Saving Grace

Saving Grace

The Lone Stars Book 2

Katie Graykowski

Copyright © 2014 by Katie Graykowski

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced in any fashion without the express, written consent of the copyright holder.

Saving Grace
is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed herein are fictitious and are not based on any real persons living or dead.

For my mother, Barbara…because you’re the person I want to be when I grow up.

Acknowledgments

Some books are hard to write and some books are easy. This was an easy one…well easier with the help of several people. Thank you to Jane Myers Perrine who is the most gifted author, talented teacher, and loving friend I have the pleasure of knowing. You should get a medal for all of the ledges you’ve talked me down from. For Tracy Wolff who astounds me with her generosity and for Emily McKay who won’t let me give up—you ladies give me the confidence to be a writer. Thanks to Jessica LaMirand Sigur for taking me on as a client. One day, I promise I’ll figure out where the commas go. Many thanks to Charlotte Coggins, MD—best friend and partner in crime. RWA conference won’t be the same without you. And thank you to my husband and daughter. My life is full because you both are in it.

And a huge thank you to Becky, finder of typos, cruise lover, and all-around fantastic reader. The bachelorette auction is all yours!

Grace Kelley was not blonde, graceful or demure…and she most certainly hadn’t married a king. She slipped her hand into the front pocket of her least frayed jeans and withdrew fifteen dollars, a single peppermint, and a McDonald’s receipt for a large Diet Coke—her entire fortune. Sitting on the curb in front of the Austin Convention Center, she opened her guitar case, pulled out her father’s battered, old Gibson Taylor, and eyed the hordes of South By Southwest Festival attendees milling up and down the street.

SXSW, hipster-shortened to “South By,” was one of the largest music and indie film festivals in the world. And her grand musical debut at the world-famous event was confined to four square feet of pavement. Oh, how the mighty had fallen…flat on her face.

Not a year ago, she’d been on the verge of appearing on
American Idol
, but the producers said they were over their quota for brunettes.
X Factor
wanted her until they found out she’d almost made it onto
American Idol
. Then there was
The Voice
. Who would have thought one small wardrobe malfunction would cost her the chance of a lifetime?

Everybody has nipples, right? So why had a brief appearance by her left one been so shocking? But the television censors had gotten involved, and because it was an election year, the L.A. County District Attorney stepped in, next came the right-wing Republicans, and somehow she’d ended up branded as pro-choice by the right-to-lifers, and PETA accused her of dolphin cruelty. It seemed impossible one lone nipple had brought down her entire life, but here she was tuning her guitar and about to sing for her supper…on the street.

She needed to face facts; she wasn’t even a candidate for
Dancing with the Stars
, because she hadn’t quite made it to stardom. Her own insignificance was astounding.

“Let go of me,” hissed a voice from over Grace’s right shoulder. She glanced back at the couple. The voice came from a teenage girl, her arm roughly held by what looked like a close-to-middle aged man.

“I bought you dinner, and now I want to have some fun,” the man whispered. “My car is in the parking garage. Let’s go to my place.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” The young woman’s voice shook with panic. “Take your hands off me.”

“Bitch, you owe me.” The man turned mean.

Grace jumped to her feet and walked to the couple before she’d given it any thought. “What do I owe you?”

She wedged herself between the girl and the man.

“Who the hell are you?” The man’s eyes were small and reptilian and his mouth was covered in a patch of hair that might have been a goatee in a former, more glamorous life.

“You said, ‘Bitch, you owe me.’ Since people call me bitch, I naturally assumed you were talking to me.” Grace returned his mean glare. “If you meant the child behind me, you should have been more specific.”

“Child?” He made to shove Grace out of the way, but she dodged his hand and stood her ground.

“Yep, I’m guessing she’s around fifteen.” She didn’t look back at the girl but kept her eyes on the man. If things turned ugly, she needed to be ready. “Why don’t you leave her alone, and I won’t call the cop that just walked by, and we’ll all go our separate ways.”

“Mind your own damn business.” His hand fisted, and his elbow jerked indicating he was about to throw a punch—amateur. She shook her head. Having worked at a mixed martial arts studio for a couple of months, she’d picked up a thing or two.

Before his fist had time to rear back for momentum, she grabbed his wrist, leaned in, and kneed him right in the balls. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

Grace grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her over to the guitar case. She tossed the guitar in, slammed the case closed, and latched it. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay.” The girl’s voice hitched, and her upper lip wobbled. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” Grace glanced back at the man curled into the fetal position on the pavement. “Don’t worry. He can’t walk, much less come after us.” She turned back to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“CoCo.” She gripped Grace’s hand tightly.

“Let’s get you home, CoCo.” She picked up the guitar case; so much for playing for her dinner. She’d be skipping that little meal … again. What could she do? She couldn’t leave this girl all alone in downtown Austin. “Where do you live?”

“Westlake. Off of Redbud Trail.” The girl’s brow screwed up. “You look familiar.”

Thanks to the nipple seen “‘round the world”; she lived in infamy.

“I’m Grace—”

“Kelley…from The Voice.” CoCo nodded. “I missed the nipple episode.”

“You’d be the only person in the world who did,” Grace said under her breath.

CoCo shrugged. “I don’t know why they made such a big deal. Everyone has nipples.”

“Amen, sister. I don’t get it either.” Grace pointed to her dirty, pink Karmann Ghia, wedged between two giant SUVs parked on a side street. “Get in, and I’ll drive you home.”

“This is your car? Cool.” CoCo walked to the passenger’s side but didn’t open the door. “I’m not supposed to get into cars of people I don’t know.”

“How’d you get downtown?”

“Marty picked me up.” She pointed in the direction of the asshole Grace kneed.

