Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (16 page)

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

I’m starting to visualize ways of taking his life.  I’ve thought of hurting people before, but it’s always been more of an emotional pain.  I find that harder to recover from.  What I want to do to Davyd is pure torture.

The things I see in my head when I think of him frighten me because I know I could be pushed to a breaking point.  I know I could be capable of the things I imagine.  I can easily become the devil himself.

Right now, I’m tempted.

A knock at the door brings me out of my downward spiral into insanity.  My body starts shaking from fear that it could be Davyd.  I’m not ready to deal with him again.  What if he demands more payment?

I think I’d kill him tonight.

The knock sounds out again.  He won’t be ignored.  It makes it worse.  On wobbly legs, I stand from the couch and slowly make my way to the door.  I search my apartment for weapons, already deciding I won’t let him touch me again tonight.  Once was more than I can take today.  A third knock sounds and my stomach lurches.  I shove my fist to my mouth, trying to stop myself from being sick.

At the door, I lay my head against it for a second, trying to gain a little strength from the solidity of the wood.  I take a couple deep breaths and with no more time to waste, open the door.

“Hey, Gra—oh my gosh!  Are you sick?  I know you left early, but I heard you had an appointment.  I brought pizza because I thought you’d be busy all afternoon.  Maybe I should have called first.  Gosh.  Should I go get you some soup?”

“Hey, buttercup.  Pizza sounds great.  Come on in.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cammie

Holy hell.  Grant looks terrible.  I’ve never seen him look so pale and he’s sweating.  I think he may fall over, he looks so weak.  I should have called before coming over.  Stupid me, assuming we still had plans tonight.  He left work early.  I should have known better than to just come knocking on his door.

Why the hell am I babbling away to a guy who looks like death warmed over?

Stop talking, Cammie, and say goodnight.  Let the poor man get some rest.  He obviously needs it.

Wait, what did he just say?  Did he call me buttercup?  Oh, he invited me in.  Maybe I should stay and make sure he’s okay.

I step into his apartment and notice right away that it’s much fancier than my own, but it’s not decorated.  Well, it has furniture and electronics, but there are no pictures, nothing that makes it feel like a home.  There are no knick-knacks or staging, as others would call it.  There’s no life to it.  It’s just a bunch of space.  I can’t learn anything about Grant from his surroundings.

“What kind of pizza did you bring and is that beer?  How’d you swing that?”

“No, not beer.  Well, not really.  It’s IBC…root beer.  It’s my favorite.  My mom ships cases of it to me.  She makes sure I stay stocked up.”

The smirk he gives me makes me wonder whether he’s patronizing me or thinks I’m humorous.  I can’t tell.  He’s off tonight.  Normally, he would have taken the stuff from my hands.

“Where should I put this?” I ask, slightly lifting the stuff I’m holding.

“Oh, shit, sorry.  Let me take those.”

“Honestly, Grant, you look like you might collapse under the weight.  How about you tell me where to put them?  Are you sure you’re okay?”

Wow.  Did that sound as horrible to him as it did to my own ears?  That was mean.

“Yeah.  I fell asleep and you woke me up from a nightmare, I guess.”

“You want to talk about it?” I offer.  It must have been a doozy for him to look and act like this.

“I don’t remember it.”

Ah-ha.  Sure you don’t.  That’s what all the guys say.  At least, the tough guys like Grant.

“Is pepperoni okay?  I’m kind of boring when it comes to my pizza.”

He chuckles at me and my belly does little flip-flops.  You’d think I’d have a perfect six pack with how often my stomach gets a work out around him.

“I’m a guy.  I inhale pretty much anything.”

I can’t think about him inhaling.  Again, word references are making me a hormonal mess.  Why did I not pick a boy from home and just do the ditty before I came out here to be around all these hot ass TV stars?  All I think about is sex.  I’m worse than a teenage boy and I’ve heard how much they think about doing it.

“Cammie?”

“Huh?”

“I was telling you I’m going to go wash my face and I’ll be right back.  The plates are right there and if you want a glass for your root beer, they’re right there.”

“Thanks.”

While he’s in the other room, I grab us both plates and serve two pieces each.  I’m not prissy, so I forego the glass.  There’s no table to eat at.  I hadn’t noticed that when I first walked in.  But he has stools at the island in the kitchen.

