More Than Need You

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More Than Need You Page 36

by Shayla Black


  I stand awkwardly in the foyer, waiting. She glances at her watch.

  The clock is ticking.

  “You can’t talk your way out of what you did, Griff. You can’t apologize. I know you love me…in your way. I love you. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change anything. I can’t trust you to trust me.” She meanders to the sofa and sits with a heavy sigh. “You’re broken. And if I stay, you’ll break me, as well.”

  I follow and sit beside her on the couch, gripping my thighs so I don’t give in to the urge to touch her. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. I want you to understand why. Even if it doesn’t change anything between us, at least you’ll know the reason I broke us apart twice, and maybe you’ll see that I never meant to hurt you.”

  She crosses her legs away from me, arms wrapped around her waist. Everything about her body language screams at me to keep my distance. I’m on my end of the sofa, doing my best to respect that.

  “I’m listening,” she murmurs.

  “I told you about Julia.”

  She nods. “I know she hurt you but—”

  “She wasn’t the problem, just the final straw.” I swallow, feeling like I’m going to choke on the boulder of my past. It’s stuck in my throat, suffocating me. “It started months before that. When I turned sixteen, my dad thought it would be a great rite of passage to get me laid, so he brought me to his office and set me up with his assistant and mistress, AnnaBeth. She was twenty-three. She couldn’t type at all…but my father hired her because he wanted her to bang out more than correspondence. I didn’t know her. I didn’t even like her.”

  “He told you to have sex with her?”

  “What he said was that he’d made the same offer to Maxon with his previous assistant, Danielle. My brother passed on the opportunity to ‘become a man.’ Dad mocked Maxon and made his life hell from that day forward. He constantly referred to my brother as a coward and a pussy. I didn’t want Dad’s needling and contempt. So I told myself losing my virginity was no big deal.” I shrug. “After all, I was sixteen and horny. Sex with her was better than randomly choosing some girl at school to deflower. I was happy to skip the blind-leading-the-blind thing. If not AnnaBeth, it would have been someone else. I had a lot of excuses for why this was okay. My dad always said relationships were a waste, and after seeing him and Mom constantly at each other’s throats, I didn’t want one.”

  “They’re toxic together,” Britta agrees quietly.

  I nod. “They feed each other’s worst tendencies. I’m glad they’re finally getting divorced and ending their thirty-five years of lying, cheating, and misery.”

  “I can’t disagree.” Her face softens. “So you had sex with this woman?”

  “A lot of it.”

  Britta looks somewhere between stunned and horrified. “She just…let you?”

  “She was happy to. She said having sex in the office was way better than working.”

  My angel’s expression asks me if I’m kidding. She must know I’m not. “What a—”

  “Yeah. But Dad was glad to have a ‘real man’ as a son, so he hired me to work after school. I thought I wanted to follow in his professional footsteps. According to him, I had the killer instinct. And the market was volatile that year. He claimed he wanted to train an analyst the ‘right way.’ What he really meant was that he was traveling a lot and wanted someone to keep AnnaBeth thoroughly occupied whom he could control.”

  “You,” she says, her voice painfully quiet.

  I’ve barely started, and she’s already nearly mute. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about my sordid sexual past, either. “Exactly.”

  “Your dad wasn’t any sort of responsible father. You weren’t even old enough to consent. That woman raped you repeatedly.”

  I give her an ugly scoff. “I never saw myself as a victim. Hell, guys at school thought I was downright lucky. Sex anytime I wanted it with a woman who knew how to please a man? They envied me.” I frown. “I won’t say the pleasure wasn’t great, especially at first, and I won’t lie and say I ever turned her down. I kept…” I reflect, trying to put that time of my life into words. “I kept thinking there had to be more. Physically, it was fine. Great. But every time we did it, I felt less for her and more… I don’t know. Empty is the word, I guess. I kept waiting for it to mean something. It never did.”

  “How long did that go on?”

  “About six months.”

  “And all that time, your dad was still having sex with her?”

  I really don’t want to answer that. I’m nauseated when I think of it now. “Yeah.”

  Every time I think my angel can’t look more shaken by something I say, I open my mouth again.

  “Oh, my god.” She lifts a trembling hand over her lips.

  If she thinks that’s bad, I’m just getting started.

  “And you weren’t having any sort of…relationship with her?” Britta is still having a hard time wrapping her brain around what I’m admitting.

  “We didn’t date, if that’s what you mean.” Having a relationship with AnnaBeth would have been as cozy as cuddling up to an octopus. If she wasn’t bending herself over my desk or bobbing her head between my legs, I never saw her. “We didn’t even talk. In fact, I didn’t really attempt more than casual flirting with someone my age until I was almost nineteen.”

  “So, you’re saying she warped you and that’s why you are…the way you are?”

