Shattered Grace

“Call me as soon as you get home,” Emily called out, leaning over the passenger seat as she dropped Grace off after their shopping trip.

Grace barely stuck her head in the open passenger window. “I will.” Waving good-bye, she calculated she had just enough time to run upstairs for a touch-up. Once inside the front door, she pulled her shoes off by the heels, dropped them on the floor, and sprinted up to her room. Grace reapplied all of the necessities—deodorant, powder, and lipstick. A couple of squirts of perfume and she was date-ready and waiting downstairs.

Ears perked, Grace stopped pacing in the center of the family room. The rumbling of an engine was coming up the driveway. She breathed in deeply and let it back out, then waited by the front door for a knock, or the ding-dong of the doorbell.

It felt like forever waiting there. Grace leaned against the door, softly tapping her toe. Then a thought occurred to her. What if Quentin was outside reading him the riot act? She was going to kill him. Pressing her body flat against the door, Grace peeked through the peephole. She couldn’t see Quentin, but she saw Darius. His back was to the door and he was rifling through a backpack sitting on the seat of his bike. When his body hinted at turning around, Grace smiled, privately watching him move toward her.

The closer he got to the door, the more her heart beat in double time, making it difficult to breathe normally. Anxious butterflies fluttered so hard in her chest, she thought for sure one or two would burst through.

Slowly counting to ten in her head, she took a cleansing breath that made the butterflies heel, and opened the front door. The sun was sinking on the horizon, the glow from its remaining rays casting an amber-like aura around Darius’ silhouette. The tips of his golden-brown hair blazed. Beautiful. Grace sighed mentally. A smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth.

A smile slowly lifted the corners of his. “Hey.”

Despite her nervousness, she wouldn’t let her gaze fall from his. “Hey.”

At first glance, Grace didn’t realize he held something behind his back. Giddiness made it impossible to resist all efforts at taming her internal butterflies. They were defiantly doing barrel rolls with anticipation. She’d been on dates before, but she’d never received … a Nike bag? The butterflies instantly quit fluttering and dropped like stones to the bottom of her stomach.

“This is for the shoes I knew you’d be wearing.” His smile turned sly.

Her gaze fell to her feet. She wasn’t sure what she should have worn instead. “Uh—”

“Boots or tennis shoes will work. Oh, and a light jacket.”

So much for captivating. This outfit with tennis shoes and a light jacket? “Oh, okay. I’ll be right back.”

Darius’ voice carried through the foyer to her as she raced up the stairs. “Put the heels in the bag, I like them.” Okay then. Maybe she could still pull it off.

Thankful for the light brown leather jacket she couldn’t live without last year, Grace grabbed it and a pair of shoes, and met Darius at the front door. Blue suede pumps were tucked inside the bag as instructed. She stood next to him, glancing down at herself. “Better?”

“For the bike.” When he winked at her, her stare faltered. “Ready?”

“I think so,” she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

“Ever been on the back of a bike?”

“What makes you think I haven’t been on the front of one?” Kidding, Grace pulled her features all serious-like.

There was humor in his eyes, but his voice was deadpan. “Have you?”

“Well, no.”

She was rewarded with another great smile. “What about the back?”

“Not there either.” Never having sat on any part of a bike before tonight, Grace was a little nervous about getting on the back of one now. The whole concept of a motorcycle-riding guy was exciting, just minus her as a rider.

Darius’ soft chuckle pulled her from her fear-induced daydream. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” When he ran his thumb along her jawline, a shiver danced up and down her spine. Automatically, her body leaned into his touch.

It was like an anti-anxiety pill, making her feel slightly better. Thoughts of her safety, however, had her wondering where Quentin was. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since before she left with Emily. With an internal shrug, Grace followed behind Darius to the bike.

Abruptly, she stopped short, standing immobile a couple of feet from the motorcycle. “Whoa. Nice bike.”

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Watching him gaze adoringly at his silver beast of a motorcycle had her glad his bike was the only thing she’d have to compete with. It could be worse. It could be the redheaded beast, Lux.