“And you met him how?”

“The internet.” CoCo bit her bottom lip. “That was dumb. I’m willing to admit that now.”

“If you won’t accept a ride home, let’s call your parents. I’m sure they’re worried sick.” Grace opened her door, stowed her guitar in the back seat, and slipped her cell phone out of her back pocket. “What’s your number?”

CoCo opened the door and climbed into the passenger’s seat. “I guess it’s okay since I know you from TV.”

Grace sat in the driver’s seat and closed the door. “You snuck out, didn’t you?”

CoCo smiled by way of an answer.

“So they have no idea you’re gone.” Grace had been an expert at sneaking out of the house. To say she had been a wild child was the understatement of the century.

“My mom ran off with her boyfriend, and my dad works all the time. They don’t care what I do.” CoCo sounded so matter-of-fact, but the nerves making her voice crack told a different story.

Grace had a hard time believing no one cared about this girl. If she’d had a hard life, she wouldn’t have put up a fight when it came to the man. She had a feeling with CoCo, she was more about testing boundaries than raising hell. Grace recognized a hell raiser when she saw one — at one point in her life, all she had to do was look in the mirror..

“What’s your address?”

“Just head toward Hula Hut.” CoCo had evasive down to a science.

If she thought for one minute Grace would let her out of the car without walking her to her house and meeting her parents, she had another thing coming. Grace had a Ph.D in wild teenager — she knew all the tricks; like pretending to go into the house, and hitting the town instead.

“Is it coincidence you snuck out for South By, or are you a music fan?”

“I wanted to see Chasing Gambino and The Dancing Bares, but my dad wouldn’t let me.” CoCo didn’t deny the sneaking out part.

“Both good choices. I like Gambino’s funk-hip-hop sound. The Bares, well … the drummer’s cute.” The band sucked.

“Are you going to tell my dad?” The girl chewed on her upper lip. “You know… about Marty.”

“For someone whose parents don’t care about her, you sure are nervous.” Grace turned onto Sixth Street and headed west. “How old are you?”

“Why?” Teenagers could do suspicion like no one else.

“Just wondering.” The light at Sixth and Congress turned red, so she downshifted and stopped. “Do you realize what that man was after?”

CoCo shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“If I hadn’t stepped in, things could have gotten out of hand quickly. You put yourself in a bad situation.” Grace glanced at her. “I get the impression you’re smarter than that.”

CoCo slumped in her seat. “Great, another adult telling me I did something stupid.”

“Well you did, but I’m not going to preach to you.” The light turned green and Grace shifted. “Taking self-defense classes would be good for you. You know, in case you put yourself in an iffy situation again.” She put her hand over her heart. “Trust me, I’ve done more than my fair share of stupid things, but safety is important.”

She made sure her tone wasn’t condescending so CoCo would understand concern was driving this conversation, not the need to preach.

Slowly, CoCo nodded. “I’ll think about it.” She relaxed back in her seat. “I’m almost fifteen.”

Jesus, she was just a baby. Grace made sure her face stayed blank and didn’t register shock. Come to think of it, why was she shocked? She’d started sneaking out and meeting boys at the age of twelve. Only her aunt and uncle hadn’t known what to do with her. Vernon and Shirley Betters were good people who believed in the power of prayer to fix everything. If the water heater broke, there was no need to buy a new one, because Jesus would fix it. Genesis 22:14 was Uncle Vernon’s favorite Bible verse, “The Lord will provide.” Unfortunately, these days, it wasn’t the Lord, but Grace who provided the money for his assisted living. Next month’s payment was due in less than a week. If she slept in her car and picked the right street corner to play, hopefully she’d earn enough in tips to cover her portion of the four thousand dollar a month rent. Thank God Medicare and Uncle Vernon’s health insurance covered three-quarters of the rent, leaving her only responsible for a thousand dollars. Hell, she already had fifteen bucks, only nine hundred eighty-five more to go. She’d tried several full time jobs, but every time she got something with benefits, Uncle Vernon took a turn for the worse and she’d have to take time off to be with him. Employers always regretted firing her, but they needed a warm body that showed up for work. Eating was overrated, besides, shelter for her uncle was more important.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Grace glanced at CoCo again. “Tell who what?”

“My dad about Creepy Marty.” CoCo’s voice held an eye-roll.

“Yes I am, and not because I want to get you into trouble, but because I want to keep you out of it.” Grace wasn’t out to hurt the girl, but she was going to help her whether she liked it or not.

“Won’t matter. He’s not there anyway.” She sounded about fifty percent sure. “Debra’s watching us — me and my twin eight-year-old brothers, Cartier and Harry-Winston. She’s trying to be Dad’s girlfriend, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her to go away.”

“Cartier and Harry-Winston?” Grace merged onto the off ramp that turned into Redbud Trail.

CoCo shrugged. “My mom likes nice things and named us after her favorite stores. We call them HW and Cart.”

“Thank God.” She would stay until CoCo’s father got home. He needed to know what was going on under his own roof.

“You can let me off at Hula Hut.”

“Nope. I’m taking you all the way.” Grace smiled at her.

“No talking you out of this?” CoCo sounded hopeful.

“Sorry. When I step in to help, I go all the way.” Grace patted her leg.

“I was afraid of that.”

“I know. Having people who care about you sucks.” Grace laughed. “Adults are a pain in the ass.”

“Tell me about it.” CoCo smirked. “Everywhere I go, seems like someone is telling me what to do.”

“It sucks to be you.” CoCo hadn’t used the best judgment, and an adult had to save her. Almost fifteen wasn’t adulthood, but explaining that to an almost-fifteen-year-old was pointless.