Pieces of Me (12 page)

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Authors: Ann Garner

BOOK: Pieces of Me
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A
few simple words and all the happiness, all the progress I had made was fading
away.

She
would start to wonder, to ask questions, start to piece things together.

She
would tell Cole.

My
eyes drift shut at the thought.

He
wouldn't look at me the same. None of them would. No one ever looked at me the
same when they learned that I had been raped.

The
word was too soft, too easy for what I had experienced.

My
hands turn white where they hold on to the small pedestal sink. I am delaying
the inevitable, and only fueling the fire in her mind the longer I stay hidden
in the bathroom.

But
I am assaulted by memories, held in place as they dance through my mind,
spinning together until they are all I see, all I feel. And looking in the
mirror I see the me from four years ago.

The
broken, beaten, little girl who'd been forced to grow up in an instant.

Grace
knocks on the bathroom door, and I blink, forcing myself back to the present as
she calls my name. “Delaney?”

I
wipe at the tears that spilled with the back of my hand. “I'll be right out.”

“Ok.”

I
wash my face, wiping away the evidence of my tears, willing the demons away. I
study my reflection a moment longer before forcing myself to leave the
bathroom.

Grace
is sitting in her bed, legs crossed beneath her, eyes intent on me as I slide
into my own bed. I turn off the lamp next to my bed, grateful for the darkness.

“What
happened to you, Delaney?” Her voice is whisper soft and cuts right through me.
I almost tell her. I almost take my chances that she will be different, that I
am different now.

Almost.

“I’m
not sure what you mean.”

“Delaney,”

“It
was a slip of the tongue, Grace,” I snap, harsher than I intend. “I was in a
fog and I said the wrong words and you're making it into something it’s not.”

There
is silence, save the light sound of our breathing, and I bite my lip as I wait
in the dark.

“You
can tell me, Delaney.” Her voice is soft and sure and brings tears to my eyes
again. I am thankful I can hide them in the dark as they slip like secrets down
the side of my head to become hidden in my hair.

“You
can tell him.”

I
have to wait until I know my voice won't shatter.

“There’s
nothing to tell.”

 

Chapter Fifteen

“You've
never played putt-putt before? Ever? Are you lying?” Grace demands,
incredulous.

“Yes,
Grace, I'm sure Delaney has some elaborate plan to hustle you at putt-putt.”
Grant says dryly, coming up and throwing an arm around her shoulders. She hip
checks him, glaring.

“Don't
be an ass, Grant.”

“He
can't help it.” Cole stands next to me, holding out a hot pink golf ball.
“Here's your ball. Did you get the right size club?”

I
frown down at the golf club in my hand. “They come in different sizes?”

Chuckling,
Cole takes the club from me, holding it up against the side of my leg. The top
of it hits at my waist.

“You're
good. Are we actually going to play or are the two of you going to act like
children all night?”

Grant
and Grace are using their clubs to sword fight. The two of them are laughing
like lunatics as Grace calls out, “Grant isn't acting.”

“Oh,
really?” Grant drawls, dropping his club down by his side. “That wasn't very
nice Gracie Lou, you hurt my feelings.”

“Aww,
poor baby. Grant what are you doing? Seriously, Grant don't be a jackass. Put
me down.”

“Now
I'm a jackass? Remind me again why it is I keep you around?” He slaps her ass,
which is an easy target as he has her slung over one shoulder, making his way
to the first hole.

“Put
me down and I'll show you.”

Grant
drops her down in front of him with a smirk. “Show me what you got, baby.”

“How
about she not?” Cole suggest with a shake of his head. “Jesus, are the two of
you always like this?”

“They
are,” I confirm, “It's kind of annoying, isn't it?”

Cole
leans over, his lips brushing against my ear as he says, “We could give them a
run for their money.”

He
laughs at the instant blush that stains my checks as he pulls back, those lips
now brushing against my cheek as he does.

“So,
do we make it interesting?” Grant asks from where he and Grace have seemingly
settled down. “Guys against girls?”

Grace
narrows her eyes. “That doesn't seem fair. Delaney’s never played before. What
are you after?”

Grant
just winks. “Fine. We can play couple against couple. Think you can carry
Delaney?”

