The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2) (10 page)

“What time are you off tonight? Need a ride home?”

A guy who looked just barely legal had been sitting at the bar for nearly my whole shift, slowly sucking down Jack and Cokes. As was usually in the job requirement of bartenders, I made polite conversation, threw him a couple smiles, and I may have batted my eyelashes at him a few times. It was harmless flirting, and most of the time the guys played along. They didn’t really want to take home the bartender, but they liked getting their egos stroked before they went out onto the wild dance floors, looking for hopefuls.

As the night went on, and the music grew louder, I was forced to lean closer to hear him order, and wasn’t convinced he needed to press his lips to my ear for me to hear him, but I let it slide. Now, he was slurring his words, and sooner or later I knew I would have to tell Randy, our security, to take his keys and call him a cab.

“I don’t need a ride, but even if I did, I don’t think you’re the right person for the job,” I hollered over the loud music. I backed away, using a towel to wipe the bar, and watched as he slowly realized what I’d said, a drunken smile spreading across his face.

“I see. You like to play hard to get,” he said, pointing a finger at me, eyes narrowed, as if he’d just figured me out. I just laughed and turned to another less-drunk customer to take their order. A few minutes later when I made my way down the bar again, drunken guy was gone, and I was secretly glad. I knew bartending came with its fair share of brushing off dudes, but that summer in particular seemed to be chock-f of lonely college guys looking for an easy score.

I watched as Randy passed in front of the bar, doing his security check. Every half hour he took a lap around the building while someone watched the door, just to make sure everything was on the up and up, and so people realized he was there. I’d found that just seeing Randy was the main reason he was so good at his job; no one wanted to mess with him. He was at least six foot four, easily over three hundred pounds, bald, arms full of tattoos, and had a beard that hit his chest. If you weren’t afraid of him just by looking at him, you were stupid. The funny part was, he was a big softy. I’d caught the tail end of a phone conversation in which he was talking to his granddaughter about Barbie, and ever since he told her that the purple shoes went better with the silver dress than the pink, I knew there was a gooey center to him.

He nodded as he passed me by, and I nodded back, which was our code for “Everything here is fine.” Had he passed by when drunk guy was still hitting on me, I would have flagged him down. He made his way through the dance floor and up onto the DJ’s stage without incident. I watched as Randy’s eyes roamed over the crowd, looking for any sign of drunken frat boy shenanigans. When he seemed satisfied that no one was going to cause any problems, he made his way back to the front door, where he acted as bouncer and general scarer of the clientele.

Roxanne, the other girl working the bar that night, slid over to my side and leaned toward me.

“I’m gonna take my break and then cover you while you take yours, all right? I just served up everyone on my side, so they should be good for a few.”

“Got it,” I said, nodding. “Have a good break.” She smiled and then disappeared toward the back where I knew she would sit on a chair, drinking Diet Coke, and text her boyfriend for all fifteen minutes of her break.

I ran my tail off while she was gone, making my way from one end of the bar all the way to the other, making sure everyone got what they needed. The crowd was a little rowdier than usual, but as the summer wore on, it was to be expected.

When Roxanne returned, she was all smiles, so I figured her boyfriend had texted all the right emojis.

“I got this, Grace. Go ahead and take your break,” she said, still smiling.

“Thanks,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder as I passed her and walked right into the break room. I never stayed in the building for my breaks, but instead took the opportunity to rest my eardrums. I grabbed the light jacket I’d brought with me and then headed out the back door.

There was a designated area for employees to smoke out back, but since it was late, there usually wasn’t more than one person on break at a time. I pulled up a crate and took a seat, letting out a large sigh, relishing the relative quiet.

It was disturbed by a drunken voice that came from nowhere.

“Here you are. I couldn’t find you at the bar, so I went lookin’. An’ here you are.”

I looked up to see drunken frat boy wobbling toward me.

Great
. I hated dealing with the drunk college kids, and I definitely didn’t have the patience that night.

“Hey, what are you doing back here?” I stood up and took a step toward him, only to watch him stumble and almost hit the ground. I reached out quickly, catching his arm. “Whoa there, you all right? I think we need to go back up front and get Randy to call you a cab.”

“Only if you’re coming home with me,” he said, clumsily pushing me back against the building. The rough brick of the wall bit into my back where my shirt didn’t quite meet my pants. I tried to push him off, but even drunk he was stronger than me. His hands pinned my arms against the wall, just below my shoulders.

“Let me go,” I said forcefully, hoping that if I couldn’t pry my arms free, perhaps I could use my voice to intimidate him. I tried to pull free again, but all I accomplished was scraping my arms along the brick wall.

“Not so fast,” he said, moving his face closer to mine, the alcohol on his breath making bile rise in my throat. “You’re a tease.” His words were whispered but filled with anger. “You were practically begging me to take you home in there, and then you went all cold on me. How do I know you’re not playing hard to get now?” His face was moving closer with his words; there was now barely any space between us.

Before he could say any more crazy words, I drew in a deep breath and took the one shot I wasn’t even sure I had. I pulled my knee up as hard and fast as I could, and made contact right between his legs.

Drunken frat boy fell to the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch.

“Grace?” I turned to see Devon standing at the edge of the building, eyes bouncing between me and drunk guy on the ground.

“Devon?”

“Are you all right?” he asked, running over to me. “I went in the bar looking for you, but they said you were out back.” He glanced down, watching as drunken frat boy rolled from side to side. “Did you do this?”

My mind was whirling around, ricocheting from the scary feeling of being held against my will to the relief of putting the man to the ground, then to the shock and surprise of seeing Devon.

