I swallowed down the bile that was threatening to explode from my insides. My head throbbed and I clutched at my stomach, wishing that this were all a bad dream. I feverishly rubbed at my temples trying to clear my brain from the cobwebs it had collected over the last month. They had holes in their story and needed my statement, needed me to fill them in on what had happened. They had been under the impression that Shane had been the one who tried to kill me. Shane. The Shane that begged me to kiss him. The Shane that wanted to know why I had a pair of broken angel wings tattooed on my shoulder and what he could do to become the man good enough that I could love. My heart beat faster.
Both detectives watched m e ; both weighing my silence against my body language. My friends waited, breaths held, to hear the truth in my words. What would I say about Blake? Do I tell everyone the truth? That Blake was the one that held the knife that introduced my warm blood to the cold snow. But it wasn't Blake. It was Psycho Angel. Shane and Blake were both innocent. At least in the case of who tried to kill me.
I tried to stand up as straight as I possibly could. "Detectives, Shane Maxton did not attack me. Blake and I stumbled into an intruder when we returned to the Belvi's winter residence. Blake had just gone back to the house with me to ah, get my guitar. We were all at the resort bar singing karaoke and everyone wanted me to play." I was not about to tell them I mistook Blake for my long lost angel and was taking him back to the house to continue the kiss he gave me so long along.
Think. Think. Think. Shane's heartbroken expression when I walked away with Blake to the bedroom. The loud crash and shatter of glass breaking. "The intruder wore a black ski mask and was dressed all in black. He was holding one of the Belvi's antique glass vases when we came inside. We must have startled him, because he dropped it when he saw us."
I watched Detective Sorens give a slight glance to her partner, acknowledging the fact that I had just explained part of the crime scene. Think. Grace think. What happened next? O h, my God, was Shane in jail this whole time?
The bedroom. Blake, who really wasn't Blake, I hit him in the head with a snow globe. "We ran into one of the back rooms and the guy with the ski mask ran after us. He smashed Blake over the head a few times with a snow globe and I tried to run away, but he caught me. He pulled his ski mask off to try to kiss me. He had blue eyes and blond hair. He had no facial hair." I gave a detailed description of Gabriel, six foot four inches, bronze skin, muscular, between 180-200 pounds, wasn't it really the truth? Wasn't it Gabriel who tried to kill me while I was in a coma? I just didn't tell them he had wings.
"No way in hell was it Shane, and Blake was passed out cold. When I finally got away, I ran into the snow and he came after me. He hit me, I think with the same snow globe he used on Blake. That's when he cut me. I think Shane was the one who found me. I think he was the one who saved me." I looked over to Lea who stood with her hands covering her mouth. "I remember thinking he was my angel that came to save me. And he was."
The interview went on and on. They asked me a million questions, many of the same questions but asked differently. I didn't crack. I didn't falter. I knew how to keep secrets. I had so many of my own.
When the detectives were satisfied with my statement, they immediately called the District Attorney's office. I was then driven downtown to the Manhattan D.A.'s office on Centre Street to repeat the same answers to the exact same questions in front of the District Attorney. Great times, seriously. I suffered through four metal detectors, had a wand run over me (and that's always fun since I have a ton of metal pins in my body from the car accident when my parents died) and a slew of personal questions that left me feeling more violated than I'd ever felt in all of my existence. But it was worth it to get an innocent guy out of jail. The District Attorney ended up withdrawing charges against Shane and sent an order for his release from Riker's Island.
And, that's w he re Shane had been for the five weeks since his arrest, Riker's Island. Now, that must be a fun place to be for someone as pretty as Shane Maxton. Crap, is he really going to hate me now.
Chapter 8
After spending the entire day with them, the detectives dropped me off at the curb in front of my apartment. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. I stomped straight up the front steps and kicked the door open with a loud thud. I could hear voices coming from the kitchen. I stormed in and slammed the front door as hard as I could. I didn't give a damn if it ended up falling off its hinges.
