The Sweetest Scent Part 8

That was true. Lacey had told Audrey a lot of private stuff about her past, her dreams, and her relationship with Bro. Not once had Audrey broken a confidence.

"Yes, I know." And a part of her wanted to speak about what had transpired with someone so it would be... more real. Lacey snorted at her ridiculous notions. "He loves me."

Audrey's eyes sparkled with glee, and her grin widened. "Wow. He said that?" Unable to say it with her quivering voice, Lacey merely nodded. "Oh. My. f.u.c.king. G.o.d." For a second Audrey just breathed really, really fast, and Lacey was getting concerned. Then Audrey let out a loud whoop of girlish glee. "Oh, Lacey. I'm so freaking happy for you." She hugged Lacey so hard her bones crackled under the loving onslaught. Lacey laughed with her best friend, embracing her just as heartily. Suddenly, Audrey pulled back a bit. "So, where did did you sleep last night?" you sleep last night?"

Lacey scoffed, playfully outraged. "Not in Bro's bed!"

"Oh." Audrey managed to sound somewhat disappointed, but then she grinned. "Well, plenty of time for hanky-panky later. He loves you, and we all love you, too, honey."

"Me too. Love you all, I mean," she said. She hoped her confession of Bro's love for her was one she could share with others in the future, and no one would bat an eye at her h.o.m.os.e.xuality. Unfortunately, that line of thinking brought her back to the only family member she had left, who couldn't stand the sight of her. Despondency reared its ugly head again.

As if sensing the shift in the mood, Audrey said softly, "You're not alone, honey. I'm here for you, and so are a bunch of others. Families are forged through fire, and we're all definitely battle-hardened b.i.t.c.hes."

Lacey had to chuckle upon hearing that. "G.o.d, Audrey. You're so bad."

Audrey's arms tightened around her as she sighed smugly. "Perfectly bad."

"Now you're f.u.c.king girls too? Finally you're acting like a man, but you've still got a d.a.m.n dress on? Get up, Lance. I'm taking you home."

Both girls jumped at the sound of the man's harsh voice. Lacey started at the sight of her haggard-looking father, who hurried toward the bleachers, his clothes rumpled and reeking of booze. His eyes were bloodshot, and he snarled at Audrey.

"Dad...." Lacey stood up, shocked and afraid.

Audrey got up too, her worry palpable. "Want me to call for help, Lace?"

"His. Name. Is. Lance." Roger shook his fist in front of Audrey. Having successfully climbed the two rows of seats, he was now right on their level.

"No, it's not." Audrey's body had gone rigid, yet Lacey could tell she was primed for a fight.

"Stupid wh.o.r.e," Roger swore under his breath and closed the gap between him and Lacey. "You're coming home, boy, where you belong. And I'll whip this nonsense from your mind if it's the last thing I do."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, Roger grabbed Lacey's hair and yanked her with him. Lacey fell on her knees, feeling a sharp pain and her clothing rip as she cried out. As she struggled to break free, her nails dug into the skin of his hand, but he slapped her across the head and made everything spin and wave and sparkle. Nausea roiled in her stomach, and bile rose in her throat. Pain rattled inside her brain like seeds in a calabash.

Suddenly, Roger grunted, and his grip on her hair loosened.

Lacey heard a shrill shriek. "Let go of her, motherf.u.c.ker!" And as her vision cleared, she saw Audrey draped over Roger's back, her arms around his throat.

By then Roger was cursing loudly, using words Lacey had never heard and hoped to never hear again. He tried to shake Audrey loose. Finally, he got a fierce grip on her arm and tossed her over his shoulder. Audrey landed on the wooden bleacher bench with a thud, all the air whooshing out of her lungs as she gasped in agony.

In horror, Lacey saw Roger wrap his hands around Audrey's throat and squeeze.

It was all too much. Lacey knew the man she had called father was gone for good.

"Let go of her," she screamed, throwing herself on him.

In a heap of flailing limbs, they fell down on the bench below with Roger on his back and Lacey on top of him, slapping and punching and scratching and kicking. Deafened by the roar of blood in her ears, she was faintly aware of an animalistic squeal that seemed to be emanating from within her. But then everything faded to the black of instinct, shot through with red and white flashes of anger and pain.