Grace looked back to Darius, who was staring at what would appear to be his first love. “She is. What is she?”

“A 2012 Yamaha V-Max. Here…” He handed her a helmet the same color as the bike. She stared down at the helmet in her hands, wondering how to avoid ruining her hair. The plan she had worked out in her head for tonight wasn’t following her mental script.

“Don’t worry, your hair will be fine.” He winked. “I promise.”

Carefully trying not to push her pony down, Grace pulled the helmet on her head. Straps hanging, she placed her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

As Darius took the straps and latched them together, he smiled. “Cute.” Cute wasn’t captivating. Thoughts of cute kittens prancing around ran through her mind. She so wasn’t going for cute. Quietly pouting, she listened as he instructed where to keep her feet.

Darius on the front, Grace on the back, her heart raced as the adrenaline coursed through her veins, picking up even more with every rev of the engine. Hands splayed partly on his chest and on his abdomen, she could feel the taut movement of muscle. Darius grabbed her hands together in one of his, and held them against his chest before turning his head to talk.

“Hold tight like this.” Using his other hand, he wrapped her arms around his body, pulling her close. The roar of the engine was too loud for him to hear a reply, so she settled into his back and held on even tighter.

The adrenaline rush was unlike anything she had experienced before. No longer worried about the state of her hair, Grace hoped he’d go faster. Uncontrollable giggles and screams bubbled up her throat. Grace could feel the rumble of Darius’ laughter in response.

All too quickly, the ride was over. They ended up in the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant on Orchard Street, just down the road from Latté Da’s. Kicking her leg over the seat, she jumped from the bike. “Oh my gosh, that was fun!” With the tips of her fingers, she massaged her sore cheeks in a circular motion. They hurt from smiling so much.

As they entered the restaurant, Grace recognized the host. She was a girl from school. The girl sat them in the back, in a dark corner of the restaurant. Blue orchids sat off to the side of the table, their color flashing between a dark and light shade of blue as the candle’s flame flickered about. Grace excused herself and took the bag with her to the restroom. She folded her leather jacket inside out and carefully stuffed it in the bag on top of her tennis shoes. She checked her hair in the mirror, and was glad it didn’t look much different from when she’d styled it.

When Darius saw her, he got up from his seat and helped her in hers. The fragrance from the orchids wafted past her nose. They smelled amazing.

“Do you like them?” he said, nodding to the orchids.

“They’re beautiful.” She breathed in deeply through her nose to take in the fragrance.

“They’re for you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened with surprise.

“They’re yours. They’ll be delivered to your house later.”

Usually she felt uncomfortable with this kind of attention, but Darius had her wanting more. “You really shouldn’t have. Dinner is more than enough.”

“I would have had the flower shop deliver a truckload if they had enough in stock, angel face.” Trouble touched his lips as one side of his mouth lifted and a lock of loose hair fell into his eyes. Grace watched, disappointed, when he snapped his head back, moving the hair out of the way. Before he did, she pictured her hand reaching across the table, sweeping it back herself and tracing his troublemaking lips with her finger.

They talked through the entire meal. Grace talked so much she was surprised to see her plate had only trace amounts of food left. Outside, she put her shoes and coat back on and stuffed her heels in the bag.

Darius handed her the helmet. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she squealed, slamming her helmet on with loose abandon. She didn’t care if it messed up her hair this time. The ride was so worth it.

Wrapping her arms tightly around Darius, Grace laid the side of her head against his shoulder. Too nervous earlier to realize he smelled good this close up, Grace tried to inconspicuously sniff him. Spicy leather invaded her olfactory senses, touching her brain in all the right places.

As they headed in the opposite direction of her home, Grace wondered where he was taking her next. After passing Brian’s, she had a good idea. Craning her neck to see if Quentin was behind them was tough. He wasn’t there. Again she wondered where he was.

