The Stand Page 7

  She didn’t stop. “I can call Riley.”

  “I can come with you now.”

  “You’re going to do what you want whether I like it or not.”

  Something was off. This was more than upset. This was defensive and…almost like this was exactly what she’d been expecting. For him to let her down.

  He blew out a breath. That’s exactly what it was. She’d expected him to let her down, as he believed someone else had done in her life. Probably her parents. And he’d done just that.

  He couldn’t leave her alone now. It felt wrong.

  But he would give her space.

  Nathan got into the seat next to her and started the engine. She kept quiet the entire way to the youth center and he let her have her silence.

  Chapter 9

  She hated being irrational. But she also hated being lied to. She understood why Nathan hadn’t said anything in the beginning, but Grace had a right to be angry he hadn’t told her sooner. Even worse, he drove her to the youth center without saying a word. Letting her fume in silence.

  He barely stopped the truck before she thrust open the door and hopped out, carrying only her water bottle. She ran quickly up the stairs and into the house, not surprised to find the door unlocked. Stuffy air consumed her at once. Grace made her way to the front windows, opening them one by one, ignoring Nathan as he entered the living room.

  “Are you planning on painting in here?”

  She gave him a mild look. “Yes.”

  “I can help with the higher parts if you’d like.”

  Grace pulled off her sweatshirt, grateful she’d decided on a T-shirt underneath. The room was too warm for the layers. She didn’t answer him, only went to the card table to open the paint can. What she wanted right now was for him to stop being so nice. It was easier being angry with him if he gave her the fuel. And that just wasn’t happening.

  It worked better for her not to think about it, then. If she did, she might realize he’d done the same thing she would have in that situation. In fact, she hadn’t told Riley about Lewis…

  No. She wasn’t going to think about that now. She needed to paint.

  She pried the lid up with a hasty jerk. Then she filled the paint tray as full as possible, found her roller, complete with a long extension, and brought both to the door. Grace decided to start on the right side and move her way around the room and into the hallway. The front of the room would be the most difficult, with high ceilings that not only required the extension but called for a ladder as well.

  Grace turned and nearly ran into Nathan, who had silently retrieved the ladder from the other side of the room and brought it over.

  “I can get it,” she muttered, waiting for him to set it down. Once he’d released the rungs, she dragged it into place. “Why don’t you work on painting upstairs if you insist on staying?”

  Grace occupied herself with the paint again and when she glanced back, Nathan was making his way up the stairs doing exactly what she’d asked.

  She sighed to herself. Why didn’t he just go home?

  She coated the roller with pale yellow paint and made her way up four rungs. With her knees leaning against the next step to steady herself, she went to work on the wall. Rolling and rolling, up and down, up and down. It was therapeutic. It gave her something to put her mind to.

  She shouldn’t have gone on the picnic with Nathan in the first place. That was mistake number one. Then actually letting her guard down just a bit, just enough to learn more about him. Another mistake.

  But to react the way she had to his confession…

  Grace sighed and climbed down the ladder for more paint. She rolled it in the tray and climbed back up. Okay, maybe a little dramatic. He had told her the truth eventually. And what he’d said was important. In fact, if seeing Amanda had something to do with her search for the star, she needed to pay more attention to what was going on with Nathan. She needed to know exactly what had happened. And…

  A buzzing sound tickled her ear. Grace swatted at the side of her face, annoyed. Flies kept getting inside because they were forever leaving the doors open for air or to haul things in and out.

  She got a better grip on the roller and ran it along the wall as far as she could reach.

  The buzzing came again. This time something brushed her arm. Grace jerked back when she saw the muted flash of color. Not a fly at all. A bee.

  She sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the roller on the ground. The bee buzzed closer to her face. She leaned back, trying to keep her movement slow. It hovered.

  Grace’s foot slid on the rung, and buzzing sounded all around her. Her lips parted in horror as dozens of bees swirled near the ladder. Swirled by her arms and face.

  Then they started landing on her.

  “No!” she cried out, jerking back.

  Empty air surrounded her. She made a desperate grab for the rungs, but they slipped through her fingers as she plummeted to the hardwood floor.

  ~ ~ ~

  Upstairs, Nathan saw Shawn and his crew had made more progress on the mural. Some painting had been done on the far left as well as sketching in the middle of the wall. Unfortunately, Nathan didn’t feel much like drawing or painting.

  He felt like going straight downstairs and demanding Grace open up to him. He’d rather have her angry than silent. At least that way they’d make progress. He’d done what he’d thought was best, plain and simple. She had to at least acknowledge that.

  Pencil in hand, he moved to the wall. He’d paint a music player in one of the girls’ hands, give her some motion, earphones in and smiling. He could do that.

  Then he heard a gasp. Nathan paused, turning his head in the direction of the door. Nothing sounded again. He lifted his hand but when he heard Grace’s shout, he dropped the pencil and ran.

  He was to the door in seconds, running down the hall and looking to the living room in time to see Grace crumple to the floor. He took the stairs two at a time and slid to his knees next to her.