I grab the plates from the counter and turn to find Grant, standing against the wall, staring at me.  His hair is wet and he looks more composed.  His brown eyes are trying to tell me something, but I can’t understand the message.

“I was just bringing the food to the island.  I didn’t know what you want to drink,” I say lamely.

“We can eat in the living room,” he replies, smiling.  I feel like I’m back with the Grant I’ve been getting to know.  “I promised you a movie.”

He walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out a beer.  I hope he doesn’t offer one to me.  I don’t want to sound lame or like a teenager when I say I’m too young to drink.  I know lots of people don’t care about that, but a car full of kids from my high school died in a drunk driving accident my sophomore year.  I haven’t touched alcohol and don’t plan to until I’m of age.  Maybe not even then.

If I’m honest, it’s one of the few things in life that scares me.  I’ve seen friends become totally different people under the influence, do things they never would have done sober.  I’ve also seen the regret they live with afterward.  Then, there are the hangovers and getting sick.  It just doesn’t seem worth it to me.

“So, what work of wonder did you pick for us to watch tonight?” I ask playfully as we sit down to eat.

He gives me a look that asks,
do you really doubt my movie picking ability?,
and I laugh.  I love how easy it is to spend time with him.

“Only the best movie of all time.  Drum roll, please.”  He drums out a beat on his leg which makes me smile.  I know no one else ever sees this side of him.  He’s nice to people, but he’s never playful.  “Avatar.”

“Ooh.  I love that movie.  One of the best love stories of our time written into an action-packed film and this sci-fi geek gets her fill of all things alien.”  I know I need to stop babbling.

“Whoa!  Love story.  Are you trying to ruin the movie for me?  This is one of the most kick ass movies of our generation and you just reduced it to a ‘love’ story?”

Not only does he throw up air quotes, but he looks pained.  I burst out laughing.  I can’t help it.  Grant just had a minor tantrum.

Before I know what’s going on, my plate is removed from my hand and he’s tickling me mercilessly.

“Grant, stop!” I screech in between gushing laughs.  I try throwing my arms out in the way to protect myself, but he easily restrains me.  So, I use my legs.

“Oh no, little girl.  I’m going to tickle you until you admit that Avatar is not a love story.  It’s kick ass.”

“Never,” I laugh.  “You can’t diminish the love and passion Jake Sully and Neytiri have for each other.”

“Take it back,” he demands, smiling.  He sits on top of my legs to stop their flailing.

“I won’t do it.  Admit it, Grant.  Deep down, you watch Avatar because you’re secretly wishing it was about you.”

He stills above me and the smile leaves his face.  He doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t make a move to get off me.  It’s as if he’s reverted into himself.

I lay still beneath him for a few minutes, until the silence and his lack of expression or emotion becomes too much to witness.  Wiggling one of my hands free, I bring it to his cheek.  In his lost state, I’m not sure he realizes he nuzzles into my touch.  It breaks my heart how disconnected he is.  Not just from me and this moment, but his apartment speaks for it, too.  I want to know who hurt him and I want them to pay.

“Grant,” I say gently.

Slowly, his eyes start to clear and he becomes aware of his surroundings.  He must feel my hand against his skin because he quickly sits up and then moves off me completely.  He offers me his hand to help me sit up.  Always the gentleman.  I miss the playful guy from a minute ago.

“You’re right, Cammie.  They do have a pretty epic love story.”

He can’t look at me when he says this and I wonder if he’s ever been in love before.  Someday, I hope we get to a point where I can ask him that.

We grab our pizza that is now cold and Grant starts the movie.  We sit a little further apart than I’d like, but I can tell he needs the space.  I don’t know what went through his head, but it did a number on him and I think it still is.  I wish I could help him.

After we finish eating, I take our plates to the sink.  It gives me the reason I was looking for to sit closer to him.  I hate the way his body tenses as I sit down.  I want to tell him I’m not sitting on his lap and I’m not naked, but maybe that’s the problem.  Maybe he’s attracted to me, too.

“Grant?”

“Yeah,” he says, not taking his eyes from the TV.

“Why’d you call me buttercup?”

“Story for another day, okay?”

