touch for some reason, and it seemed like I’d hyperextended, or somehow strained, a muscle in my right armpit area. That one hurt the most. I shuffled out of the bedroom rolling that shoulder and trying to work out the pain, but wincing with each rotation. A faint odor of burnt food permeated my nostrils, which didn’t help my nausea. Alarmed that Jamie might have tried to cook for himself, I hobbled faster, using the wall as counterbalance for my hurt leg, all the while telling myself Holly just burnt some popcorn last night. As I got closer, voices drifted down the hall from the kitchen, and I stopped. My lips quirked. So either Holly or Payton had spent the night and made breakfast for Jamie. Must be Payton if the food was burnt. The idea tickled me. Either way, I really owed somebody. Getting up at whatever insane hour Jamie did would have made this day murderous.

  The smile faded from my face when I heard his voice.

  “What do you mean catfish aren’t purple?”

  “They’re gray,” Jamie stated matter-of-factly.

  I crept forward and peeked in. Zane’s and Jamie’s chairs were close together as they worked on the same, full spread coloring book page. Jamie had Zane’s black ball cap perched on his head while Zane sported a blue one.

  “But we don’t have a gray crayon.”

  Jamie explained patiently. “You use the black one, but do it lightly.”

  We had the same conversation about the lack of a gray crayon a few days ago.

  “Well…maybe this catfish is like a punk rock catfish who dyes his scales to be different from the other fish.”

  Jamie shook his head with a grin. “Oh, Zaner.”

  Zane chuckled and tugged on the bill of his cap.

  “Gracie!” Jamie hopped down and came to hug my waist.

  Zane pushed back so quickly he almost toppled the chair. “Oh, hi.” He glanced around and popped to his feet to take some syrup laden plates to the sink. “I…uh…thought you’d sleep longer.” He rinsed them off.

  “Zaner made pancakes but they were terrible.”

  I rubbed Jamie’s back. “Oh?” I couldn’t help but be amused.

  Zane twisted with a broad smile, clicking his tongue. “Come on, they weren’t that bad.” He leaned against the counter.

  Jamie peered at me and shook his head, sticking his tongue out.

  Zane looked at me sheepishly, drying his hands with a towel. “Okay. They were pretty bad.” Still holding the towel, he pointed at Jamie. “But the second batch was decent, weren’t they, buddy?”

  He shrugged. “They weren’t as good as Gracie’s.”

  Zane clutched at his heart. “Ouch.”

  I grinned. “Mine are pretty good.”

  “Oh, I see how this is going to be. You all are using that whole brother/sister thing to gang up on me.” He turned back to open the dishwasher and put the plates in. “He wanted five trillion, but settled for one hundred bajillion.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Gracie, come see what Zaner did to the clownfish.”

  Zane shrugged. “I’m Zaner now, Gracie.” He seemed proud of it.

  I checked out the coloring page. Zane put a red nose on the clownfish and a polka-dotted hat. I laughed. “Very nice.”

  Zane nudged Jamie. “See? She likes it.”
Zane looked at me, his mouth open in a smile, but slowly his face fell. He lowered his head. “We-e-ell I guess I should probably get going.”

  “No-o-o!” Jamie ran over and clutched Zane’s waist like he had mine.

  Zane fell off-balance and grabbed the counter, letting out an exclamation of surprise and delight.

  Jamie peered up at him and Zane brushed his hair back. “Do you have to?”

  “Well, buddy….” He considered me. “I probably should.”

  I pursed my lips, wrinkling my brow.

  He dropped his gaze to Jamie, resting his hand on Jamie’s head. “You’ll be good for your sister, right?”

  Jamie nodded, but turned his cheek to rest it against Zane, squeezing him tighter. Zane’s expression softened and he bent over Jamie, giving him an awkward hug back. Then he took Jamie’s shoulders and squatted. “I had fun this morning. I’ll have to remember, catfish, gray, clownfish orange and purple, right?”

  “Orange and white.”