A couple of right turns later, they arrived at the lake. Grace grabbed the hand that Darius offered to help her step off the bike, before getting off himself. She handed him the helmet, and then took off her jacket, laying it across the seat of the motorcycle. Even though it was after nine, it was still warm out. Especially since the freakishly warm weather hadn’t moved on yet.

Darius stood on the other side of the bike, watching her. “I have a surprise, but you have to close your eyes, and keep them closed until I tell you to open them.”

A little uncertain, she stared at him questioningly.

“Trust me, you’ll like it.” Then he flashed her the smile that continued to make her go against her better judgment. She listened and closed her eyes. Her ears pricked at all the noises around her. It sounded like he was running all over the place, close to her and then farther away. Curiosity almost had her peeking, so she squeezed her lids tighter.

The feel of his hand at the small of her back shot an excited tingle of awareness through her. “Okay, you can open them now,” he whispered against her ear.

Clasping her hand over her mouth, she glanced around in awe. She couldn’t believe he did this for her. Tea lights were scattered like confetti all over the ground, from where they stood, clear to the water’s edge. A blanket close to the water was outlined with candles.

“Oh my gosh, Darius. It’s beautiful,” she said, barely pulling her hand from her mouth.

His smile touched his eyes this time. “When we were out here last night, you said how much you loved stargazing. I thought I’d lay them at your feet.”

Flabbergasted, she stared back at him, unable to voice a single word, much less able to breathe. She couldn’t even utter a sound. Tears welled a little in her eyes. Darius entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her softly through the disarray of twinkling ground stars. Grace stumbled through the maze, staring at the brilliant flickering lights all around. If she was in trouble before where Darius was concerned, she was downright doomed now.

Darius guided her over the border of tea lights, and helped her down on the blanket next to him. As she quietly peered up at the star-speckled sky, Grace hoped she’d see a shooting star. She would wish for more moments like this. It took awhile for her heart to go back to a normal rhythm and when it did, she found her voice again.

“Darius?”

When he turned his head to her, the darker speckles of his emerald eyes sparkled in the twinkle of the tea lights. He didn’t say anything. Mesmerized by their unique color, she whispered, “You have the prettiest eyes.”

His smile curved up in a whole lot of trouble. It was sexy as hell. His gaze went from her eyes to her mouth, almost in warning. When he cupped the side of her face with his hand, Grace didn’t move. And just like earlier, her lungs failed to work.

His gaze never wavered from Grace’s. He kept his eyes open, even as his lips pressed softly against hers. Everything around her stopped—the singing crickets, the breeze, the turn of the world…her heart. For the time being, she tricked herself into believing she could have something like this. Something real and normal. Him. She would be the one girl Darius could never let go.

Because her mom was right, she wouldn’t have normal now.

Darius pulled far enough away so they could clearly focus on each other. The corner of his mouth was still curved up in sexiness. Flutters flip-flopped hysterically in the pit of Grace’s stomach, making it hard not to shiver. She smiled back at him, contemplating whether to take the situation into her own hands by pulling him back to her. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

Her head was a whirlwind of muddled thoughts as soon as his lips touched hers again. Her heart, like the last time, sputtered as it tried hard to correct its tempo. When he kissed the bottom of her lip and then the top, she parted her lips just enough to allow his tongue entrance. As soon as their tongues joined, she lost all control. Magically her tongue danced with his—a skill she was unaware she possessed. Caught up in the moment, Grace tangled her fingers in Darius’ hair, pressing his lips harder against hers.

Darius moved his hand from the ground and cupped her face. It seemed as though he was trying to slow them down, and she reluctantly let him. Lost in the bliss of their kiss, Grace slowly opened her eyes. A smirk of satisfaction greeted her.

She smirked back. “Happy with yourself?”

Darius kissed the tip of her nose. “Actually, I am.”

Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.

A little later, he said it was time to get her home. They worked together picking up the tea lights and blanket. Arriving back at the manor, Darius helped her off the bike, and she gathered her things.

