The hem of Jace’s tee smacks my bare thighs as I hop from the truck and run inside. Classic country croons from the jukebox in the corner. I step around the hunchback locals cowering over their drinks and slip into a small opening beside the bar. A whistle catches my ear, but I ignore it. I wave as Cindy looks up.
With pinched brows, she ambles down to the edge, throwing her snake-like braid off her shoulder. “What’re you doin’ in here, sugar? Everythin’ alright?”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I shake my head. “Jace was arrested.”
Her expression falls. “Arrested? What for?”
“For defending me.”
She leans back and yells through an open doorway, “Rick! Take over!”, then ducks under the bar. Leering eyes bore into my skin as I follow her out. The heavy door closes with a thud, leaving them all on the other side. “Now tell me what happened.”
The entire story rushes from my mouth. Troy, the party, Jace’s stupid act of valor … it all spills onto Cindy as the blood drains from her face. She runs her hand through her messy hair and spins in a single, tight circle. “Okay, first things first. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. I’m gonna head to the station. You go home and wait for me, alright?”
“I’m coming with you.”
She side-eyes me with a humorless laugh. “That’s the last thing we need right now.”
Her words bruise my heart. “What do you mean?”
“The McNamaras are rich, and they’re mean. You goin’ in there shoutin’ rape accusations against their boy will only make things worse.”
My blood runs cold. “So he’s just supposed to get away with it?”
She puts warm hands on either side of my face. “It’ll all come out in the wash, I promise you. But for now, I gotta bring Jace home.”
***
The noxious stink of bleach burns my eyes. I scour the grout with the scrubby side of my sponge, then flip it over to wipe away the remains. It’s been an hour since Cindy left for the station, and I’m stewing with so much nervous energy, I can’t sit still. I started in the kitchen, and when every cupboard was cleansed and each appliance gleaming, I moved on to the bathroom.
What the hell is taking so long?
The back door quietly creaks, and footsteps shuffle in. I scramble to my feet and peer around the corner as Jace scuffs across the freshly mopped floor to grab a beer. He and Cindy don’t say a word, and they don't have to. The tension hangs heavy in the space, blending with the residual fumes of Easy-Off still poisoning the air.
She stops short in the middle of the room, her head rotating like an owl. “Um … El?”
“Yeah?” I step out from the shadows, sponge in hand.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Flush creeps across my face. “Rage cleaning?” I shrug. “How’d it go?”
“Fuckin’ bullshit,” Jace grumbles, turning his back to both of us. Two seconds later, his bedroom door slams, and I jolt like a scared Chihuahua.
“About that good,” Cindy replies. She sinks into a chair and toes off her shoes. “But we’re home now. You can retire your scouring gloves to greener pastures.”
I giggle, although nothing about this whole scenario is funny. “I should go talk to him.”
She winces. “I wouldn’t.”
I pull a heavy breath through my nose and blow it out my mouth. Giving him space is obviously the smart choice, but I can’t do it. I’m the reason he went to Troy’s, and I’m the reason he ended up in jail. I can’t just sit back and watch it all unfold without trying to make it right.
“Jace?” I tap on his door with my knuckle. “Can I come in?”
“You gonna barge in anyway if I say no?”