"WOULD you hurry up already, you slouch?" Bradley's taunting voice ribbed at Bro's expense, and he flipped his friend off, causing nothing more than a chuckle in response. you hurry up already, you slouch?" Bradley's taunting voice ribbed at Bro's expense, and he flipped his friend off, causing nothing more than a chuckle in response.

On their way out to the field, Bro slowed his step. As much as he wanted to see his girl in the bleachers, he worried about her state of mind. He wondered if maybe this attempt at normalcy was premature. Perhaps she wasn't ready to watch him play ball all afternoon, sitting there with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs and think about all the c.r.a.p that had been flying at her lately. Bro didn't want her thinking too much, because he knew where that would lead her. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Geez, Bro. You look like you've already lost the game." Bradley punched him lightly on the arm.

"Pansies get stepped on." Deacon brushed past them, hitting his shoulder on Bro's arm hard on purpose.

The rough bullying act had the opposite effect on Bro of what was intended. Deacon may have wanted to crush Bro's spirit. Instead, he got a fighter on his hands. "Enjoy your winning days, d.i.c.k d.i.c.k. Once you're out of high school, all you'll be doing is asking "You want fries with that?" and I'll be there with a video camera in hand to record it for all time."

Bradley wasn't the only one who laughed. Deacon's expression darkened.

Then one of his teammates, Spencer, called out, confused, "What the h.e.l.l is all that ruckus?"

Everyone stopped in midstep to listen.

Bro's heart froze in an instant when he recognized the desperate cries of the girl he loved.

His feet were moving before his brain caught on. He felt as if he were on fire, as if his feet had wings, never touching the ground. Behind him he heard more feet running, the thumping loud in the open s.p.a.ce between the school buildings and the field.

As he rounded the corner of the bleachers, he came to a halt, sensing Bradley right next to him.

What he saw chilled him to the bone.

Roger Purcell was fighting on the lawn with Lacey and Audrey, all of them tumbling and shouting and ripping into each other on the ground.

"Oh my G.o.d...," Bro managed to gasp.

And then he was running again, his feet finding their way to the girl he adored.

"Stop!" he yelled, grabbing onto the first limb he could reach amid the tussle.

The arm belonged to Audrey, who growled and fought back, probably indifferent to whoever was holding her. "f.u.c.king let me go! He's hurting her!"

Bro all but tossed her aside, knowing Bradley would catch her. "Lace!" he shouted, so desperate to get her to safety his vision blurred. An elbow landed on his chest, and from the size and strength, he surmised it belonged to Roger, though he doubted the man realized who he had hit.

Other people joined in, trying to pull the two fighters apart as best they could.

Finally a slender arm came into reach, and Bro yanked Lacey up. "Stop!"

Lacey's eyes were glazed over and disoriented as she stared at Bro, clearly not recognizing him. Her nose had b.l.o.o.d.y blotches, as did her busted lower lip. She had scratches all over, and her dress and stockings were torn.

At long last, she blinked hard, frowning. "Bro...?"

"Yeah, babe. It's me. Snap out of it." Bro barely heard his own voice but was aware of the high-pitched quality.

The light of comprehension lit up Lacey's eyes, and she straightened up, looking over her shoulder at Roger, who was restrained by Bro's teammates, about to get up on his feet.

"He... he attacked Audrey...."

"What?!" Bradley's booming voice made everyone still, worried.

"She was trying to protect me," Lacey explained. She sniffled, but her eyes remained dry. "He was going to drag me back home and give me a lashing."

Bro pulled her into his arms. Lacey shivered; not the way she did when she was crying but in a strange stilted manner, so Bro a.s.sumed she was in shock or something. "He's not going to get the chance. Ricky, call Jordan and tell him to get his a.s.s over here, p.r.o.nto." Bro tossed his cell phone to one of the guys surrounding them. He almost never left it in his locker, not even during practice. One never knew when it might be needed in an emergency.

Like now when his girlfriend had been attacked by her drunk father.