Darius twisted his fingers in hers, and Grace followed him to the door. “I had fun.”

Not quite sure how to end the night, she plucked at nonexistent lint from the sleeve of her jacket. “I did too.” She brought her eyes back up when she felt him step toward her.

Darius tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, and held her face. “Good night, Grace.”

“Night,” she said breathlessly.

Darius kissed the top of her head, gave her a quick wink, and jumped on his bike. Grace sighed and fell back against the door.

Sunday morning came and went and still no sign of Quentin. Grace wanted to search for him, but knowing where that got them the last time had her thinking up alternatives. She grabbed her cell from the kitchen counter and stilled, thinking she heard someone walking across the foyer.

Quentin walked through the kitchen doorway seconds later. His eyes raked over her with an aloofness that caught her off guard. “We have training in one hour.” Grace silently watched him grab the OJ from the refrigerator. Before walking back out, he peered over his shoulder. “Okay?”

Her first thought was to reach for his arm to see if she could gauge his mood. She even stepped toward him until his eyes went from cold to slightly angry. Grace stepped back against the counter. “Okay.” When he completely disappeared through the doorway, she still hadn’t moved. His coldness scraped painfully over her insides. Grace didn’t know what she did to him, or how to feel about his change in attitude toward her.

A part of her wanted to go after him while the other part, the part that refused to put up with anyone’s crap any longer, kept her feet bolted to the kitchen floor. If Quentin wanted to be a jerk, fine. He could see just how much fun she could be as well.

An hour later, Grace stood outside the office door, nervously eying her gray yoga pants and tank top. Never having done any kind of training other than Zumba here and there, she hoped what she was wearing was fine. She didn’t want to make the edge Quentin was on any sharper than it already was.

She turned the door handle, and talked herself into entering the office. Other than the light coming from the bathroom, it was dark. Quentin left the linen closet open for her at least. Grace could feel the cool air from the passageway below. She stepped inside, one foot at a time, and the steel door slid closed and locked with a click behind her. This time the hallway was already lit, the angel torches having activated when Quentin came through the moment before.

Following the natural grooves in the stone wall, Grace ran a finger along the crevices as she slowly made her way to the gym. Unlike the linen closet, the gym door was closed. Images of how Quentin looked the last time she found him in there flashed inconveniently before her eyes. Grace forced herself to think of the kiss with Darius. That worked for … oh … less than a minute. She so didn’t want to go in there.

With a groan she banged the door open much harder than necessary, slamming it shut behind her. This time she made sure Quentin knew she wasn’t trying to sneak up on him. Off to the left of the boxing ring, Quentin stood on top of one of a series of mats strung across the gym floor, wrapping his hands in tape. Was he expecting her to box or something? Standing beside him, she watched as he finished taping his hands. “What do you need that for?”

He focused on the wrapping, smoothing the tape’s edges. “Training.”

“I thought you said I’d be learning kra something? You didn’t say anything about boxing.”

Finally he looked up, but when he did, his eyes still held the same indifference from earlier. “It’s krav maga, and we’re not boxing.”

Grace continued to eye the tape. “Then why the tape?”

“Training.”

“Yeah, you said that already.” Annoyed, she glanced around the room. Even though he said they weren’t boxing, the ring looming over her made her twitch.

Hearing Quentin sigh brought Grace’s attention back around to him—to him watching her. “It’s for pull-ups and hitting the bags.”

Shifting her eyes from him to the punching bags made her palms sweat. “Oh.”

And there it was, a smile to clue her in that the old Quentin was still somewhere in there. “It’ll be okay.”

Grace returned his smile with an uneasy, half-cocked grin. “If you say so.”

“I say so. I’ve already warmed up, so pick either the treadmill or the elliptical for ten minutes or so.”

Grace jumped on the elliptical, set the speed and resistance, and watched the muted news on the flat screen above her. After ten minutes, she was already sweaty. She grabbed a drink from the water container and took a few minutes to catch her breath. Quentin was still standing in the center of the mats, and waved her over to join him. Here we go, she thought unenthusiastically.