  “Oh, yeah. Orange and white. Got it.” He encircled Jamie with his arms and laid his cheek on Jamie’s hair for a second before straightening.

  Jamie hung his head then took the ball cap off, looked at it, and gave it to Zane. “Here’s your hat.”

  Zane smiled sadly, took it, and put it right back on Jamie. “You keep it.”

  “But it’s yours.”

  He tugged on the bill again. “It’ll make me happy to know you have it.” He moved forward, not making eye contact at first. “Bye, Grace. Thanks—” He glanced to the side and took a deep breath. “Thanks for everything,” he said sincerely, his gaze roaming over my face. He dropped his chin and quickly moved past me into the living room.

  I couldn’t speak. My heart was in my throat. His hand was on the doorknob. “Zane!” I screamed.

  He swung around with an expression of alarm.

  “Don’t—” Forgetting about my ankle I took a step forward and almost went down. Faster than I would have thought possible he was at my side, supporting me.

  “The ankle?”

  “Mmm.” It throbbed. I gritted my teeth. “Yeah.”

  “I was afraid of that. You twisted it pretty good on the dance floor.”

  Wait. He was at Phil’s?

  The pain in my ankle suddenly seemed the least of my worries. “Fire escape.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes and went back to coloring. “Uh-oh.”

  Zane looked at Jamie. “What? What does that mean?”

  “Payton says it means she’s in trouble when Gracie says that.”

  Zane blanched. “Oh.”

  I grabbed on to the kitchen chair, then transferred to the table, and to a chair again on my way to the window.

  “Are you sure you should—”

  “Yes.”

  Zane sucked in a breath. “O-o-okay.”

  “Good luck,” Jamie said resuming his coloring.

  Zane tried to help me on my other side. “Thanks.” He moved in front of me. “Let me go out first and then I can maybe help you on the other side.”

  Rather than climbing through, like I usually did, I sat on the sill and swung my legs out, and Zane pulled me to my feet.

  “Do you want to sit on the stair?”

  “Probably should.”

  He helped me to get settled then sat beside me.

  I hesitated. “Uhh. This is kind of embarrassing.”

  He waited with a quizzical look on his face.

  “You… were at Phil’s last night….” I tried to make it a statement rather than a question, but he saw right through it.

  His lips lifted in the corners. “You don’t remember.”

  “I remember some of it,” I said defensively.

  He laughed.

  “A fishbowl was involved….”

  “Two fishbowls.” He combed through his gorgeous hair.

  “Two fishbowls?”

  He nodded. “You know, they give you those things with multiple straws so you can share them.” He peered up at me, raising an eyebrow and wearing that shit-eating grin of his.

  I could feel the tug of a smile on my lips. “We shared.”

  He jumped on that right away. “You shared two. That’s one apiece. Plus you were drinking something else on the dance floor…and a couple of glasses were on the table, too.”

  “Ooh. No wonder I feel like shit.” I tried to recall the rest, but it only came in snatches. “Was there some…inappropriate dancing on my part?”

  He stared straight ahead enjoying this far more than he should. “I guess that would be a matter of opinion. But yes, there was some dancing and that’s how you hurt your ankle. Let me see that.” He assessed it. “We might need to wrap it. Do you have any Ace bandages?”

  “Probably, but we’ll get to that later. If my ankle was that messed up, how did I get home?”

  “Well,” he squinted ahead, “to be honest, I didn’t know how bad your ankle was, but…uhh….”

  That didn’t sound good. “Tell me.”

  “No. It’s not something you did, it’s something I did. And I was kind of hoping to leave on a high note.”

  I waited. I learned through Jamie that if I waited long enough, people felt uncomfortable with silence and they eventually talked, telling me what I needed to know.

  He sat back, resting his arms on the stair behind us. “I probably shouldn’t have done this. But I didn’t see any other way in the moment.”

  “Yes…?”