“What’s going on back here?” My eyes went to Randy, and even more relief flooded through me.

“This guy attacked me,” I said on a sigh, pushing the hair from my forehead, then leaning back against the wall, suddenly feeling very weak.

Drunken frat boy groaned again from the ground, then said, “You bitch.”

“All right, buddy, time to take a ride to the drunk tank.” Randy came over to the guy, rolled him to his stomach, and then pressed his knee into his back, winning another grunt from him. Randy then whipped out his cell and I heard him giving our location to—I assumed—the 911 operator.

“You all right?” Devon asked, coming to stand right in front of me, his hands cupping the sides of my face. He was exactly where drunken frat boy had been just one minute earlier, but his presence didn’t scare me. In fact, it soothed me. I leaned forward until my head rested against his chest and sighed as his hands slid around me, bringing me closer.

“I’m okay,” I said, shivering as I spoke the words. He pulled me even closer still, running his hands up and down my back. “I sure am glad you showed up when you did.”

He let out a deep sigh, then said, “Looks like you laid him out all on your own.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to fight the tears that were welling in my eyes. I was feeling so much, and it was all boiling over.

“Hey, you’re all right. I’m right here.” At his words, I pressed in closer. When I saw red and blue lights flashing around us, I looked up. Then I heard Randy’s voice.

“Hey, lookie here, scumbag. Your ride showed up.” The guy struggled beneath him, but it was useless. The two cops hopped out of their cars and took over wrangling the drunk guy. They got him cuffed and then put him in the back of the vehicle. One cop focused his attention on drunken frat boy, and the other came over to me, notepad open. Randy stood watch over me, which I appreciated, but Devon never left my side, his hand running smoothly up and down my back as I recounted to the officer what had happened.

“I’m not sure what he was planning on doing with me, if anything, but I just reacted on instinct and kneed him. He fell to the ground and then Randy and Devon showed up.”

“He’s lucky you got to him before I could,” Devon said quietly.

“I reckon he is,” the police officer replied, not looking up from his notepad.

“I’m actually kind of sad I didn’t get a go at him,” Randy added, eliciting a laugh from the cop.

“So, here’s the deal. We’ll take him to the station and book him, let him dry out. It’s up to you if you want to press charges. At the very least you should get a restraining order, just to keep him from coming back here and bothering you. But the decision is yours. Since all we have is him physically assaulting you, that’s all the charge would be, even though we’re not sure what he was planning.”

“Do I have to decide now?”

“No, ma’am. You’ve got two years to press charges, but the longer you wait, the less likely the charges are to stick. If you want him charged, I wouldn’t wait more than forty-eight hours.”

“Okay.”

He flipped his notepad closed, but pulled a card out of a pocket in the front cover and handed it to me. “If you have any more information, feel free to call or e-mail me. He’ll be locked up for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Thank you,” I said, gingerly taking the card, then looked down at my body, realizing I had nowhere to put it. Devon slowly reached out and took the card from me, putting it in his wallet.

“You go on home, Grace. If you need tomorrow off, just give us a call,” Randy said softly, the smoothest I’ve ever heard his voice. “Take all the time you need.”

I nodded and tried to speak, but my words were breathy and had no sound. I was balancing on the edge of a breakdown, so I just kept nodding.

“Let’s go, baby,” Devon said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the front of the building where the parking lot was located.

“I need my purse,” I said suddenly, remembering it was still in my locker in the break room.

“I got it, Grace,” Randy said, disappearing into the bar.

I followed along with Devon, stopping when he came to the passenger side of his SUV. He opened the door and I climbed in without words or arguments. Randy brought him my purse and Devon climbed in, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. I leaned my head against the window, watching the street lights pass by, and didn’t realize he’d driven me home until he parked the car.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, turning the car off.

“Yeah,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure. “Thank you for the ride,” I said as I unbuckled my seat belt.

“You’re welcome, but I’m not just dropping you off.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you stay alone in your apartment the night some guy attacks you, do you?”

“You’re… staying?”

“Do you want me to go?”

It took me a moment, but I slowly shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

With that, he opened his door and came around to open mine. “Keys?” he said, holding his hand out. I dug them out of my purse and handed them over. He took them, then reached his other hand out to me and I took it. He led me to my door, opened it, then let me go in first. I took a few steps in and toed off my shoes, a little unsure of what came next. I didn’t want to be alone, necessarily, but Devon was the last person I’d expected to see that night.

“What can I do for you?” he asked gently, coming up right behind me, running his hands down my bare arms. His soft touch smoothed over the same spot that was now tender from the strong grip of drunken frat boy, and I pulled away before I could think not to. “Do you want to take a bath? Watch a movie? Read a book? What do you want?”

I took a few more steps inside, placing my jacket over one of my dining room chairs. I took in a deep breath, then let it out, my mind empty and racing all at the same time. The only thing I could think of was turning off my brain. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Devon held my gaze for a few moments, then stepped toward me, closing the distance. One hand came to the back of my head and pulled me in as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

“I’ll be here if you need me.” He said the words against my hair and I could almost feel them burrowing into my heart, making their place permanent there.

I twisted my fingers in the cloth of his T-shirt, holding him as close to me as possible. “Will you do me a favor?” I asked, too embarrassed by my request to look him in the eye.

“Anything,” he said earnestly.

“Come to bed with me.” I felt his breathing halt at my words, the rhythmic movements of his chest stopping, then starting up again. He pulled back and I let him go, expecting him to make some excuse to leave, but all he did was slip his shoes off, leaving them next to mine. He took my hand and led me back to my bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on the light, just walked to my bed and crawled in. He scooted all the way over to the other side, then held the blankets up in invitation.