“I’ve missed you,” he admits, voice low and slightly raspy.
He’s been smoking. I spot a cigarette sticking out of his jean’s pockets, and I lift an eyebrow.
“Apparently.” I glance at the cancer stick in his pocket. “You’d think after losing someone to cancer and my finding out my father has it, you’d stop.” I pull away, glaring at him.
He frowns, pulls out the stick, and breaks it into two. I watch as black tobacco falls to the ground.
“I quit,” he says.
“You’re cleaning that up,” I tell him, then turn on my heels.
He pulls me back and tilts my head back. “What’s wrong?” He sounds genuinely confused and kind of hurt. I can’t even try to be mad at him. He cares about me too much.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been so emotional lately. You know, with the diagnosis of my father, and caring for Julia has been kind of tiring, and—” I sigh.
“Hey.” He cups my face and leans down to whisper, “If this is too much for you, you should come home. I’m sure Jaimie will understand.”
“No,” I say firmly. “She needs me. They both do. And I need a little distraction for myself, anyway.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to drive yourself insane.” He moves his hands to my waist, squeezes a little for emphasis. “You can’t move as fast as before. Remember? One lung. Limited tolerance.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I snap. He frowns, and I instantly regret it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be snappy—”
“It’s okay. I get it. You’re going through a lot…” he trails off.
“What is it?” I ask, pouting. There’s something he isn’t saying.
“I just wanted to be the one to console you,” he murmurs, hanging his head.
“I’m sorry. I’ll come home for a couple days, if you want me to…” I say truthfully. Guilt clambers up my spine. I haven’t forgotten about him. I think about him all the time, but I really do need the distraction, the space. Otherwise, I know I would implode.
“No, no. You can stay here. I’ll be fine.” He waves a hand, but I don’t think he’s telling the truth. I can see the sadness, the loneliness in his eyes. He may put up a façade of being this big, tough man devoid of real emotions. But that’s all he is around me. Emotions. Love. Vulnerability. He’s everything he doesn’t want to be. But I will not suppress that side of him. He deserves to feel too.
“Grey,” I warn. “I will come home.”
“Stay. You just said you needed this.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure Jaimie would appreciate a little alone time with her girl. I’ll come home after classes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Plus, I’m sure you’re reaching limit with Holly talking to you about cribs and baby names,” I joke, and he grunts, frustrated.
“She’s driving me fucking insane! It’s like she doesn’t get enough pillow talk with David, so she comes crawling into my ear next. Like a fucking parasite.”
“Hey. She’s just excited. You can’t blame her for that,” I remind him.
He just rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Couldn’t give a fuck. She’s annoying.”
I laugh and instantly feel bad. “How about this? When I come home, I’ll have her relay any excited baby news to me, so you can rest your tired ears.”
He grips my face and kisses me on the lips. “This is why I love you.”
“Shut up.” I push against him, but I really want to pull him closer. He gets the message and kisses me again. This time, much longer. Enough for my toes to curl and my stomach to rumble. I will never ever, ever get tired of him. Of his lips pressed against mine. Moving so slowly and warm and—
“Beep, beep out of the way, motherfuckers.” Julia crashes into Grey’s leg.
“Fuck!” he cries out before he topples over, his phone slipping out of his pocket and sliding down the hall. She nearly runs it over with her wheelchair.
“I said beep, beep, did I not?” she sneers over her shoulder as she pushes herself down the hall.
“Babe, how many times have I told you: it’s not nice to run people over…” Jaimie scolds.
Laughing, I walk over to his phone and pick it up. It buzzes with a text. Before I can catch a glimpse, it’s ripped out of my hands and stuffed back into his pocket. But I did catch the name—Alejandro García. His face has lost its warming glow and smiles and is now hard and passive.
“Let’s go. I got shit to do after I drop you off,” he says before brushing past me, storming out of the apartment.
What was that?
“What’s up his ass?” Jaimie asks as she wheels the chair beside the couch, sitting beside her girlfriend.
“I have no idea…” I stare at the door, thinking of all the things that could be wrong, but I come up with a big whooping nothing. “Anyway, I’ll be out of your guys’ hair today. Grey needs me, but I will be coming over every day.”
“No need to,” Jaimie says as I grab my phone from the couch. “I have everything down pat. A van’ll come for us for appointments since it’s such a bitch getting her in without further injuring her leg or getting complaint after complaint—”
“Oh, I’m sorry my broken leg getting hit on fucking metal repeatedly is too much of an inconvenience for you,” Julia hisses.
Jaimie ignores her glare and grins up at me. “Be with your man. You’ve done enough.”
“Still coming by every day,” I promise, kissing her cheek.
“Back off my woman!” Julia sneers, rage flaring in her dark eyes.
Jaimie and I laugh as I hold up my hands defensively, backing up.
“See you guys later.” I wave them goodbye before slipping out of the apartment.
***
“Hey, Olivia, wait up!” a voice screams behind me as I exit my last class of the day, psychology. I look over my shoulder, tug at my beanie, and smile as I spot Nate through the throng of students dying to escape class. They all scatter to escape the snow falling from the sky.