Though not one of the team, Ricky Carlisle, Bradley's twin, often came by to watch his brother play. Today was no exception. He looked a lot like Bradley with his broad shoulders, ripped physique, and narrow hips, not to mention his brown eyes and dark-brown hair. In fact, he had an almost Latino appearance with his tanned skin. Bro wasn't as close to him as he was to Bradley, nor had Bro ever been attracted to him. Ricky wasn't Bro's type.

"Got it." Ricky flipped the cell lid open, found Jordan's contact info, and dialed. He made swift progress in explaining to Jordan on the other end what was happening. From the sound of it, Jordan had hung up almost immediately, which told Bro he was on his way here.

"He'll be here in five. He was close by," Ricky told Bro, handing him his cell phone back.

Bro tucked it in his jeans pocket. "Thanks."

"You had better calm down, Mr. Purcell. You don't want to get into any more trouble." Mr. Young, their sports teacher and football coach, was trying to pacify Roger. Even with his low, soothing voice, the middle-aged African-American man was having a hard time reaching his target, as Roger continued to spew curses.

"He's my son, you son of a b.i.t.c.h," Roger growled. "Get the f.u.c.k away from him. He's coming home with me, where he belongs."

"She isn't going anywhere with you," Bro spat out, barely holding on to his rage. He tried to rein his emotions back in control, but it was difficult. "Mr. Young, there's a temporary order of protection on Purcell. Jordan will explain everything." isn't going anywhere with you," Bro spat out, barely holding on to his rage. He tried to rein his emotions back in control, but it was difficult. "Mr. Young, there's a temporary order of protection on Purcell. Jordan will explain everything."

Ennis Young took one look at Lacey's battered face, and his own expression hardened as he nodded. "Understood." Turning back to Roger, he said slowly, "You need to calm down, Mr. Purcell. You're only making this worse for yourself. The police are on their way-"

"Good!" Roger shouted, his cheeks red, his eyes wild and wide. "They'll give me my son back. These f.a.ggots are keeping him from me."

Lacey broke out of Bro's hold, though he attempted to keep her close. "Dad, stop. I'm not going anywhere with you. These are good people. They are my friends."

"No! They turned my boy into a pansy-a.s.s little girl!"

Lacey was shaking now, but Bro saw it was anger. "I was like this long before I came here. Mom knew and understood-and she accepted me for who I am."

By then Roger was almost bellowing. The guys had a hard time holding him in place. "It's not enough you got her killed. You had to go and make yourself look like her and sound like her, even taking her name. You robbed me of my wife. You're no son of mine." At that, Lacey was by no means the only one staring in utter disbelief. Then Roger crumpled, started crying, and fell down on his knees, his whole body shaking. "If Lexie hadn't left the house to fetch you from your stupid violin lesson, she wouldn't have crashed and died. It's all your fault. You killed her." Then he was sobbing and babbling incoherently.

Bro couldn't believe any father would say that about his child. To blame his only child for something so heinous when it was only a tragic accident. It was too horrible to think about. Especially since Bro knew better. Lacey had told him this story a long time ago.

Glancing at Lacey, Bro saw her look at Roger with such sadness and despair it took his breath away. Yet, Lacey apparently wasn't going to say anything.

So Bro would. "That's not true. That's not how she-"

Lacey's hand clamped over his mouth so fast and rough Bro's lips tingled. "No."

But without relenting, Bro yanked her hand away from his mouth. "Tell him the truth, for f.u.c.k's sake."

"Does it look like he could listen, let alone understand, right now?" Lacey pointed at the man who had slumped on the ground, half-crying, half-muttering, completely out of it. "Now is not the time." Lacey's chin jutted out defiantly, daring a comeback.

Bro frowned, wondering what made her suddenly behave this way. He had expected her to fall to pieces, but she had no moisture in her eyes, and her stance was that of a warrior, not a victim. This was the strongest he had ever seen her, and he didn't know what to do. So he said nothing.

"Bro." Jordan's level voice cut through all the other interference within his head. Jordan came to stand at his side, his gaze sweeping over Roger coldly, then turning to Lacey with concern, and at long last landing on Bro with a question.