“Carry
me where?”

Grace
gives me a pitying look. “Oh, Delaney. He wants to know if Cole thinks he can
still beat us even though you'll suck.”

“Why
do you think I won't be any good?”

“Don't
worry about it, Del.” Cole reaches out to snag one of my hands. “Let me show
you how to hit the ball correctly. Before you decide to hit one of them with
the club.”

I
totally suck at putt-putt. It's apparent by the third hole that if we are to
win, then Cole is going to have to do it without my help. And the losing team
as to spring for dinner.

“If
they didn't put those stupid obstacles in the way this would be much easier.” I
mutter.

“That’s
the point.”

I
glare at Grace. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“You
don't have to be a bitch about it. Sheesh.”

She
lines up to hit the ball at the start of the eighteenth hole. Grant has already
hit and is waiting somewhat impatiently at the end of the hole for the rest of
us to take our first turn. Cole is standing directly behind me, one hand on my
hip as he watches his sister.

He's
taken to touching me, casual touches that send shivers through my body. He
holds my hand, or touches my hip; he loves to play with my hair, tangling his
fingers in the ends.

And
he kisses me every chance he gets. Long and slow in his car when he's dropping
me off, short and sweet when he meets me in the morning to walk me to class.
Each and every one sends a slow burn through my body.

It's
amazing how quickly I have adjusted to being touched, if only by him. Not only
have I adjusted, I have come to crave it. Even the slightest brush of his body
against mine sends shock waves throughout me.

“Hey.”
Cole touches my arm, “Where'd you go? You okay?”

I
blush. “Yes.” Grace has moved down to stand next to Grant and they are arguing
again, over where they want us to take them for dinner once they win. “I think
we should buy them McDonald’s and send them on their way. Quickly.”

 

Cole
smirks, sliding his hand around my waist and pulling me flush against him.
Every cell in my body instantly comes alive at the full body contact. My eyes
flick up to his, seeing the heat reflected in his dark navy eyes as they lock
on mine.

 

“I’ll
have a pizza sent to the dorm,” he mutters, dipping down until he’s close
enough to lay his lips against mine. His tongue flicks out, licking against my
lips and I forget that I’m standing on the eighteenth hole of a putt-putt
course, and that Grace and Grant are waiting for us, I forget everything but
him as I open up to let his tongue slip inside and slide over mine.

 

My
hands move up, sliding over his shoulders and down along the tight muscles of
his back. I love the feel of his body under my hands. Love the way the muscles
tighten and shift under my fingers whenever I touch him. It’s exhilarating,
knowing that I affect him the way I do with just the slightest brush of my skin
against his.

 

“Knock
it off you two, Grant and I are hungry!”

 

I
pull back from Cole slowly, my lips lingering against his for as long as
possible, then turning up into a smile when I see that he is flipping Grace off
behind my back. I lean forward again, pressing my smiling lips against his. I
pull back again with a laugh when I hear Grace making gagging noises behind us.

 

“Let’s
get this over with so we can ditch them.”
************************

 

I
click to open the e-mail from my mother. I'm sure it will be more of the same
that I've received from her for the last few months. She goes through her
latest list of ailments, I'm only contributing to three now. That's an
improvement.

She
mentions my father briefly. I wonder if he's told her that he's started to
email me once a week, much more frequently than I hear from her. She talks
about the various committees that she serves on, mentioning how tired and
stressed she is because of them.

She
never once asks me how I’m doing or how my classes are going. She does mention
how selfish it is of me to not come home.

She
doesn't understand that I cannot go back to that town, and she wouldn't even
attempt to comprehend that being here, surrounded by people whose treatment of
me is not colored by events beyond my control, I finally have the hope I've
always been looking for.

I
chew on my lower lip as I type out a quick response to her. Grace is stretched
out on her stomach on her bed behind me, with her knees bent and feet swaying
back and forth in the air to the music she has pumping out of her iPod.

I
close my e-mail, returning to the paper I am working on for my literature
class. I'm having trouble concentrating on anything, as I keep thinking about
Cole. In the several weeks that we have been dating, I have seen or heard from
him every day.