“Hey, Nate, what’s up?” I turn to him as he screeches to a halt.
“You forgot this.” He holds out the novel I’m analyzing in English lit—Lolita. An art of a book, but a major conflict piece in class. I was reading it after completing our quiz. Normally you leave after you finish, but it’s starting to snow, and I didn’t want to wait outside for Grey to pick me up. I would have driven myself, but I just want to be closer to him. I miss him a lot.
“Oh, thank you so much.” I graciously accept the book and place it in my backpack.
“No problem. I would have been a dick to let you leave without giving it back to you,” he says.
“No. You shouldn’t have felt like you had to. You know, after what my boyfriend did to you…” I blush as guilt settles in my stomach. I still feel horrible for that. I had no intention of him being hurt. But how was it my fault Grey has anger issues, and no boy is supposed to be in a mile radius near me?
“That’s fine. Honestly,” he assures me, but I still bite my lip, worried he’s lying. He seems to notice because he bursts into laughter and waves a hand. “I’m serious. I’ve dealt with a drunk asshole boyfriend before. They tend to linger at parties more than you’d think. Like they all belong in the same gang of assholes or something.” He laughs.
Something about what he just said strikes a chord in me.
“Do you know anything about an Alejandro García?” I ask, gripping my bag’s straps. Maybe I’m just paranoid about Grey’s past creeping into our lives again. Maybe he’s just a friend.
His eyes widen, and he blinks rapidly. “You mean the mob boss? He and his family are kind of famous in New York. Apparently, they’re responsible for a bunch of deaths in the city.”
My stomach drops, and my blood runs cold.
“W-what?”
A loud car honking behind me scares me.
I whip around and find Grey getting out of his car, hands in fists and face flushed red with anger a
s he charges toward me and Nate.
You have got to be kidding me.
“He was just giving me a book I left in class. Come on. Thank you, Nate,” I throw over my shoulder, leaving him nervously waving at me before walking off.
In the car, Grey grips the wheel so tightly, I’m afraid his white knuckles will fall off.
“I don’t like him. Don’t want him around you,” he says through grinding teeth.
I look at him through my peripheral vision, scared to look at him, to face what I was just told. He’s interacting with a mob boss. A freaking mob boss. He’s upgraded from being involved with the gang, to a fucking mob boss!
But I can’t confront him. Something about this makes me freeze up, like a deer knowing a big bad panther is circling it. And if I try to be brave, I will be pounced on and eaten alive.
I think I’m going to vomit.
“Liv, are you listening to me?” he says, annoyed, before taking my chin and forcing me to look into his churning black eyes. The hatred and fire that swirls in them makes me even more sick. Slowly, he runs his thumb against my bottom lip. His eyes stare at them…then back into my eyes, searing my soul with each passing second.
“I would kill for you. You know that, right?” he says, voice low and raspy and filled with promise.
I swallow thickly, and all I can do is nod.
He breaks out into a charming smile, then kisses my lips. “Good. I have a fight tonight, and I want you to come along.”
Again, all I can do is nod as I feel our world come crashing down.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
For the rest of the day, I am numb with fear, confusion, and hatred. I am afraid for multiple reasons. Grey is involved with a mob boss who, based on my research, is the most dangerous man in New York. His family, more specifically his father, was notorious for their crimes and deadly organization. From gambling to prostitution rings to murder, his mob ring is wanted on more than one hundred counts, more than I can even name.
All I can think is: why is Grey getting involved with him, this mob? After what happened with the last gang he left, I thought he was done with this life of criminal enterprises. But all he’s done is one up himself and trade numbers with a known criminal. The result of this “friendship” literally makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t even stomach swallowing air, much less food or water. I just can’t stop thinking about how this will end. With his life, mine, or worse—both of ours…?
Then the hatred settles in me, and I find myself wanting to slap him, knocking some sense into him. What good does he think will come from this? He is being idiotic for absolutely no reason. I know he has his disorder and craves violence and complications and danger, but he should know the difference between wrong and right. Common sense and foolish shit. This, him involving himself in whatever mess he has now, is the definition of stupid shit.
I just want to shake him straight. Shake out his desire to befriend vile leeches with big guns and murderous intent. I want him to leave that life for good. I thought I was successful when I took a bullet. But obviously, that wasn’t effective enough. He just has to play with fate again. But fate is a bitch he should not be testing. She will not hesitate to rip him away from me or vice versa. She will make sure nothing but danger and destruction comes from this. And I don’t want that to happen.
“Hey, what are you thinking about over there?” Grey’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I look up from my hands in my lap and eye his playful expression. Black eyes glinting with anticipation, body clad in his shorts and black tape and gloves basically shaking with energy just waiting to be released. He’s sporting a cocky smile. If only he knew how wracked I am with worry and fear, crippling anxiety that stems from his involvement with a fucking mob. Forget gang. This is the real thing.
“You okay? I thought you’d wish me good luck with kisses. That’s the only reason you’re here. You’re my personal groupie,” he jokes.