Grace stood a couple of feet away, and waited with a hand on her hip for instruction. Quentin closed the gap between them, intending to be intimidating, but Grace refused to cow. “The first thing you need to know about krav maga is that it is an aggressive, hand-to-hand combat sport.” She swallowed, but stayed firm where she was. “Its focus is to neutralize any kind of attack. To disable or kill your enemies.”

Her eye ticked at the mention of killing anyone. She hoped it never ever came to that. She thought back on the night of the accident, and remembered how easily it could have been her or one of her friends that died, which restored her resolve. “Okay.” With a nod, she stood firmly rooted to the floor.

An hour later and Grace was overwhelmed with the hand-to-hand stuff. She figured he’d be the one touching, not the other way around. So, when it was her turn to replicate the moves he was teaching her, the rush of his emotions was a little much. She did note, however, he was no longer struggling when it came to her. He seemed perfectly unaffected by the close contact. The only emotions she was sensing from him were irritation and fortitude. He better not be irritated at me, she thought.

Bent at the waist and breathing heavily, Grace was glad they were done for the night. She’d never worked out so hard in her life. Forget boot camp, krav maga was definitely the harder workout. A neat stack of snowy white towels sat on a shelf next to the water cooler. Grace grabbed one and wiped the sweat from her head and neck.

As she stood there waiting for Quentin to tell her she could leave, a voiceless whisper beckoned her to the security room—an ethereal voice scratching at the surface of her mind, but not really saying a word. It was the eeriest feeling. Panicked that someone was down there with them, she searched around for Quentin. When their eyes met, he grabbed the blades he was putting away and was by her side a second later. “What is it?”

How could she explain it without sounding like someone who needed to be in a straitjacket and locked in a rubber room? “Um…I don’t exactly know.”

He took her by the elbow. “Try.”

She walked toward the apartment door with Quentin close on her heels, and spoke over her shoulder. “Something in there is calling me.” She turned to see his reaction. His features had softened.

“That’s Pandora. Unnerving, huh?” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, just a little. It’s like I can hear her. Only, it’s in my head.” Grace’s voice shook a tiny bit.

Quentin grabbed the knob, and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s go check on her, because if you don’t you’ll be too restless to sleep.”

Pandora was right where she’d left her—in the back of the laser-beam-guarded security room. While Grace stared at Pandora, she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. She hoped Quentin could teach her some Jedi roll or something…just in case he was wrong about the laser guards.

For two weeks, Grace spent her time either at school or in the gym below the house. On the weekends, she and Quentin spent twice the normal time training. Deep down, Grace figured Quentin planned it by design, because every time Darius called to see if she was busy, she was too tired to do anything. The couple of times Darius snuck over completely surprised her. He’d say, “Texts just aren’t good enough.” Then he’d leave her standing at the door with a kiss that left her thinking of nothing else but him.

In the end, Quentin was right. The more he pushed her, the faster and better she got. At first when Quentin told her she was Chosen, she didn’t feel different. However, the knowledge that she was rapidly becoming a neutralizing machine capable of thwarting any attack with her bare hands, coursed powerfully through her veins. It was mind-blowing and totally cool.

What didn’t feel awesome was Quentin’s continued emotional distance. She would try to talk, and he’d only nod or grunt. He didn’t act mad per se, but he didn’t exactly seem thrilled to be so close to her either. When they sparred, she sensed the same feelings as day one of training—irritation and fortitude. Two emotions she didn’t know what to do with.

At the end of every training session, it was the same—Pandora’s siren call pulled Grace to the security room while Quentin waited for her. Afterward they’d walk the passageway to the top and he’d tell her she did well and he’d see her the next night. And true to his word, she wouldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. She could feel him all around. Grace wished they could get back to the way they were. Sadly, she realized she was becoming more accepting of the way things were, and gave up trying to talk to him about it.

