Saviour Boy (The All American Boy Series)

by S. L. Sterling

  “Yes, he was upset because he had been after me to take him to meet the family. The weekend we were supposed to go, I ended up having to work. He got angry. That would be the best way to describe it.”

  “Angry because you had to work?”

  “Yeah, he had been messaging me that afternoon, and I was in meeting after meeting. It really bothered him I didn’t answer him. He claimed I was ignoring him.”

  “I see. You think that is normal behaviour?”

  I shook my head and closed the dresser drawer. “I’m not making excuses, but it only happened once. Perhaps he was having a bad day.” I shrugged.

  “Perhaps, or perhaps he is an obsessive and controlling ass. Exactly how involved were the two of you?” He stopped what he was doing, and his eyes skimmed my body, an uncomfortable silence falling between us.

  I could feel my face flush at his question. “We weren’t, if that is what you are asking.”

  Grant smiled shyly and walked over to the bedroom doorway, looking up at the ceiling in the hallway and holding up a camera to see if he could get a good angle.

  “So you are sure he doesn’t have a key?”

  “I’m positive. I never gave him one.”

  “Do you think he took anything—credit or debit cards, or even statements?”

  “Why would he take those?”

  “Did he ever mention things you had purchased? Things that you might not have told him?”

  I shook my head. There was nothing I could remember him bringing up. “No, nothing like that.”

  “I want you to go over your statements and highlight anything that you don’t recognize.

  “I can. I just don’t see what difference that is going to make.”

  “Just please do as I ask.”

  “Fine. You don’t think that three cameras are overkill in a 1200 square foot apartment?”

  Grant shrugged, “Maybe, but one can never be too safe Becs.”

  I smiled at his answer and I wanted to ask him more questions, but he busied himself hanging the last camera, and I continued with the laundry. He spent the evening on his laptop, signing into the camera’s and checking the view of each of them, while I sat on the couch watching TV.

  I yawned and stretched once the show I’d been watching was over and shut the TV off. “Well, I think I am off to bed. I have to work in the morning. You going to be okay out here?”

  Grant looked up from the laptop and nodded. “Yep, I’ll be good.”

  “Did you want a pillow and blankets?”

  “Nah, I probably won’t sleep much. If I do ,it will be from that chair right there,” he said, pointing to the armchair he had moved and now sat in the corner.

  “You can’t possibly sleep in that chair. Let me grab you some blankets and a pillow.”

  “Becs, I hate to break it to you, but I have slept in way worse places than this chair. I’ll be fine.” I watched Grant stand and steady himself before he walked over to me. He leaned in and placed a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering there just long enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.” He turned around and went and sat back down, paying no attention to the fact that I was still standing there watching him.

  Grant

  I’d pulled the blinds and shut the lights off hours ago. I sat in the armchair, behind the computer, my eyes heavy, as I struggled to stay awake. When I felt my head do another bob, I decided that perhaps I should try to sleep. I stood up and stretched, my shoulder screaming in agony. I pulled my shirt off over my head, dropping it to the floor beside my chair. I undid my belt, dropping my jeans to the floor, and I pulled the untouched duffle bag towards me and pulled out a pair of shorts, slipping them on.

  Becca had been asleep for almost three hours. I sat down in the oversized armchair, my legs raised on the ottoman that sat in front of me. My leg ached, so did my head, and I reached for my bottle of medication, downing two pills.

  I closed my eyes. I had finally figured out where the best placement for this chair was. It had only taken me an hour, but from where I sat, I could see from every vantage point. I could see the front entryway, the hallway, and I sat beside the sliding door in the living room. If he came in that entrance, it would be his worst mistake. There was no way he could sneak up on me.

  I took another drink of water and rested my head back on the chair. My neck was also killing me. It had been a while since I had slept sitting up, and it was proving to be a little more difficult than I once remembered. I stretched, hoping to ease some tightness and pain that I was feeling, but to no avail. I was kicking myself for being so stubborn. I should have let Becca get me pillows and blankets before she had gone off to sleep.

  Once I had gotten comfortable and the pain medication kicked in, I could feel myself drifting off when I heard something. I sat up and listened hard. I could hear a tiny whimper coming from her bedroom. I got up out of the chair to see that Becca was okay. Right before they discharged me from the hospital, I remembered she had mentioned she’d been having bad dreams in her letters, and I remembered wanting to comfort her. There were many things I remembered wanting to do to her from the other side of the world, yet now that she stood here in front of me, I could barely get up the courage to meet her for a lunch or dinner date.

  I hobbled down the hall and stopped just outside her bedroom. She had left the door ajar, and I placed my hand on the door and carefully pushed it open. She lay in bed, wrapped in blankets, thrashing about, whimpering in her sleep. I knew all about bad dreams, and I wondered what it was she was dreaming about.

  I watched her for a minute through the cracked door and was about to turn around when I heard what sounded like crying.

  “Bec?” I whispered.

  Another tiny whimper escaped her, and she moved her arm about, trying to send away whatever was in her dream.

  “Bec?” I whispered louder this time, trying to wake her but not scare her.