I just stare at him, trying to understand him and his fucked-up mind. Why can’t he just want me and happiness and peace? Why does he need to twist himself in bad stuff all the time? Right now, I don’t even want him to fight. Not until he gets this “Alejandro—mob” thing squared away. Give the man whatever he owes and back away.
“Liv.” His playful expression plummets when I don’t reply. “What’s wrong?” He sits beside me. His hand reaches for my hair to play with, but I twist away and take a seat back in the leather couch. He frowns deeply, hurt flashing across his eyes.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I say, voice low and firm, serious. It dares him to mess around.
I am too pissed off and betrayed to confront him. I want him to reveal what he has been doing. God, I should have stayed with him these past few weeks. But how was I supposed to know he’d get involved with a crazy mob boss? I just wanted to help my sick friend. Didn’t think I’d have to deal with worrying if I’ll be shot again or worse.
He looks confused, shaking his head. “I don’t understand.”
I scoot closer to him, looking him square in the eyes. “You’d tell me if you were involved in bad things, right?”
His jaw tightens, and his biceps flex as he takes my hands. The answer swirls in his dark, dark eyes. They’re mocking me as he opens his mouth and spews bullshit. They lock themselves with an icy cold exterior shield as his mouth drops with charisma and warmth.
“Of course,” he lies.
I lock my jaw but quickly soften it. “Are you sure?” Let’s try this again. Let’s see if he’ll actually tell the truth or just lie some more. I plead for him to tell me the truth, to assure me that everything will be okay, but he shuts me out and adds some spark to his lying smile.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, princess,” he says, hand reaching up. I bow my head out of pure disappointment. I melt into his touch, let him push stray hair behind my ears. “You are my everything.”
Sure, I want to say. That’s why you’ve possibly joined a fucking mob. Because you didn’t learn the first time. Do you want a reminder of what happened the last time you were the member of an illegal establishment? Wanna see my fucking bullet wound and the scar from losing my lung because of it?
“I love you,” he clarifies.
I give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding.
“Why aren’t you saying it back?” He leans forward, and it takes everything in me not to slap him and scream in his face for being so freaking stupid. “Are you all right?” he whispers, eyes dark and lying, scanning my face.
I nod again. “I’m perfect.” Not.
He narrows his eyes. “I know you, Liv. I know when you’re lying.”
“That’s so crazy, because I have the same talent for you.” I grin from ear to ear, clutching the leather beneath. I can’t believe he isn’t just telling me the truth. After all we’ve been through, you would think he’d tell me everything to save us from another disaster. Does he not just want me and nothing else? It really fucking hurts that he’s doing this to himself—to me—again.
Face screwed up in confusion, he begins to speak when the door to the green room opens.
“Grey, it’s time,” a pudgy man with a headset and clipboard announces.
“You should go,” I tell Grey, looking into his eyes. Telling him “screw you” with a look, he looks hurt and confused.
“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” He tries to hold my hands, but I stand up and step away from him. Stomach tumbling like a storm pushing through big, thick gray clouds, I walk out of the room. I can’t even be next to him right now.
“Liv! Where are you going?” he calls after me.
I pick up my speed, swiping away tears away from my eyes. I break through a door that leads to an aisle leading to the ring. People turn to me and start clapping. Big bright smiles and red faces from screaming and cheering. Colorful strobe lights dance across the hot air. My mouth feels dry, my stomach and heart too heavy for my body. I think I may be having a panic attack.
Muffled screams of my name behind me pushes me out of my head and makes me move. I run down the aisle, branching off into the audience. I flash my VIP necklace, and a man in a suit leads me to my seat in the front row. I gulp down the thick hot air, but it does nothing to calm my crazy beating heart.
I want to leave, but I let that damned bastard drive us here. And Jaimie can’t leave Julia by herself, and Lily and Matthew are out of town, and David and Holly are on a date, and there is no way I am taking the bus at this time of night. Especially not in this neighborhood. So I am forced to sit here and watch him fight and screw himself for the second time. I can only pray that this time no one gets shot.
I feel numb, unaware of my surroundings until Grey is introduced. I am unmoving, quiet as he runs down the aisle. He scans the crowd for me, ignoring the girls practically throwing themselves at him past the guards holding them back. But I duck down in my chair. I don’t want to see him. I feel like I’m going to throw up. He makes me feel that way.
Blood. Bone-cracking. Black gloves in a blur. The fight goes by in a blur, all two hours of it. And I remember nothing. I just sat there, staring at his charm, basking in how simple everything was before we broke up last year. Which is so funny, because back then, I thought everything was so damn complicated. But no. Right now, he is involved in a mob somehow; otherwise he wouldn’t have that man’s phone number. Have him calling him like they’re friends.
“Liv,” he screams behind me as I walk out of the glass building.
“What?” I whirl around, and he walks up to me. Face bloody and cut, hands taped and bandaged, clothes soaking and bloody against his body. My broken, stupid, bloody man. He loves violence a little too much. It’s never made me so sick before. But now…now I can barely stomach the sight of him.
I turn around.
He grabs my hand and pulls me close. I shake my head no and take a stumbling step back. Hurt flashes across his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this? Did I—did I do something wrong?”
Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6) Page 21