  He sighed and looked to the side. “Well, I decided—someone who has no right to make decisions for someone else when I’m such a fuckup myself….” He sat forward, obviously agitated by whatever he was about to admit. “I decided it was time for you to go home. These guys were lurking around, and I didn’t like the way they were acting with you and Payton, and…when you wouldn’t leave on your own—” he got to his feet, turning to face me, “—I slung you over my shoulder and took you on out of there.” He raised his gaze right away to catch my reaction.

  My mouth hung open. “You just…picked me up, and slung me over your shoulder and carried me out like a sack of potatoes?”

  He grimaced, looking in through the window at Jamie. Then he squatted in front of me. “But those guys were— I don’t know. I was worried. And…maybe a little jealous, too. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  It came flooding back. I was dancing, his hands were on me, I wasn’t listening….

  “Wait. I remember now. It was a definite Hyacinth incident.”

  His face clouded. “What the hell does that mean? Payton said that last night. Hyacinth, fire escape…it’s like I need a translator. You guys have your own language.” He sat back on his tush, knees bent, hands hanging loosely between his legs.

  “Sometimes in a Hyacinth situation you have to take drastic measures.” I knew that only too well through my experiences with Payton. “Hyacinth is a code word we use—predominately I use—to tell the other person they are getting out of control. Believe me, if I could have put Payton on my shoulder and carried her out of some places, I would have.”

  He exhaled, closing his eyes. “I’m so glad you understand.”

  “So then you put me in your car—”

  “That may have been the logical thing to do, but I wasn’t sure I could transfer you safely, and at that point you were still a flight risk, so I carried you home.”

  I blinked. “All the way from Phil’s?” That was like, four blocks.

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to make me out to be some kind of he-man. It was difficult for me. But carting anything that distance would be,” he hastily added.

  “I imagine. So you brought me home, put me in bed….”

  “Then you got sick.”

  “Oh. I remember that.” I poked my forehead where it was sore. “That’s why my head hurts. I kept hitting it on the toilet seat lid when I, you know, got sick.”

  “Really?” He leaned forward, lifting my hair to examine it. “It looks a little puffy, but I don’t think it’s b
ruised.” He stilled, his mouth hanging open a little, and his gaze wandered over my face. He abruptly stood. “So, anyway. Now you know the whole sordid story. You didn’t do anything awful, so…no worries.” He gestured toward the window. “Anyway, I should go.”

  “Do you have a show tonight?”

  “No. We’re on a two week hiatus.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  “Uhh…I’m not sure to be honest. I’ll figure it out. Can I help you back inside?”

  I took his hand. “Wait, please. I have a few more questions.”

  He studied our hands then gave mine a squeeze and withdrew his. He turned his back, walked over to the railing, spread his arms out wide and leaned on it. “Okay. Shoot.”

  I wanted to see his face, but I was afraid to trust my ankle yet. “Why were you there last night? I thought you left.”

  He spun around slowly and peered at me. Leaning back on the rail he let out a breath. “Like I am now, I wasn’t sure where to go. And I was a little concerned about that Brad guy.” He pushed away from the railing. “I was afraid he might try to come back here so I wanted to, you know, make sure you got home safe.” He glanced to the side, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “That’s all.”

  He’s so cute. He slept in my hall. Carried me home. Wanted to keep me safe from Brad…and two guys who may or may not have been a threat. Tried to make pancakes for Jamie and colored with him—

  “I’d like to say one thing more, if I could.”

  I nodded.

  He took a few steps closer. “Although I made these words seem hollow and meaningless with my behavior yesterday, I am speaking them from my heart. I wish I could take back the hurt I caused you. You are an incredible woman and you so deserve to be loved and treated like one by someone a whole lot better than me, and—though it kills me to say it—I hope that man finds you and brings you great happiness. Thank you for letting me get to know you and Jamie.” He nodded toward the window. “He’s a great kid, and I’ll always remember my time here.” He took a deep breath. “I’m done.” He looked toward the window. “Should I tell Jamie goodbye, or would it be better to—”