The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2)(31)
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.