When I walked into the kitchen, I was met by three of the guiltiest faces I had ever seen. Lea, Conner, and Ethan sat around the table; their voices cut short. Slapping my palms down on the cold tabletop, I stared into each face one at a time.
Lea, as always, was the first one to speak. She folded her arms across her chest defiantly. "It's about time you woke up from wherever the hell you've been. I've tried to talk to you for days."
My tense outstretched arms softened a bit and I collapsed onto a chair. She was right and I had no right to be angry with any of them. I'd been keeping myself shut in my own darkness, mourning the loss of something I never had the right to have.
It was time to surrender to this life. He was gone, the one I loved for so long and so intensely. He left me here. I needed to get over it. Get over him.
"I feel horrible that Shane has been in jail this whole time. And Blake? I just can't..."
Ethan grimaced, but then the beginning of a smile crooked his lips. "Please, Grace, it's not the first time Shane's been locked up. He has one hell of a past, it's only in the last few months or so that he's changed his ways. And Blake. Blake always used drugs and that's why we never hung around him. I'm not saying he deserved to die or anything, but when you mess with that heavy stuff, it's bound to happen."
"I just..."
"Need to take a shower? Brush the knots out of that hair? Slap some make-up on that face? Get the fuck outta the house? Talk to us? To me?" Lea snapped.
"But..."
Ethan cleared his throat, "That's some really awesome advice from Lea right there." He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, "Come on. Go clean yourself up; we're taking you to Boozer's for a drink, some music, and laughs."
"What about Shane?"
Ethan pulled me through the hallway and gently pushed me into the bathroom. He raised his enormous arms over his head and leaned them on the top of the doorframe. "Tucker and his father are getting Shane. Don't worry about him. Just put yourself together, Grace, you've completely unraveled and we need you back together again." He closed the door quietly and slipped back down the hallway.
A few moments or hours later, I had no idea which, I found myself hugging my knees under the icy cold stream of my shower. My clothes were still on. I tugged and yanked the cold wet material from my body, and for the first time in days, washed myself.
When I was finished with trying to scrub my sorrow away, I stood in front of the misty mirror and wiped it clean until Grace's reflection stared back at me. My reflection. I held my stare for a long time.
I was strong enough to get through this. I was strong enough to move on. Millions of people have lost someone they've loved. Millions have had someone walk out on them. This was no different. I've lost everything and everyone worth anything to me so many times over, I could probably write one hell of a book about it. It might not be good, but I could write one.
Life goes on. So will I.
I dried and brushed my hair. The amount of strands left on my brush from the war with knots I waged was staggering.
Walking back through the hallway, I could hear the murmurs of my friends in the living room. Emotional wreck. Lost. Depressed. Withdrawn. And of course, Lea's, 'she just needs to get laid.' In time, I knew I would tell her the truth about Shane once being my angel. I wondered how he pulled it off, not allowing Shane's body to die with his soul. Was the old Shane Maxton back or some other new, poor soul? Whoever it was, I had deep sympathy for, Shane was a hard act to follow.
I dressed in a simple pair of je
ans that were so old they had tears ripped in both knees, the bottom cuffs and to my surprise, where the curves of my ass were. I didn't care, they were comfortable and they really didn't show too much. I showed more flesh doing one of Mad World's gigs. I dug through my drawers in search of my favorite tee shirt. I smiled when I finally found it, a tight black tee shirt with the words, All I Need are Shoes, Booze and Bad boys with Tattoos.
"At least slap some heels and lipstick on," Lea said from the doorway. "Come on, Gray, it's time for you to be human." I just wished I knew how.
I slipped my feet into a pair of black stilettos and smudged a bit of creamy red wine colored gloss on. I dragged my leather jacket over my shoulders, dragged my butt into the living room, and followed my friends to Boozer's Bar.
Boozer's was literally right around the corner from our apartment, which made it very convenient when wearing freaking pinpoints for heels. A bright, pulsing, neon light screamed its name and usually music and laughter spilled out its front doors, though tonight it seemed quiet. Antique lanterns hung on each side of the doors and reflections of their dancing lights flickered against the large glass window. It felt good to be back.