  “Grace!”

  He did a quick scan of her body, trying to see any obvious injuries before he looked at her face. Her eyelids fluttered open. Her gaze met his.

  He exhaled. “Are you okay?”

  Her hand shook as she lifted it to her head, eyes closing briefly with a sharp intake of breath.

  “Grace?”

  She didn’t move right away, only lolled her head in his direction and winced. “Bees.”

  Nathan slid his arm beneath her. He scooted her up against him as gently as possible. “Did you hit your head?”

  “There were bees, Nathan.” Her wide blue eyes traveled upward, taking in the expanse of ceiling, and then the ladder.

  “I don’t see bees,” he began. Yeah, she definitely hit her head. He started to say something else but stopped when her hand came up to grip his arm.

  “I was on the ladder…” She closed her eyes, and he worried at the pain etched at the corners of her mouth.

  “Grace–”

  “I was on the ladder,” she repeated, reopening her eyes. “I heard buzzing and then there were bees all around me.”

  Understanding hit him. “You’re allergic to bees,” he whispered.

  Grace winced. “I am. I thought…”

  “Don’t worry about it now.” Nathan shifted, tamping down his own worry. “Your head, right?”

  She nodded and brought her hand to the back of her head, then peered down at one of her legs. “This is just great,” she mumbled, turning her attention to the roller beneath the ladder. “I got paint on the floor.”

  Nathan slipped a hand under her chin and turned her head to face him. “Grace, you just fell off a ladder.”

  “I know.”

  “We need to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m irritated, is what I am.” But the crack in her voice gave her away.

  “Can we deal with that later?”

  A flicker of amusement traveled across her features. “Okay, but if we d
on’t wipe this paint up soon it’s going to be a lot harder to get off later.”

  “I’ll get the paint, don’t worry. Now let me see.”

  She held still when he reached to the back of her head. He moved his fingers gently, in search of a gash or a knot. She kept her breathing even, but he could tell when he touched a tender spot. Her lips pressed into a tight line.

  “Okay, a bit of a bump. Can you see okay? Any spots?”

  She gave a small chuckle, reassuring him even more. “No. And I wasn’t imagining those bees.”

  “Trust me, Grace,” he murmured, reaching down for her leg, “I didn’t think you were.”

  “What do bees have to do with the star?”

  “It was trying to scare you,” he bit out, anger seeping in. He shook his head, let air move in and out of his lungs for a few moments, then focused. “Where does it hurt?”

  She paused, then pointed gingerly to her left foot. “I twisted it.”

  “Can you move it?”

  “I’d rather not, thank you.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” he replied with a smile, touching her cheek, once again unable to stop himself from the endearment, “but can you?”

  He saw the pain in her eyes and knew it hurt worse than she let on. She wiggled it slightly and then shook her head, drawing in a sharp breath. “Just give me a minute.”

  Nathan lifted her foot and set it in his lap, jarring it as little as possible. He undid the shoelace.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Taking off your shoe.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can see if there’s swelling. So I can see where it hurts.”

  “How is that going to help if you can see where it hurts? Are you a doctor?”

  He chuckled softly and eased her shoe off.

  “Nathan. This isn’t necessary.”

  “Can you stand up? Can you walk?”

  She frowned, and guilt dug its way into his heart. He should have been down here with her. He shouldn’t have left her, especially after this afternoon. Especially knowing something with the star was going to happen eventually.

  “Please, Grace. We’re going to have to call everyone and tell them what happened. They’re going to want to know if you’re okay. They’re going to want to know everything.” He saw the consideration in her face and tried to appeal to her on a level he knew she’d react to. “I can give Riley a call if you want or we can see if he’ll meet us at the hospital.”

  “No, don’t call him.” Her eyes narrowed. “You play dirty.”

  “I have to, Grace. This is the only way you’ll listen to me. Please. I’m worried about you.”

  She sighed but let him take off her sock. Her ankle was swollen, already bruising by the bone.

  “On the left side.”

  “I can see it.” He nodded. “Can you try moving it again?”

  Grace reached for her sock. “It’ll feel better in a few hours. I’ll just sit down for a while.”

  She struggled with the sock, pulling gently at the sides, trying not to move her foot. Nathan gave her another five seconds without much progress before he said, “That’s enough.”

  “What?”

  He snatched the sock back and looked at her foot again. “At the very least you sprained it. Still, I think we’d better take you to the hospital. It might be smart to have them take a look at your head, too.”

  “What am I supposed to tell them? I thought I saw dozens of bees?”

  “Sure. Tell them you saw bees, tell them you fell off the ladder. Either way, we need to go.”

  He gave her another moment to decide and when she didn’t protest, he stood.

  “All right,” Grace murmured, giving in easier than he thought she would. Before she could even shift her weight, he reached down to lift her beneath her elbow.

  Once she was standing, she tried balancing with her injured foot resting lightly against the floor. “I can’t walk out there without my shoe.”