  “No. I had to explain AnnaBeth because, if I didn’t, you couldn’t comprehend what happened next. One day, I was too wrapped up in what she was doing to me orally to realize I should have been in a meeting. The firm lost a client. The pressure from other partners was too much and Dad had to fire me.”

  “After letting his mistress abuse you, he threw you under the bus?” She blinks at me incredulously.

  “Actually, I was relieved. I didn’t have to see AnnaBeth anymore. I didn’t have to have sex with the gossipy, catty, and vindictive shrew. It was for the best—or it should have been. Everything would have been all right—mostly—if she hadn’t decided she wanted to be the next Mrs. Barclay Reed. You see, when my mom asked why I got fired, I told her that I’d been goofing around. It was kind of true. Dad happily went along with it.”

  “Of course he did.” Britta scoffs. “That way he didn’t have to take any of the blame.”

  Precisely. “But AnnaBeth knocked on our front door one day while I was in school, just before the end of my junior year. She told my mother everything. Every. Single. Thing.”

  Britta’s jaw drops wide. “What a heartless, horrible…”

  Bitch? Yeah. “She was. When I got home, my mom confronted me. I thought she was going to be furious with my dad. I thought she would scold or ground me for not telling her sooner—or telling anyone who could put a stop to it. I had visions that she might even call the police. I expected something. But AnnaBeth went on and on about my prowess. And my dad’s, too. She was probably just looking for any blade in her arsenal that would stab my mom in the heart.”

  Little did she know that Linda Reed had grown an iron shield around hers years ago. I discovered that ugly truth.

  Easing to the edge of the sofa cushion, Britta leans closer. “What did she do?”

  “My mom? First, she asked me what happened.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I confessed to everything. I knew she was already aware of my dad’s hookups, affairs, and mistresses. But I thought she would be shocked by what had happened to me. I thought she would make sure no one used me again.” I duck my head because I can’t look at Britta right now. I might not be able to look at her for the rest of this confession. “Instead, my mom cooed and awwed, like she was comforting me. Then, once I’d gotten my emotions under control, she asked me if I would help her get voted onto the country club’s social committee—a really prestigious honor in her eyes. According to her, she’d always been snubbed because she came from a dirt-poor Nebraska farm, and that made her blood
less blue.”

  Britta drops her hand on my knee. I didn’t realize she’d come that close. I had no idea she was going to touch me again. I jolt when her warmth seeps into my skin. It’s as if I’m alive again.

  I find the guts to lift my head and meet her stare. Is this the last time I’ll ever be this close to love—to her?

  “What did she mean?”

  “Well, if I could just be a good boy and ‘persuade’ the committee members she’d make a fine addition…”

  Britta’s horrified gasp guts me, and I look away again. Yeah, I never wanted her to know just how fucked up I was. But I couldn’t shove it down forever. One way or another, my damage was going to ruin us. At least now she doesn’t have to wonder if she somehow contributed to our problems.

  “She wanted you to sleep with them?”

  I nod. “I didn’t know that at first. She simply told me to visit them. I had better manners than Maxon, you see. Once they met me, of course they would understand how she could add to their community.”

  “But what she meant was, scratch their itch until they were convinced to let your mom onto the committee?” Britta looks outraged. Or is that disgusted?

  “I think blackmailed would be a better term.”

  “Oh, my god… She’s your mother.”

  “I don’t say this lightly, but she’s a self-serving bitch.”

  “How many committee members were there?” Britta’s voice shakes.

  Once I tell her, I can’t take it back. She’ll know what a man-whore I was as a teenager. The kind of man-whore who became exponentially more practiced as an adult. “Twelve. I started on her ‘project’ in mid-May. By August, I made sure she was not only on the committee but she was the chair.”

  “And you were sixteen?”

  I risk another glance at Britta. She’s gone ghost white, pale lips pressed together. “Yeah. I think what hurt most was that my mom knew I wanted more than empty sex. I found the courage to tell her that’s what I hated about being with AnnaBeth. But…”

  “She set you up to have more of it.” Britta shakes her head, looking dumbfounded and numb. “A lot more.”

  “A summer full, yes. Dad found out, of course. He clapped me on the back and congratulated me on my ‘hot dozen hussies.’ His words, not mine. Maxon had already escaped to college. Harlow probably knew something was up, but I did my best to shield her from everything ugly.” I sigh, wishing like hell I was at the end of the story.

  “I don’t think she knows,” Britta assures.

  One small blessing. If my sister knew, she would look at me like a monster. The same way I fear Britta is going to look at me by the time I finish.

  “The only one of the committee members I was with more than the few times it took me to ‘convince’ them to give my mom a seat at the table was Julia. She came across as nice. She actually talked to me. She seemed to care.”