  “No, Jace...” she murmured and began crying again.

  I pushed the door open enough to accommodate my enormous frame and walked over to the opposite side of the bed. Should I wake her? Should I leave her to fight through the demons in her dream? I didn’t know. Instead, I stood there trying to decide what to do. I knew she was going to freak if I touched her. Hell she would freak if she woke up and found me standing over top of her as well. Either way she was going to freak. I took in a deep breath and kneeled on the bed.

  “Becca,” I said, touching her shoulder and lightly shaking her. “Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

  I turned on the bedside light and was just about to turn back to face her when she surprised me by screaming. I went to grab her and was taken aback by the sharp sting of a slap across my face.

  Becca was sitting up, hair all disheveled, breathing hard, staring at me with large, round eyes. Immediately, her hands went to cover her mouth.

  “My God, Grant, I am so sorry. I—”

  “It’s all right. I deserve it. I heard you thrashing about and wanted to come and check on you. I should have probably just let you sleep, but instead I woke you. It’s my fault. I deserved that.”

  “You scared me,” Becca said, running her hand through her hair, her eyes watery with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my cheek.

  “I was dreaming about—”

  “Jace, I know. You said his name. Are you okay?”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and said nothing for a little while. She just sat there huddled in a ball, twirling her fingers in the sheets. I felt oddly out of place being in her bedroom with her, but I didn’t want to move in case she wanted to talk. I watched as her eyes travelled over my bare chest before meeting my eyes.

  “Could you get me some water?”

  “Sure.”

  Within minutes, I had returned with a glass of water and set it on her bedside table. She was still in the same position she had been when I had left. I walked back around and sat
down on the opposite side of the bed, this time leaning my back against the headboard.

  She took a sip of water and placed the glass back down on the table. Once again, she ran her fingers through her soft-looking hair. “I can’t get the nightmare out of my mind.”

  I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had been plagued with nightmares myself after I had returned from the Middle East. They were always the same—trapped in the MRAP, everyone dead or injured, hearing the footsteps on the gravel, waiting to die. I closed my eyes and put myself in her place. “You just need to close your eyes and breathe,” I whispered, trying to calm her with the tone of my voice.

  She did as I suggested and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing, but the longer she sat there, the more the rapid breathing returned. “I can’t, Grant. I can’t get that dream out of my mind. Would you do me a favour?”

  “Anything,” I said, my eyes closed.

  “Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she questioned. “I just want to be held for a little while.”

  I looked over at her. She sat there looking straight ahead, almost as if she were afraid to look at me for fear I would say no. There was no way I would say no. Over the past few years, there had been many times I had wanted to hold her. I knew I probably shouldn’t—I was here as a favor to her brother, to do a job—but she was practically begging me.

  Swallowing hard, I raised my arm. “Come here.,” I whispered as I shuffled my body down in the bed. In a matter of seconds, she was at my side. I had barely gotten comfortable before her head rested on my shoulder and her left leg swung over mine, causing me to jump as she hit the site I’d had surgery on.

  “Oh my God, did I hurt you?”

  I reached under the blankets, grabbing her leg and readjusting it. “Just my bad leg is all. A couple spots are still sensitive.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” She looked up at me with forgiveness in her eyes.

  “I know you didn’t mean to. It’s okay now. Just relax and close your eyes,” I said, holding her tightly against me, my other hand removing the hair from her face.

  When I felt her breathing finally slow, I reached up and turned off the light and allowed myself to relax back in the bed. She snuggled against me, and I pulled the blankets up around her shoulders. Her hand rested on my chest, and I glanced down to see her peering up at me.

  “Do you remember when we used to write back and forth?” she asked.

  “Of course, I remember. Your letters got me through my years in the Middle East. They also got me through my time in the hospital too.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  She turned her eyes from me and lay there. “If I told you I used to dream of this, of you holding me like this, what would you say?”

  I swallowed hard and looked down to see her peering up at me with those blue eyes of hers. I had dreamed so long of lying with her like this as well, but I never thought she felt the same. The longer I looked into those blue eyes of hers, the more I wanted her. I wanted to tell her exactly how I felt, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, I tilted my head, leaned into her, and brushed my lips ever so gently against hers, my hand cupping her cheek.

  Becca

  I yawned. It was only five in the morning, and I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wrapped in a large, plush towel. I glanced at my reflection, at the dark lines surrounding my eyes. I could hear banging as Grant moved around the living room, finishing his workout I had interrupted this morning when I came out of the bedroom. He had been down on the floor, doing crunches—one hundred to be exact—and he had barely looked in my direction when he rolled over on the floor to plank. I stumbled into the bathroom with nothing more than a murmured good morning, even though I would have preferred to watch.

  I wanted to crawl back into bed and never get up again after last night. Instead, I climbed in the shower, allowing the hot water to run over me.