  Nathan bent to retrieve her shoe. He glanced around, spotted her purse and shoved the shoe inside. “Your shoe isn’t going to go back on your foot,” he told her with an apologetic smile. There was already too much swelling. “Sorry.”

  Grace set her foot flat on the ground. Nathan reached for her arm but she held up a hand. “Hold on. Let me just try, okay?”

  “Grace–”

  “No.” She winced but still held him at bay. “I think…”

  Grace shifted her stance, letting her left foot take more weight. When she hissed in pain, he grabbed her smoothly around the waist.

  “Okay, Grace, it’s time to go.”

  “I know. Okay.” She leaned into him. “This really pisses me off.”

  “Me, too.” Nathan slung her purse over his shoulder before lifting her fully off the ground. Even in her discomfort, Grace gave a surprised laugh. “Nathan, what are you doing?”

  “You can’t walk, Grace. Stop arguing with me.”

  “I’m not arguing–”

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

  “What about the paint?”

  Nathan glanced back, shook his head and sighed. “I’ll get you in the car first and then I’ll wipe this up.”

  She seemed satisfied at this and lifted her arm around his neck. She was lighter than he’d expected and fit well in his arms. For a quick moment, he let himself appreciate what it was like to be needed. That she trusted him and wanted his help.

  Nathan tried not to jostle her much as he walked down the stairs and to his truck. He eased her inside. She shifted her leg awkwardly and settled her foot lightly on the floor.

  “Let’s wait to call Riley until after we get to the hospital,” she said before he could close the door.

  “We’ll talk about it in a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  He shut the car door and jogged back up the stairs and inside. It only took a damp rag to wipe up the small amount of paint that had managed to sneak around the sheets and hit the floor. He capped the paint can and left the roller leaning against the wall. They’d use a new one next time. He paused by the door, gaze traveling to the top of the ladder. Even if she hadn’t been on the top rung, Grace had fallen a long way.

  There was no evidence of any bees now. But he knew that was how it worked with the star. Play on a person’s fears. Any way possible to hurt them. Anger flared through him again. Grace had been the victim this time, and he wasn’t going to sit by and let it happen again.

  Chapter 10

  Grace leaned her head against the seat in the truck as she waited for Nathan to come back out. She squeezed her eyes tight, fighting off the tears that threatened to spring up. She’d been waiting for something concerning the star to happen and when it had, she hadn’t been prepared.

  She pressed her fists against her eyes. Suddenly all the wanted to do was call Riley, call anyone to comfort her, to hug her, to tell it was okay and that they’d figure it all out. Or to let Nathan pull her into his arms and take care of whatever happened from here on out.

  “Grace?”

  She jerked her hands away from her face, drawing in a sharp breath. No. She was okay. She could handle this. It was all part of the process to finding her piece of the star.

  Nathan peered closely at her. “Are you okay? Is it your foot?”

  She choked on a humorless laugh. “No.”

  “Your head?”

  He reached for her, but she shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Are you ready?”

  Doubt clouded his eyes. He stared at her for another long moment, a silent debate clear on his face. Then he touched her arm briefly. “Buckle up.”

  Grace grabbed the seatbelt as he made his way around the truck. When he hopped in, he pulled out his cell phone and nestled the keys in the ignition.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m calling Riley.”

  His eyes challenged her to disagree. She only swallowed and let him make the call. He started the car and ba
cked away from the youth center at the same time. “Riley, it’s Nathan.”

  Nathan waited for his response and Grace saw his hand squeeze tighter on the steering wheel. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling you. I’m with Grace but…well, you should probably meet us at the hospital.”

  Grace could hear a fast murmur of words coming from Riley’s end.

  “She’s fine,” Nathan assured him. “We were at the youth center. She fell off the ladder.” Nathan waited another moment, steering the truck down the gravel road leading away from the youth center. “Hold on. Listen, it was–”

  Grace looked over. What was Riley saying? She saw guilt on Nathan’s face and her stomach clenched.

  “No, she’s sitting next to me.” A pause. “She hit her head and twisted her ankle.” Another pause. “We’ll tell you when you get there.” He waited for Riley’s response then ended the call.

  Grace squirmed in her seat as he slipped the phone into his pocket. He checked for traffic before entering the main road.

  “Doing okay?” he asked.

  “I’m okay.”

  He kept his hands tight on the wheel, foot pressed hard on the gas.

  “What did Riley say?” Grace asked, intent on keeping her focus off the pain.

  “He’ll meet us at the hospital.”

  Grace folded her hands in her lap. She squeezed them together tightly. “And?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  They hit a bump and Grace winced. Nathan glanced over quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  That didn’t seem to pacify him. His mouth tightened into a straight line.

  “Nathan, what did Riley say?” she asked again.

  Nathan flicked his blinker on, taking them through a neighborhood to get to the hospital that sat on the border of the north end of town. “He was worried about you and upset that something happened. Naturally.”

  Another bump and a wave of pain shot through her foot. Grace’s fingernails dug into the flesh on either hand.

  Nathan reached out and loosened her hold, taking one of her hands in his. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry about Riley. We’ll handle it.”