Sometime during the last two weeks, Amanda had started warming up a little. They weren’t back to being buds, but Amanda did stop acting like Grace didn’t exist. It was a start. Regardless of how tired Grace was, she noticed something was off with her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew there was something wrong. Since she and Amanda weren’t exactly on speaking terms, she didn’t push her about it.

All of the buzz in school today was the gloomy weather outside. There was finally a break in the blazing heat. Meteorologists joked it was a monsoon. If true, it was three months early. The rainy season in Utah didn’t usually start until early July. Perfect, she was parked way out like usual and had no coat or umbrella. “Meet me at the curb,” Zeke said, and ran and got his car, picked her up in front of the school, and drove her to her car. The rain pelted against the car, noisy and relentless. Grace looked up at the sky apprehensively from the passenger window, dreading getting out. “Uh … are you going to see your girlfriend this weekend?”

Zeke’s mouth twitched. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” Grace asked. “No!”

“It’s all your fault I’m unavailable now.”

Grace smiled. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Zeke crossed his arms over his chest, and sat a little back in his seat. “Because, if you wouldn’t have left me alone for so long at the party, I could be taking you out tonight instead.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that. I’m guessing she wouldn’t like it.”

Zeke chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Grace leaned against the door, ready to beeline it to her car. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. See you Monday.”

“See ya.” Outside the door of her car, Grace thought of another reason having a newer car would be a good thing—keyless entry. As she fought with the key, the rain pelted against her skin and clothing. Throwing her bag in the passenger seat, she plopped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

Grace made sure the radio was on an even numbered station, and wiped the rain from her face. The music couldn’t drown out the loud rain hammering like a drum line against her car as she drove home. Usually, she parked in the turnaround in front, but today she decided to park in the garage. Quentin, surprisingly, pulled in next to her.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she said back.

“How was school?” he asked, holding the door to the house open.

It had been awhile since he’d made small talk with her, so she trod lightly. “It was school. How was guarding?”

“It was guarding. Let me take that.” Before she walked past him, he took her backpack and swept his hand out in invitation. “Go ahead.”

His eyes were as flat as his expression. She opened her mouth to try to talk to him, but thought better of it. “Thanks.” Quentin following behind her made her nervous. Grace went left for the kitchen, and Quentin headed in the opposite direction. Disappointment wrapped its sticky fingers around her heart, threatening to squeeze. The sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when he dropped her bag on the foyer table and took the stairs two at a time. Tears pricked at her eyes. She missed her friend. And it didn’t look like they were going to make amends any time soon.

Quentin gave her the weekend off from training. The plan was to spend the entire time with Darius. Tonight would be the first time seeing him for longer than a kiss in two weeks. Giddiness picked her mood up off the sad floor and whirled her about the house.

A little while later, her phone rang. Darius smiled at her from the screen and the familiar fluttering flipped around in her stomach. “Hello.”

“Hi, angel face.” His voice kissed her ear, and she shivered. “Do you care if Ari and Lux come with us tonight?”

The question caused the wings of the fluttering butterflies to rip off. They sank, with her mood, to the pit of her stomach. “Oh, of course not,” she lied.

“Great. See ya in a while, babe.” Grace’s plan of spending all weekend alone with Darius waved bye-bye as it floated before her eyes. She stomped to her room and focused on her makeup, hair, and outfit choice until seven o’clock.

When Grace heard the doorbell, she ran down the stairs to get the door. Quentin came out of his room. “What about flash floods?”

She stopped running and peered up from the middle of the staircase, puzzled. “What about them?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, the skin over his knuckles tightening as he gripped the banister. “You know, the flash floods that usually come as a result of heavy rain?”

Grace whipped back around, clomping the rest of the way down the stairs. With one foot on the stair and a hand on the banister, she glared back up to Quentin. “If you’re so worried about the water, Quentin, stay home.”

The steel color of his gaze suddenly reminded her of silver bullets, until he finally turned around to go back to his room. “Whatever.” Within seconds, his bedroom door slammed shut like a rifle shot, making her jerk with surprise.