  “So you didn’t mow her lawn?”

  “I did. That was my cover story for all of them. A free mow, some conversation, a smile, an invite inside for a drink since it was so hot outside and…” I was between their legs in under thirty minutes.

  “Didn’t any of them care that you were just a kid?”

  “I was six feet tall, one sixty, with a full beard. A kid wasn’t what they saw. And these were people used to getting their way at someone else’s expense.”

  “You should have called the police.”

  Probably. “I was too ashamed. I couldn’t imagine going to school and everyone finding out I had cried rape.” Life in high school was already vicious enough, constantly fighting off guys who were already jealous of all the pussy I was getting. All I wanted to do was crawl out of my skin. “Julia came in the middle of the bunch. By then, the whispers had started. She knew why I was knocking on her door. Unlike the others, she didn’t make me go through the motions. She just sat me down and asked me how I was doing. How I felt. I don’t know what possessed me, but I told her that I wasn’t very happy.” I drag in a deep breath and let it out in a shudder. This part is going to be harder. “I told her I was lonely. She said she was lonely, too.”

  “She connected with you emotionally. You thought she understood you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But she still used you?”

  “Absolutely.” I scrub a hand across my face and stand. “I thought I was in love with her and that she was the one person I could trust, who would always be on my side. She dumped me just before Halloween, laughing like it was a great joke because she had already replaced me. You know the rest.”

  “Griff…” Britta stands, easing beside me, compassion welling in her blue eyes.

  “Don’t cry for me, angel. I’ve cried enough.” It’s hard for me to admit that. “It’s over. And I admit I’ve let it fuck me up for far too long. When I met you, my first thought was that you were an angel.” A little smile creeps across my face.

  “I thought you were the most handsome devil,” she whispers. “Your brother warned me…”

  “But you didn’t listen. He warned me to leave you alone, too.” I shrug. “But I couldn’t. When I first kissed you, I was sure you were too good to be true. I guess… I was afraid to let myself believe you were beautiful, inside and out. That I could trust you with my whole self until it was too late.”

  Her chin wobbles as she tries to hold in tears. I hope she doesn’t regret me for too long. What we’ve been though is gut-wrenching torture, but I wouldn’t trade my time with her for the world. She’s changed me, made me better. Maybe after this—someday—I can have a normal life. Oh, I’m still going to make my last-ditch pitch to win her. But I’m not holding my breath that she’ll say yes.

  Now that she knows how fucked up I am, why would she ever marry me?

  “Do you have any questions?” My voice almost sounds normal.

  She frowns, searches her thoughts as she holds back tears. “Now that you’ve told me, do you feel any better?”

  “Um…” How do I answer that when I feel as if I’m dying inside? “If you understand me better, I’m glad. But my adolescent shit cost me my son and the only woman I’ve ever loved. And trusted. I didn’t show it last weekend, but I do trust you, Britta. Sometimes I have to remember not to be an ass, that not everyone is out to get me. I just spent a lot of years feeling that way.” I press my lips together. Emotion clogs my chest, tightening my vocal cords. I grit my teeth to hold it back. “I know it’s good to unburden, as Keeley would say.”

  “Does she know any of this?”

  “I’ve never told a soul.”

  She looks touched that I chose her. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me.”

  I can’t imagine ever telling anyone else. “I know it’s a lot to digest.”

  “It is. But all of this helps me understand you.”

  I nod. “Then, yeah, I feel better. You got a pen?”

  Britta seems perplexed by my request when she meanders to the bar between her family room and kitchen. I follow as she produces a pen and a pad of paper.

  I set the pad down again and withdraw the document relinquishing my parental rights. With my chest buckling, I grip the pen tightly and sign my name everywhere her lawyer has laid a tape flag. My hands are shaking when I set the pen aside and leave the paper behind. “There. Now you’re free of me.”

  “Oh, god. Griff…”

  I don’t know what she’s thinking exactly, except that she’s feeling sorry for me. I don’t want her making decisions on that kind of emotion. This is the last time I’m ever going to lay my heart on the line. She’s the only woman I’ll ever do this for.

  “Shh. I’ve said everything I came to say except two things: First, if Jamie ever wants to know his father, I will welcome him with open arms. I’ll be the best dad I know how.”

  “You were wonderful with him.” I hear the tears in her voice.

  I look up to find them pouring down her face. I wipe a path dry with my thumb, more than grateful when she doesn’t flinch awa
y. “I love him. Would you tell him that for me?”

  She doesn’t answer, just dissolves into sobs that shake her entire body.

  I want to take her in my arms, soothe her, kiss her, tell her everything will be all right. But I won’t lie to her.

  “Angel… Don’t do this.” Please don’t make it harder. “I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t say that.” She lays her hand on mine and clasps our fingers together.

 

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