The bar was practically empty, save for a rowdy bunch of frat-looking college boys surrounding a table full of empty beer bottles. It looked like they were building something with them. They drunkenly whistled at Lea and I as we passed, and Ethan protectively put his arm around my shoulder and flipped them off.
We walked straight to the bar and when Ryan the bartender saw me, he hopped over the bar like a gymnast and grabbed me in his arms. "Damn girl, it's good to see you out of that hospital bed." He held me at arm's length and looked me up and down as if he didn't believe it was really me. "How you holding up? Grace, I swear, if I ever lay eyes on that son of a bitch Shane again, I'll kill him." His pale green eyes were serious, frightening.
I grabbed Ryan's arms. "No, no, Ryan. Shane did not do that to me. We were attacked, Blake and I. Shane was the one who saved me. I gave my statement today. He'll be released soon. He's innocent." My God, everyone thinks that Shane tried to kill me. How much is this man going to hate me if he sees me again? "Ry, I need to get drunk. Think you could help me with that?"
His face softened and I knew he was relieved to hear about Shane. "Came to the right place. What's your poison tonight, Sweetheart?"
"A bottle of Jack."
He cocked his head seductively and with a huge grin emerging across his lips, he vaulted back over the bar.
"And Ry? Not in a glass. The whole bottle. Whole. Bottle."
His eyes stared into mine and he winked at me as he walked backwards toward the wall of liquor bottles. "Yeah. Sure, Grace. Whatever you need tonight, anything you want, it's on me." Wow, awesome customer service, does that come with a massage?
I jerked my gaze off him only to find Conner, Lea, and Ethan gapping at me with open mouths. I rolled my eyes. "Only God can judge me, I don't need a three person jury right now," I snapped.
Ryan placed four shot glasses in front of them and the bottle in front of me. He leveled his line of sight with mine and gave me a little smirk. Holy hot bartenders, he was flirting with me! I felt my face heat up.
"Want a straw with that too?" Lea asked in a shaky voice.
I turned my gaze right to her eyes and gave her a disgusted smile. "Wanna meet me in the bathroom in a minute?"
"Yeah. Why don't we go now?"
Grabbing the bottle, I poured each of us a shot. I nodded to the glasses. "Shots first." I put the hot liquid to my lips and waited for them to follow. I wished I could have erased the looks on their faces, but I couldn't. And I was burning, dying on the inside. I wished they would understand. They hadn't picked up their shots yet, so I growled at them. Yes, I growled.
They each took a hold of their glasses. That was the affect I was looking for.
"Cheers," I whispered and gulped the fire down.
Four more shot s, and Ethan brought his hand to my knee, gently tugging the material of my jeans. His eyes pleaded with me. But all I wanted was to get his hands off my body. I didn't want anyone else's skin to touch mine. I was nowhere near being drunk enough.
Lea yanked me off the barstool. "Let's go! Now!" She pulled me across the empty dance floor and passed the front of the quiet empty stage, it made my stomach drop. I followed her, remembering the first time I tried to follow her to the bathroom in a crowd of dancing people, the same exact path I took now. The first night I saw Shane, heard Shane; smelled Shane; felt Shane. Oh God. I actually missed him!
We barely made it all the way into the bathroom before Lea flipped around and got in my face. "You are scaring the hell out of me, Grace! I've never seen you like this. Not after your accident. Not after your parents died. Not after Jacob died. Tell me what's going on! Is it what happened? Tell me what to do for you! Tell me how to get my best friend back!" Tears streaked down her face and she wrapped her arms around herself. Oh, Lea.
I closed my eyes tight and took a long, deep, breath. I opened them blinking back tears and exhaled slowly. "Shane," I whispered his name because I could barely stand to hear it pass my lips.
Her eyebrows drew themselves together, her eyes red and swollen still spitting out tears. "You're mad at me because you didn't know he got locked up? You haven't talked to me. We had no idea what happened, we thought maybe he got jealous..." She looked down at her hands and twisted her sleeves between her fingers. "Please tell me what happened," she said sobbing.