Grace smoothed her hands down her hair, and took a deep breath. She turned her face to the ceiling, blinking the tears back, then padded across the floor. “Hi,” she said, opening the door to a grinning Darius. Grace forced her mouth to form a smile.

“Hi, yourself.” He leaned in the doorway and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. The tenderness of it had her heart fluttering and shaking loose the sticky fingers that had gripped it earlier. “Ready?”

She took another deep breath. “Yeah.”

Concern etched his face as he regarded her, but he said no more as he pulled an umbrella from behind his back and covered her as they walked to Ari’s truck.

Ari turned as far around as he could as soon as she slid into the backseat. “Hey.”

Grace smiled. “Hi.” Lux didn’t acknowledge her. Not that Grace thought she would.

Darius slid in next to her. Without skipping a beat, he laced his fingers with hers and brought their joined hands to his mouth. The brush of his lips across her knuckles was like the air her lungs desperately gasped for. It loosened the sad shackles concerning Quentin. Grace melted into the side of Darius’ body, hungry for more reprieve from emotion.

Darius wrapped a protective arm around her, pulling her tighter into his warmth. Grace took in a cleansing breath, and laid her head on his shoulder.

All the way to Robintino’s, Ari and Darius talked about…well, Grace wasn’t actually sure. Darius never stopped talking. Instead, his smile crinkled the edges of his eyes as he’d wink and kiss her hair, then squeeze her tighter while trailing a finger along the outside of her thigh. The trail burned, leaving goose bumps in its path. It’s a good thing others are in the car, Grace thought.

One thing Grace and Darius had in common was their love for mushroom and sausage pizza. And no one did it like Robintino’s. As she finished her third piece of pizza, Grace listened as Darius and his friends went back and forth.

“So,” Lux said. “It looks like this one’s going to be around a little longer than the rest.” Lux couldn’t even be decent enough to give Grace a vicious glare when she was putting her down. Instead, Grace was a “this” and got a sideways nod of the head in the general vicinity of where she sat. If Grace didn’t have any reason for not liking her before, Lux was easily helping her tally reasons every time she saw her. “Hey, Lux?” Grace said from across the table. “This one’s got a name. It’s Grace.”

From the corner of Grace’s eye, she saw the edge of Darius’ lip turn up before he said, “I was just going to say that. Lux, stop being you.”

Lux took a drink of her soda and talked from around her straw, completely unfazed. “Whatever.”

A news flash came over the flat screens scattered along the walls of Robintino’s, silencing the chatter of the employees and patrons. Like everyone else, Grace’s attention was trained on the TV. A woman in a yellow slicker was shouting into a mic, trying to overcome the noise from the torrential rains, howling wind, and crashing debris. “…As you can see behind me, the city’s drainage system is already compromised and overflowing…” She nodded her head to the right, but the camera stayed on her. “…Main Street is already flooding. Flash flooding across Woods Cross is a big possibility as the city works hard to clear the drainage system.” Dumbstruck, Grace stared at the screen. Quentin was right. Darius and Ari shot out of their seats, rushing Grace and Lux to the truck.

Grace thought she got a peek of Quentin’s car, but by the time she was in the truck and took a better look, it was gone. To her relief, Lux stared out the window all the way to Grace’s house as Ari focused on the road. Every so often from the corner of her eye, she could see Darius watching her.

Darius promised he’d call her later, kissing her quickly before leaving her at the door. Grace leaned against the door after shutting it, and counted in her head, waiting to see how long until Quentin came inside. Almost a minute and a half later, Quentin walked through the utility room door. “Quentin?”

Quentin hit the stairs. “Night, Grace.” The ice in his voice cut into her, running cold through her system. Her shoulders slumped forward, and she walked somberly to the kitchen.

