Stupid Girl(68)

This was it. To not go forward with this, with trusting Brax? It meant I was a grade-A coward in the worst way possible. According to Jilly there was no such goddamn thing in existence as a cowardly Beaumont. I breathed. Then began.

“By the summer before my senior year, Kelsy and I had been dating for almost a year. We’d known each other since the fourth grade, when his family moved to Jasper.” My eyes watched Brax’s as he studied me, fierce and with every ounce of concentration evident in the shadowy blue depths. I smiled, and it was a mixture of good memories and deception that belied the humor tugging at my mouth. “Kelsy’s from a very affluent Texas family from Dallas. His father is a successful attorney with statewide connections and a shocking amount of power, political and otherwise. And Kelsy, boy,” I shook my head. “Kelsy had charm. Charisma. Respectful to adults, and all the guys looked up to him. All the girls swooned at his feet, including me. He,” I tried to decide how to describe it, and couldn’t. “He just had that thing that made every girl at Jasper High wish to God she was me.” I let out another whispery laugh. “His parents weren’t too happy about their son dating a poor ranch girl, but they left him alone about it. Kelsy sure had me fooled, though. Had everyone fooled, actually, only they just didn’t know it. Still don’t. Everyone except my grandpa Jilly. Nothing gets by him. Ever. Anyway.”

Brax’s body had grown tense; I could tell by the slight pressure he’d started exerting in squeezing my hand. He wanted to speak, and I believed it was extremely difficult for him not to, but he didn’t say a single word. Just listened. It was a lethal silence though; deadly and dangerous. Even his breathing had stilled. In anticipation of what I’d say, maybe? Inside, I shook like crazy. This was it. I hadn’t told a soul about that horrible nightmare of a night that I barely remembered. But I was going to tell Brax. Trust him.

I continued, carefully choosing my words. “Like I said, it was the summer before senior year. It was Saturday, a typical August Texas night, blistering and sticky, and our graduating class had gathered at Marshal’s Pond for a huge party. It’d been kept a secret, of course, since there was a lot of under aged drinking going on.” Dread began nagging at me as I remembered details, and I stared at Brax’s chest now, focusing on the rise and fall as he breathed, and it urged me to push past the pain and continue. I swallowed. “I’d lied and told my mom I was sleeping over at Carrie Yeoman’s house, and she’d believed me without question. I’d never lied to her before, but Kelsy said we couldn’t miss our own class party. And I knew I’d never be given permission to go. So I did it.” I may have been pretty toasted, but I recalled his angry face, jaws clenched, cheeks reddened. He was so mad at me. I drew a deep breath. “We’d been at the pond since four in the afternoon, swimming, drinking beer, having a swell time. We had a bonfire once it got dark, and the fun continued. Just a bunch of teenagers goofing off, making memories.” I stared down at the blanket now, a small space between Brax’s shoulders and mine, and forced my self to breathe as the memories flooded back. When I lifted my gaze, Brax’s stare held me steady, so profoundly, even under the cover of darkness. I could see clearly enough to notice the depth at which he listened. And it gave me a strength that surprised me. “I remember only a few things after the darkness came. One, was Kelsy’s insistence that I have one more drink. I’d had enough and could tell it, but he was so damned adamant.” I shook my head. “He started to get angry, telling me I was going to ruin our fun, that we’d only have shitty memories of our class party. I caved. He left, brought me a drink. Everyone had their trucks backed up to the bonfire in a huge circle, and we sat on the tailgate of the Beast, the very same truck he drives now. I remember … drinking the whole thing. You know, typical red plastic cup.” I shook my head again. “The next thing I remember was my lip being sewn up in the emergency room—”

“Jesus fuck! He hit you, Gracie?” Brax pushed off the ground, clasped both hands behind his neck and paced the pitcher’s mound. “Jesus fucking Christ!” He returned and stopped beside me. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” he growled. Crouching beside me, he ducked his head, and he grasped my face with both his hands. They were shaking. “Tell me the rest, Gracie.” He dropped his hands and waited.

Fury fell off him in pulsing sheets as more curses followed, and I pushed up to sit cross-legged. His reaction made me rethink my decision to tell him everything. I didn’t want Brax to go nuts on Kelsy. He’d get into trouble. Maybe even lose his scholarship. Kelsy Evans wasn’t worth it. Not at all. I swallowed hard, pushing that part of my nightmare into a darkened corner in my mind. “He didn’t hit me, Brax. I tripped.” He hadn’t hit me, at least that’s what he’d sworn to my brothers. But I had no memory of anything after that red cup, except the emergency room. A burning between my legs. And having my lip sewn up. Brax laced his hands behind his neck and paced. Swore. After seeing his reaction now? It’d been a good call not to tell him the one part that I felt sure would ignite his fury like a stick of dynamite.