Seeking Me To Find You (Finding You Series Book 1) (20 page)

The sign that
greets us state that tonight is open mic night. These are always entertaining. You have one or two that are just lousy whereas most that come out are really talented. We take a seat back from the stage due to the outside patio being crowded. While ordering our first round of shots, random girls walk by in their barely nothing outfit seeking our attention. I’m not in the mood. I’m wiped, my voice is wiped from the constant shouting of orders, and I’m starting to feel a little guilty about the little tiff I had with Grace. Maybe downing a couple of smooth shots will be the cure. The halfway mark of the cycle is when exhaustion starts to creep in. I didn’t mean to take it out on her. I’m kicking my tail as I replay tonight’s event. Ben is sitting silently beside me, taking long draws on his beer. I don’t think he has ever seen me that mad.

About an hour later, I’m ready to call it a night. I’m finally settled and really need to talk to Grace. As I call the waitress to settle our tab, I notice Grace nursing what appears to a watered down drink at the bar. I see her wipe away a stray tear. When I start to get up, a busty brunette blocks my path.

“Hey hot stuff. My name is Andy. You wanna buy me a drink?”

“I’m sorry. I was just getting ready to leave.”

Throwing her arms around my neck and shoving her fake boobs in my face she says, “Come on baby. Just one drink. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Trying to unleash her grasp, she pulls me in for a sloppy kiss while grabbing my crotch. Just as soon as I pull back, I see Grace glaring at me. Grace throws money on the bar and runs out. I struggle to get this bitch off of me to go after her. Finally Ben helps me pry her arm off my neck but it’s too late. As I run to the parking lot, I see that she has already left.

Ben follows me after settling our tab. Not trusting me to drive home, he takes my keys and I let him, tail tucked between my legs like a lost puppy. I try to call Grace but her phone goes straight to voicemail, indicating she has turned it off.

“What the hell happened between you two?”

“I fucked up man. I really fucked up,” I say exasperatedly.

All the way home, I am running over tonight’s events in my mind. I have royally screwed up and I need to make it right. Before Ben can park the truck, I jump out and run down to her house. Pushing the door bell, I get no answer. I try knocking and nothing.

“Grace, I know you’re in there. Open the door; I need to talk to you.”

Still nothing. I go around back and of course, her back gate is unlocked. I travel through the gate and notice that her blinds are closed. I knock on the glass panes and nothing. Seeing a shadow pass by, I knock harder.

“Grace, open this damn door or I will fuckin’ knock it down.”

“Go away,” she screams back. “I just can’t do this anymore,” she says in a mocking tone.

“Grace, I didn’t mean it.”

Reaching for the knob, my suspicion of it being unlocked proves true. I walk in as Grace is about to head of up the stairs.

Stalking towards me she starts to yell, “What gives you the right to just walk in my house? Get. Out!”

“You’re going to listen to me.”

“Um, no.”

“Grace, I’m sorry about tonight.”

“If that’s sorry, then I don’t know what to think about you,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Grace, what you saw back there is not what you think,” I say pleading for her to just listen to me.

“Do you remember when you said that you would never let me down?” Grace turns around and starts walking up the stairs. She looks back down towards me, “You know, I just don’t have time for this.”

Throwing my words back at me was like an arrow shot through my heart. Following her I continue, “I didn’t mean it and that girl came on to me.”

Grace makes a run for it and shuts her bedroom door in my face, locking it.

“Come on Grace,” I plead even harder.

“You can lock up when you decide to leave.”

Knowing that I’m not going to get too far tonight, I do as she says. As I turn the lock, I slam the door behind me. “I’ve fucked up royally!”

Walking back into the house, I see a bottle of Jack. He’s the only one that will help me sleep tonight.

*

Three thirty a.m.
comes too soon. Usually I take Thor for a run but I don’t think my head will allow me. It feels as if Forrest Gump is playing ping pong on my brain while dancing to “Sweet Home Alabama”. My tongue feels as if it has been skinned and dipped in a vat of salty vinegar. Fuck me! Argh, I just remembered that today we continue with pugil sticks. Fuck me twice!

The day goes by as expected – it sucked ass. On our last hump of the day, I notice two recruits playing with a lizard. One of the recruits flings it up in the air, killing it on impact. Pisses me off!

“What in hell did you freakin’ maggots do?”

Walking over, I find that indeed the lizard is dead. I am beyond pissed. “Pick up the freakin’ lizard and get your sorry carcasses back to the barracks now.”

The platoon double times it back to the barracks. Leaving the rest of the platoon with Ben to go to chow, I take the two meat heads to gather their e-tools. Taking them back behind the barracks, I give them explicit instructions.

“Tonight you’ll give this lizard a proper burial. You’ll dig a six by six hole with your e-tool. While you’re digging its grave, you will come up with a proper burial ceremony which you will perform for your fellow recruits. Do you understand?”

Looking at basically a camp shovel, both scream, “Yes sir!”

Three and a half hours and one MRE each, they finish.

Patting down the freshly laid dirt, I hear one of the recruits say, “He must not’ve gotten enough pussy last night.”