Junk food was a cure-all, and Grace knew there was a new container of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. She pulled a bowl from the cabinet and the ice cream scoop from the drawer, and placed both on the counter. A knock sounded at the door and Grace sighed, snagged the ice cream from the counter, and tossed it back into the freezer. “Got it!” she hollered to anyone who cared as she ran through the foyer. She hoped it was Darius … by himself.

Her smile beamed from ear to ear as she opened the door. Only, it wasn’t Darius, it was Amanda. Amanda shivered as every part of her dripped with rainwater. The eyes staring back at Grace were dark and hollow, while mascara streamed black trails down Amanda’s face.

“Amanda?” Her friend stood there, not moving, not speaking, just trembling. “Amanda, what’s wrong?”

Amanda let loose with a keening wail that dropped her to her knees outside the door. It was the most heartbreaking sound Grace had ever heard. Grace stepped outside and knelt next to her, wrapping her arms around her friend, holding on tight as Amanda cried uncontrollably into her shoulder.

Everything Amanda felt seeped through Grace’s fingers and shot straight through her heart, splitting it in two. Amanda’s muffled cries were of utter desperation. The tears of Amanda’s broken heart spilled helplessly from Grace’s eyes. No matter how much of her pain Grace absorbed, sharing it wouldn’t lessen Amanda’s. Instinct told Grace to step back in order to alleviate the emotions about to short-circuit her own system. But she held on even tighter to Amanda, refusing to give in to the urge. One arm wrapped around Amanda’s body, the other gently caressed the back of her head, Grace gently rocked back and forth, holding her friend up. “Shh … shh … I’m here, Amanda. I’m here.”

Grace didn’t move when she heard the front door open, nor when she felt a hand press lightly against her shoulder. “Come on, Grace, let me get her.” Quentin coaxed Grace out of the way and picked Amanda up off the ground, cradling her against his body. Grace was moved by his tenderness, and equally caught off guard by his wet lashes. Quietly, she followed them up the stairs. Quentin glanced at Grace for guidance, so she nodded toward her own room, walking ahead of him so she could pull the blankets back on her bed. Quentin laid Amanda down, then removed Amanda’s socks and shoes before pulling the covers back up and over her.

Grace furrowed her brow and gnawed on her lower lip, frantically searching for reasons her friend had crumbled before her eyes. The soft click of her door drawing closed brought her out of her head, and turning toward Quentin. But he was gone. Grace walked to the side of the bed and placed a hand on Amanda’s arm. “Amanda, I’m going to go out for a minute, but I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Amanda’s voice quivered and tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, leaving inky splotches where they fell on the white pillowcase.

Graced rushed out of her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Quentin was about to close his own as she softly called out his name. “Quentin?”

He stepped back into the hallway. “Quentin, I—” Before she could finish her sentence, Quentin had pulled Grace to him and pressed her body against his, holding her tight. She relaxed into him and accepted his solace as unwelcome tears fell onto his shirt. Quentin cupped the back of her head and pulled away. For a few moments they said nothing, only stared at each other. Grace tried to read what was in his eyes, but couldn’t. “Thank you,” she said softly.

When Quentin smiled, it didn’t touch his eyes. The pain behind his stare had her reaching to caress his face, but he grabbed her hand and held it over his heart. Quietly, they continued to gaze at each other, but when Quentin’s smile faded and sadness took over his face, tears pooled again in Grace’s eyes. She didn’t know what this silent exchange was about, but it felt like he was saying good-bye. An overwhelming sadness enveloped her, as her quickening breaths cut like teeth on a saw up and down her throat. Oh God, she mentally cried. He can’t leave. What would she do? She couldn’t do any of this without him. Her hands tugged on his shirt, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry, Quentin,” she whispered, hoping her apology would be enough to keep him there. The thought of losing Quentin frightened her.

Laying his hand against hers, he pressed it flat against his heart. He smiled again, still not uttering a word. He leaned down and kissed the edge of her hairline just above her forehead, pressing her hand even harder against his chest. Suddenly, he let go and walked away, leaving her cold. Grace stood frozen in the empty hallway, unable to move until Quentin’s door shut behind him.