Except
for today. He'd overslept and missed class. I felt guilty knowing it was
because he had spent most of the night talking to me on the phone, something
that had become a habit for us.

Every
time we talk, every time we touch, I find myself wanting to do more, to say
more. I want to move beyond the kissing, and I know he does too, though he's
never said a word.

And
even though I am more comfortable with him than with anyone else, I know that
doesn't guarantee that I will be able to handle anything else. But the urge to
try, to push myself further is nearly consuming me.

Grace
hasn't mentioned anything else about my slip of the tongue, and if she has said
something to Cole, he isn't talking about it either. I catch her, on rare
occasion, studying me with eyes that suddenly see more than before. I can see
the words whipping around in her head, but she hasn't said them, so I leave it
alone.

“I
think we should take a break.” Her voice interrupts my thoughts.

“You
always think we should take a break.”

I
hear Grace shift on the mattress, rolling over onto her back. “Tell me how much
you've gotten done on that paper in the last thirty minutes.”

“I've
gotten a paragraph done,” I say defensively.

“Oh,
one whole paragraph? You're right, we should hang tight because you're totally
on a roll there.”

I
save the little bit of progress I've made and twirl around in my desk chair.
“What did you have in mind?”

“I
haven't a clue, but anything to get us out of this room for a few hours.”

“It’s
eight o’clock on a Wednesday night, Grace. Our options are going to be pretty
limited at this time of night.”

“You
sound like an old lady. Eight o’clock on a Wednesday night,” she says under her
breath, shaking her head.

“Can
I just remind you that your last great idea resulted in your brother pulling
you out of class a week later to bitch you out?”

“Sure
you can. As long as you keep in mind that it also resulted in you finally
getting your head out of your ass soon after that.”

“Bitch.”

“Takes
one to know one.”

I
stand up from my desk, stretching my arms high above my head, trying to work
the strain out of my back. Twisting from side to side to ease the tension, I
move to my bed, flopping backwards.

“Well,
if you're waiting for me to come up with a brilliant idea, you're screwed. In
case you forgot, the social scene isn't really my thing.”

Grace
rolls her eyes. “You're a regular laugh a minute. There's a small bar not far from
here we could go to. It’s about two steps up from a dive.”

I
arch one brow. “A bar, really? With our track record? You've high hopes, Gracie
Lou.”

“Don't
call me that,” she says automatically with no real heat in her voice. “We could
call Grant and Cole to meet us. I'm sure they'd be down.”

I've
already got my hand curled around my cell phone when she mentions their names.
I had hoped that this conversation would head in that direction. Is it crazy to
miss being with him this much? Crazy to think that I breathe better when I
standing next to him?

“What
do you think?” she asks, then I hear the smirk in her voice when says, “Are you
texting Cole?”

“Nope.
I'm asking Grant if he wants to ditch you and meet me for drinks.” I glance up
at her. “We've been trying to find a way to tell you.”

My
phone chimes and I look down to see that Cole has responded. ‘
A bar? You
sure?

‘As
long as you're there.’
I quickly write back,
‘Otherwise Grace is on her
own. And you know how much trouble your sister can get into on her own.’

‘So
this is really a humanitarian trip to the bar.’

‘Exactly.’

It
takes him a few minutes to respond again. Then finally,
‘Ally and Holden are
in. Meet us at Grady's.’

I
start to slide my phone back into my pocket when it chimes again.
‘Don't try
and go in without me. Make Grace wait.’

‘Ok.’

Grace
is already up and moving, changing out of her yoga pants and t-shirt into a
pair of dark blue jeans and a pretty pale pink sweater. I opt for more casual,
stone washed jeans with a white tank top and a gray hooded jacket. I slip on a
pair of pink and gray Toms and tug my hair back away from my face so it falls
back over my shoulders.

“Grant
is going to meet us outside in about five minutes.” Grace looks over at me from
where she is standing in front of the full length mirror running her fingers
through her hair.

“You've
been wearing your glasses an awful lot lately, are your contacts bothering
you?”

I
feel the heat slip through me just at the thought of Cole’s reactions to my
glasses. To Grace I just smile, “Nah, I'm just too lazy to put my contacts in.”

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