Running up so that I am nose to nose with him, I go off. The recruits that were standing at attention, waiting for the ceremony to start, look back and forth to each other. Not knowing what to do or how to react, they continue to stand stock-still at attention. Losing my cool, I bellow, “In what position did you bury him?”

Looking between each other, they don’t know how to respond.

“Did you place the lizard face up or face down you piss ant?

Still looking as if it was a trick question, I get in the recruit’s face that made the pussy comment. “Did. You. Bury. It. Face. Up. Or. Face. Down?”

Shaking in his boots, he whispers, “I don’t know?”

Screaming louder with spit spewing, I inch a little closer to him. “I can’t hear you?”

“Sir, don’t know sir.”

“Dig him up,” I bellow.

Both of the recruits look at each other in disbelief.

“I said dig him up and make sure he is face up. Do I make myself clear?”

In unison, they shout, “Sir, yes sir!”

Ben walks up to me and whispers in my ear, “Dude, go get some chow. You’re going to have a coronary if you don’t watch it.”

“A Marine leads by example by seeing his duty through,” I growl back.

We were there for three more hours. In the rain. Caked in mud. Fuck me three times over.

Grace

I
decide not
to go to Nate’s this weekend. I’m just too drained. As I look out of the window on this Saturday morning, my mood is reflected in the weather. Rain is pouring, so I decide that I’m going to make this a lazy, pajama wearing, chick flick watching kind of day. Making a quick cup of tea, I settle down on my cozy couch lost in my thoughts.

This whole thing with Jackson makes me question how I view myself. What is wrong with me? I must be an idiot at judging my relationships. I thought everything was fine with Evan, and then look what happened. Now, Jackson. Yeah, it was hard not seeing him often, but we tried to make the time we did have together special. We were halfway through the dreaded thirteen weeks and bam, things just blew up.

Jumping in and trusting men so quickly makes me think I’m still trying to fill the void of another man.
Damn it!
When I think I have it all figured out, shit like this happens. I think I’m going to become a nun! They need good nuns that teach. I have little vices like cussing and really enjoying sex, but with divine intervention, I think I can tackle them.
Who am I kidding?

*

The rest of
the day is filled with junk food, “P.S. I Love You”, and a brief snooze. It feels so good to just be lazy. I decide to spend the evening going over my lesson plans when I realize I left my planner in my car. Looking out the window, there is a brief lull to the rain. Still in my jammies and barefooted, I tip toe run out to my car. As I bend down rummaging through my bag, a furry head comes barreling between my legs. I look down and realize that I’m actually sitting on Thor’s back looking as if I’m about to ride him into the sunset.

Out of nowhere, I hear a male voice shouting for Thor. I straighten myself off the moose that just attacked when I bump into Adam.

“Sorry about that Grace. There’s no controlling him when he sets his mind on something. He saw you and just bolted,” he shrugs apologetically.

Bending down I begin to scratch the belly of the languid mutt that has already stopped, dropped and rolled to his back.

“That’s okay. I love this block-headed mutt.”

Adam reaches for Thor’s collar. “Let’s go you flirty beast. It’s about to pour again and there’s nothing worse than the smell of wet dog. I’m sorry about everything, Grace.” Hooking the lead to Thor’s collar, Adam wrestles Thor back towards their house.

The sprinkle of an impending downpour has already begun. I quickly grab my binder and headed back inside.

*

For the rest
of the evening I’m engrossed in making my plans complete. I have a meeting with the principal next week to discuss how my classes are going; I have to present my second semester lesson plans and discuss what I feel are my strengths and weaknesses.

Across the room I hear the chime of my text alert. Too caught up in what I’m doing, I let it be. About ten minutes later, another chime alerts. I stiffly get up from the couch and retrieve my phone. There are two texts from Jackson. One with a simple
We need to talk
and the other
I know you’re home. Adam said Thor tackled you
.

You know what? This really ticks me off. Didn’t he say enough the other day? I decide that my rainy day party needs to continue upstairs in a huge bath filled with bubbles. Grabbing a glass of wine and my phone, I check and make sure all my doors are locked one last time. I make my way upstairs turning off lights, letting my nightlights, yes I have nightlights, guide me to my room. I set my phone on its docking station and turn on some music, allowing it to softly bellow through its speakers.

Running hot water with lemony bubbles, I disrobe and light a few candles. My text pings again. Not giving a hoot, I cautiously lower myself inch by inch into the steamy mass of bubbles.
This is the life
. And there goes another ping.
I just don’t care.

Drifting farther and farther from reality, all thoughts escape my head. I concentrate on relieving my muscles from the tension that has built over the course of these past days. I don’t know how much time has passed when I am aroused by a ding that sounds like my doorbell. Not knowing if I really heard it, I drift back off. Next thing I know, a sharp knock comes from downstairs. Then another one.
What the hell?
I jump up and grab my robe. Shoving it on, I make my way downstairs. The knocks turn into bangs. Out comes the mace. I peer into the peephole and see Ben and Adam standing on my front stoop.