I leaned my back against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall and slid down, my hands falling limply to my feet. I stared past her. "Shane was an angel, Lea. My angel." Cool tears rolled down my cheeks. I could feel them hang off the curve of my chin and fall to the floor. "This has nothing to do with being stabbed or by who." I looked at her then. My eyes went wide and I stammered and spit, "It was Shane all along. He tried to forget me with every girl he took home. Then he, he...left me." Lea didn't need to know more. She didn't need to know fallen angels were around and prayers don't get answered anymore. She didn't need to know that humans were play things, easily broken and replaceable. She just didn't need to know.
She wiped at her tears, huddled next to me and held me. "Gray, I'm so sorry. Shane, wow, well that explains the deep intensity between the both of you. What are you going to do?"
"Lea, maybe just give me some time, okay? Just let me...hurt, let me grieve. This stinks. It hurts, Lea, it hurts so damn much." I closed my eyes. "I searched for him for over 2000 years Lea. That kind of love and devotion should've been enough to conquer anything. It should've gotten me more than, remember I always loved you, oh, look at those pretty new wings!"
"But, Gray, what about you and Shane now? Maybe you guys can make something out of this...you could..."
"Stop, Lea. I don't get happily-ever-afters. Those are just for fairytales and porn." I tried to give her a smile. "I'll be fine. Please just let me deal with it my own way."
Lea nodded her head. "Yeah, well I still think you do really need to get laid though." And that's why Lea was my best friend, because she puts everything in perspective for me.
I nodded my head at her. "I know, Lea, I'll start living it up with you, but you've got to let me be sad about this and grieve first."
A soft knock on the door interrupted our discussion. Conner's head peeked in, his face twisted with concern, "Hey, you two okay in here?" he asked softy. Ethan's head popped in over Conner's with a matching worried expression.
I yanked on Lea's hand and hauled her up off the floor. "Come on, Lea. Help me get to oblivion, it's the only freaking place I feel comfortable in this skin right now," I whispered.
She swung her arm across the back of my shoulder and kissed my forehead. "Whatever you need me to do to help you get my best friend back to me. Please hurry though, because I miss her and I need to have someone to go shopping with," she whispered into my ear.
More people were sitting in the bar when we finally walked out of the bathroom. The f
rat boys were still there; the leader of the group stared at me hard as I walked past. I met his gaze until he looked away. I could have easily had him take me into oblivion, but the thought was cut short by the memory of Shane's lips on mine. I looked to the front doors of the bar and wished I could just see him walk through them.
I sat down on the bar stool next to Ethan while Lea and Conner talked in whispers between themselves. I looked past Ethan at them. Conner stood with his arms wrapped around her and she laid her head on his chest while they spoke. He looked down at her with such love in his eyes. Watching them and the way he looked at her, it made me think for a split second that maybe the world wasn't such a shitty place. Just for a second though; a split one.
Ethan nudged me with his elbow. "Shot for shot Grace, after each one you tell me what's in that pretty little head of yours." His face was set in a serious smile, his brown eyes waited patiently. He poured us both a shot and slid my glass and his stool closer to me. Our arms touched as we both leaned on the bar.
I picked up my glass and clinked it up against his. "Shot for shot. Tale for t ale . Drink up buddy." We both lifted the glasses to our lips and watched each other over the rim.
I gulped mine down first. "Remember that night you walked me home and I told you I was in love with someone?" I watched him nod. "Let's just say I guess I didn't know him like I thought I did and he destroyed my heart. But he didn't just destroy a small piece of my heart, he desecrated the whole thing. I was the idiot who just handed it to him. Because for so long, I really, really believed...I had faith in him, but I was wrong. Your turn."
He swallowed his drink. "I knocked out my best friend and held him down while the cops cuffed him because I thought he hurt you. I wanted to kill him Grace." He studied my gaze waiting for my reaction.
I poured us another shot. I grabbed my glass, slammed it back fast, and slid my glass on the bar until it clunked into the bottle of liquor. I placed both my wrists on the bar and showed him my scars. "I've come close to death so many times. I'm more afraid of being here than I am being there."