“Okay.”

I can tell he’s not going to talk about it, even if I poke and prod, so I let it go.  For now.  I will find out what buttercup means to him.  For tonight, I lay my head on his shoulder, watch the rest of Avatar as his friend, and wonder just what friend means to him.

Chapter Sixteen

Grant

“You aren’t who I thought you were!  I hate you!”

“Cammie, wait!  Let me explain.  Please,” I plead with her rapidly retreating back.  “No!  Don’t walk away!  You’re the only good I have in my life!”

I fall to my knees, unable to chase her, knowing I never deserved her in the first place.

“Cammie, I need you!”

She turns to me, tears streaming down her face.  Nothing could have gutted me more than the wetness coating her cheeks.  I did this to her.  I want to get up, to run to her, take her in my arms, and comfort her, but I remain paralyzed by the pain I see in her blue eyes.  I am a monster.

“I don’t care what you need!” she screams.  “How could you?  I trusted you with everything.  With everything, Grant, and…you…you lied.”  She sounds so defeated, even in her anger, and I know I’m the only one who ever could have hurt her like that.  I took her trust and turned it around on her.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for sorry.  I’ll never forgive you.  I hope you rot in hell.”

She turns away again and breaks into a run.

“Cammie!”

She keeps running and I still can’t get up to chase her.  All I can do is watch her move farther away as my heart shrivels up inside my chest and becomes nonexistent.  Without her, there’s nothing left to beat for.

“Cammie, come back,” I rasp out.  “I’m sorry.”

I jolt awake, my body tense and my fingers gripping my sheets.  “Fuck!”  That dream felt too real.  So real, tears are falling down my face.  Cammie is supposed to just be my friend, but ever since Tucker started back at work yesterday, something has shifted in me.  I’m worried what will happen between her and I.

Cammie did her second scene with Tucker yesterday and she didn’t falter, not one step.  Whatever nerves got to her on her first day or however Tucker’s sadness affected her, that’s over now.  She’s able to eye him down and act her ass off.  Sooner rather than later, they’ll be doing sex scenes together and I’m afraid of what I’ll do when I see his hands on her.  It doesn’t matter that it isn’t real.

It’s only matters that it’s Tucker touching her.

Just seeing them acting together is throwing me into a fucking tizzy.  I need to get my head straight.

It’s more than the Tucker issue, though.  I’m scared of what will happen if she finds out about the skeletons in my closet. 
Hello, nightmare manifesting my subconscious mind much?
  Cammie is the first person I’ve wanted in my life for years.  Eventually, she’ll come to the realization that I’m evil and run away from me in terror.  Losing her will crush me, but it’s inevitable.  Despite the impending pain, I can’t walk away from her.

I hate that I’ve allowed myself to fall into this position.

I went against my own motto—mercy is for the weak.

I saw her and there was no way I wasn’t having her in my life.  Now, I’m going to pay for that.  Here’s to hoping I can somehow survive the avalanche that’s started falling.

Chapter Seventeen

Cammie

“I was thinking I should throw you a party for your birthday this weekend.”

He says it so matter of fact, I’m not sure whether he’s serious or joking.

“Um, that’s really not necessary.  I’m sure I can find something fun to do.”

“Come on, Cammie.  It will be fun.  Besides, the crew loves a good party and it gives you a chance to get to know more people.”

“I don’t know.”

I look at the half of his handsome face I can see and try to figure out how to let him down gently.  I’m not comfortable with him spending his money on me.  I know we’re friends and yes, friends throw each other birthday parties sometimes, but we haven’t known each other that long.  It feels kind of weird to accept this.

“Hey, Eddie…oh, sorry, I should have knocked.  I didn’t know you had someone in your office.  Hey, Cammie.”

“Hi, Tucker.”

“Great scene yesterday.  Can’t wait to get back out there and see what you do today.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile.

While Tucker was gone dealing with his emergency, I made a decision about the situation here.  What happened on this set before I got here sucked, but we are all adults and we have to deal.  Victoria and Grant were the most at fault, but from what I’m learning, it sounds like Tucker wasn’t a very nice boyfriend.  Does that mean I condone cheating?  Hell no.  But I don’t condone someone walking all over his significant other either.