"We're okay. Lace might need to go to the emergency room-"

"I'm fine. A few sc.r.a.pes. Nothing I can't handle. I want to go home."

Anxious and baffled, Bro wanted to grab her and shake her until she explained why she was acting like this, so cool, distant, and indifferent. But Jordan beat him to it.

"Kevin will take your father to the station and formally charge him with a.s.sault, Lace. I'll take you and Bro home in Bro's car." He turned to Bro. "Got the keys?"

"They're in my locker," Bro said shortly, adding, "I need to change."

Jordan nodded, his expression serious. "Okay. Make it quick."

The thought to do otherwise hadn't even crossed Bro's mind. It was all Bro could do to leave Lacey's side even for a minute but he managed to put one foot in front of the other. He still lingered though and watched silently as Jordan's partner, Kevin Thompson, attached handcuffs to Roger's wrists, brought him up on his feet with his considerable strength, and escorted him off the field toward the SUV by the curb. Blue lights flashed across the front grill, turning the private vehicle into a uniformed one.

Then Bro rushed to the locker room, changed back into his T-shirt and jeans, grabbed his backpack, and charged back to the field. It had seemed to take forever, when all he wanted was to be with his girl, but the tableau had hardly changed when he returned, as if in his absence time had frozen in place, just waiting for his reappearance.

He handed the keys to Jordan wordlessly, and then watched as Jordan guided Lacey toward the school parking lot where Bro's weathered, maroon-colored Dodge Durango-he had gotten it used for three grand a year ago-waited for them. Jordan kept a constant hand on Lacey's shoulder, but she remained stiff and silent as they walked; not once did either of them look back at Bro.

Audrey caught up with them, hugged Lacey wholeheartedly, and exchanged a few words Bro couldn't hear before they parted ways. After that, Audrey returned to Bradley's side, letting her boyfriend hold her. Her beautiful face wasn't mangled either, save for a few sc.r.a.pes, so it looked like both girls had been incredibly lucky today.

Bewildered, Bro stared at Lacey's retreating back, not having a clue what was happening with the girl he loved. With the boy he loved. With Lacey.

"You'd better go after them." Bradley's deep tone brought him out of his glum reverie, and the nudge on his arm helped out too.

"Yeah." He had more to say but couldn't find the words, so he moved off, following Jordan and Lacey, very confused.

As he pa.s.sed Deacon, who stood close by staring in the direction where Kevin had taken Roger, Bro couldn't help himself. "Take a long, hard look at that a.s.shole, Rake. An adult bully. Must be an idol for you. That's your future right there."

If Deacon replied, Bro didn't wait to hear it. Slouching, he felt worn to the bone, and the stress in his stomach tightened his intestines into knots, one after another. He should have been happy to witness Roger's outburst. The order of protection would definitely be continued after this incident. He could even end up doing hard time. Bro should have been elated.

But he felt nothing but a hollow of perplexity. Lacey had seemed so rigid, so detached somehow, almost alien. No tears, no visible reactions. Maybe it was shock, he concluded. After all Lacey had been through recently and before, surely she was allowed to feel and behave any way she wanted. Bradley had been right all along. Bro needed to give her time and s.p.a.ce to work through her issues.

Swallowing hard, he realized he had no idea how to do that. Not when her ache was his ache too.

LACEY'S smell had changed. smell had changed.

It was the first thing Bro noticed once they got to the loft. Jordan took her statement, and Sebastian made them all a late lunch, or early dinner. Bro honestly didn't care.

Her typical half-feminine, half-masculine perfume, oh so sweet oh so sweet, now held the bitter, coppery tang of blood. It clung to her skin ever after she had cleaned up in the bathroom-alone. She hadn't allowed Bro, or anyone, entry.

Deciding to give her privacy, Bro retreated into his bedroom, closed the door, and let Jordan interview Lacey one-on-one. Lying on his back on the bed, his hands behind his head, Bro stared at the ceiling, unmoving. His head was empty apart from the flickers of emotions, like candles in a dark room, igniting and flaming out. But they flew by like fireflies, and he had no will to catch even one of them for closer inspection.

Only Lacey could answer these questions inside his head and heart.