  The heat of the water wrapped around me like a protective blanket, the same way I had felt last night with Grant’s arms around me. How safe I had felt with his powerful hands roaming my body as he kissed me hard, pulling me closer to him. Instantly, I had been lost in his kiss and allowed my body to respond. I sat up and threw my leg over his lap, straddling him, and as I lowered myself onto him, I felt his hard shaft between my legs. I ground down on him, a gruff moan escaping his lips. I went to repeat the action, and that was when he stopped kissing me. In one swift movement, he lifted me off him, got up out of the bed mumbling something about what had gone on between us was an absolute mistake, and then he slammed the bedroom door behind him, leaving me alone.

  I blinked away the water that had run into my eyes. Perhaps I was losing my touch, I thought. I felt so rejected last night, so hurt that he didn’t want to be with me, but that feeling had passed and now I felt angry. I had wanted to follow him last night. Hell, I had still wanted to ask him this morning what was wrong, what I had done to make him leave, what it was about me he found so repulsive, but I didn’t. Last night I sunk down under the covers and cried myself to sleep. Nothing had changed this morning either. I had run into the bathroom instead of asking him. Not only was I confused, but I was also very embarrassed.

  I shut the water off and climbed out of the shower. I needed to focus. I needed to shut my mind off from all the noise that was Grant. He was here as a favor to my brother, to protect me while he was away—not for any other reason. I searched through my phone and played one of my playlists while I did my hair and makeup and put on my uniform. Then I wandered into the living room to find an array of tools and manuals sprawled out everywhere. Grant barely looked at me before he got up off the floor and made his way to the bathroom.

  I ignored him and went to the kitchen where I now sat enjoying my Cosmo magazine with my bowl of cereal and coffee. I was in the middle of an article about the dangers of dating a friend when Grant appeared in the doorway. He leaned up against the doorframe and looked at me.

  “So, we have some rules to cover,” he grunted.

  “Excuse me? Rules?”

  “Yes, rules.”

  “My God, you sound just like Chris,” I said, slamming my magazine down on the table and getting up to put my bowl in the sink.

  “Well, you’re right. I might sound like him, but to be honest, I really don’t care. First rule, I will drive you to work and pick you up.”

  I spun around, looking at him like he was crazy. “Why? What for? I have a perfectly fine vehicle down in the parking lot outside.”

  “Yes, you are right, you do. It’s also a vehicle that Jace knows, so if he is following you and you have your vehicle, he will know right where you are. My vehicle, however, he does not know.”

  “Fine.” I pouted. “Whatever you want. Have it your way,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast?” he said, looking in the sink at my half-eaten cereal as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

  I shrugged. “No, I’m not all that hungry, if you must know. Now what is next?”

  “Becs you should eat.”

  “Yes, Dad, I know I should eat. Now what is next?” I said, getting annoyed.

  “There will be no going out to lunch with the girls at work or leaving the property at work for any reason. You are never to be alone.”

  I chuckled. “Um, I hate to break it to you, but sometimes I have to leave the office, you know. I do a daily postal run, and sometimes I have to pick something up from a store.”

  “You are a manager, correct?”

  I sighed. “What does my position have to do with it?”

  “Becs, just answer me.” He leaned up against the fridge and smirked.

  “Yes, I’m a manager.”

  “Well, managers are supposed to delegate, aren’t they? You can have an employee go.” Grant shrugged.

  I rolled my eyes. “What about the bathroom? Can I at least go to the bathroom on my own or do I need a supervi
sor for that as well?” I said, dropping another spoon of sugar into my coffee.

  “Becca, this isn’t funny.”

  “Believe me, I know it isn’t funny. None of this is funny, but I didn’t think you would babysit me.”

  “I’m not, but if I am going to do what is needed then I need to know where you are at all times. Now, if I am going to take you to work and make it to work on time myself, we need to get going.”

  “Fine,” I bit out, reluctantly pouring my hot coffee into a travel mug and placing my favorite mug in the sink. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” I questioned as I grabbed my purse, laptop, and coat.

  “I will get breakfast after I drop you off. Let’s go.”

  Grant didn’t wait. He pulled the door open and made his way down the hall. I rushed to lock my apartment door and followed him. I had just about caught up to him when my cell phone rang. I signaled to Grant to wait for a minute while I dug through my purse, but he ignored me and kept walking.

  “Answer it in the car,” he bit out.

  “What if it’s work?”

  “Well, if it’s work, they can wait for two minutes while you get into the car, or better yet, they can leave a message.”

  I clenched my jaw tightly, biting back the words I wanted to yell at him. I ran to catch up with Grant, who was now standing inside the elevator waiting impatiently for me. The ride down to the main floor of my building was quiet. He didn’t look my way, he made no small talk, he kept his eyes trained ahead, and when the door opened, he bolted from the elevator.

  I followed him to his truck, dumping my things on the floor in the front seat before climbing in. I had barely set my travel mug in the cup holder when he barked, “Buckle up,” as he put his truck into reverse.

  “God, you are so bossy,” I grumbled, reaching for my belt and pulling it across my chest. I reached for my purse and quickly dug out my cell phone.

  Grant didn’t respond. Instead he reversed out of the parking spot and started heading to the Moscato Resort and Spa. I finally found my cell phone in the bottom of my purse and noticed I had four messages waiting for me. I quickly keyed in my code and listened.