Chapter Twenty-Four
“I am going to kill her!” Grey roars as he shoots to his feet. I grimace and clutch the hem of his black shirt, pulling him back in his seat. I have just told him about the argument with my mother and then the slap. I was more hesitant about the latter because he’s sorry there’s a rift between her and me. But to be honest, it isn’t all his fault. It’s hers for thinking she can mold me into whatever her insane mind desires and my realization that maybe it isn’t what I want.
“You are not going to kill her,” I mumble, pressing the ice pack he gave me to my cheek. It stings, and I grimace, but I know it will stop the swelling. He watches with crazy eyes, teeth grinding like a madman. Oh God.
“Oh, yes I will.” He nods frantically. “She can’t get away with hitting her child! My fucking girl!” My heart squeezes at his words “my girl,” but it isn’t the best time to point it out.
“There’s nothing we can do, Grey,” I tell him. I’m nineteen years old, an adult. It’s not like she can get arrested for slapping me with no witnesses or have Child Services called on her. I’m not a child anymore. But this doesn’t register in him, because he widens his eyes before jumping to his feet again.
“There’s something I can do,” he says, gripping his hair. “I have connections, we can—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” I point a finger at him, and he groans before plopping back onto the couch beside me. I am not cool with the idea of him being in the gang. I definitely am not okay with the idea of him using said gang connections to kill my mother.
He rubs his eyes. “I can’t let anyone get away with hurting my girl.”
“It’s okay…” I shake my head, closing my eyes to barricade the incoming tears.
I had seen this coming, but I couldn’t not tell him. Especially after haven broken down into tears the moment he opened the front door. I tried to tell him that I was okay, because I knew he would want to take vengeance. But I can’t let that happen, not when it is my mother. Though, at the moment, and for a long while, she hasn’t felt like one. I wish I could change her and insert a compassionate mother chip in her coding because then I wouldn’t have to deal with this, her slapping me for loving a boy who could very well be the one, as cheesy as it sounds. I just wish she could understand.
He grabs me and pulls me into his arms, pressing his lips to my forehead. “No one gets away with hurting you, princesa. No one.”
“Please do not send a hitman on my mother,” I say with a pathetic little sigh that sounds like a laugh. I swallow the dry lump in my throat. My voice breaks like a hiccup, and I clutch his shoulders for stability.
“Shhh…” he coos, rubbing my back soothingly. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him. I let out a sigh and listen to him whisper sweet nothings in his native tongue. This is him. This is the man I fell in love with. The sweet guy who can be caring and hold me with so much love it nearly drives me insane but glues all my broken pieces back together. He is my superglue and the only man who makes me feel like…me.
“Don’t let go,” I plead in the most broken voice.
“Never, princesa.” He kisses my hair for a moment, and I sigh in contentment, feeling my entire body relax around him, around my home. “Never…”
***
“I am going to kill her!” Charlotte threatens with the same vigor as Grey. “I am going to whack her across the face with this—”
“You need to calm—oh my God, you really do have a hammer in your purse!” I gasp at the heavy metal weapon she wields out of her shoulder bag like it’s a sword. I can’t believe—I thought she was kidding this entire time!
“I’ll swing on the bitch. You know I will.” She points it at me with crazy eyes.
“There’s no need for that—put that away before someone calls the cops,” I hiss, nervously looking around.
“I’ll swing at the snitch too, and then the cop for coming to the snitch’s rescue,” she says, and I groan, pulling and rubbing my lower lip in frustration. I love how she so quickly comes to my rescue and defends me, even if she is threatening to smack people with her purse-hammer. But I do not love the idea of her being behind bars because of me.
“I say we order an assassin, like John Wick, Jason Bourne, something like that,” Jaimie suggests with the same wide eyes as she comes up to the food court table.
“I think we should plant a bomb in the house,” Julia says, plopping down and shoving curly fries inside her mouth. I glare at her, and she holds her hands up defensively, chewing loudly. “We’d evacuate the house of your dad and her mom, of course.” She gestures to Charlotte, who nods and picks up a few fries from Julia’s plate, stuffing her face with them.
“Um, why does she have a hammer and where can I get one?” Jaimie says, pointing a finger at Charlotte, fascination in her brown eyes.
“Right, this is the SX plus model,” Charlotte begins to describe the large hammer, running her hand along it like it’s a brand-new car model. “Super sturdy and a nice weight, easy to hold—”
“Stop!” I shout, making them all stare at me. “Please, can you all just stop?”
“No, we cannot stop,” Jaimie says. “We care about you, and what your mother did is not acceptable—”
“But you can’t plan to murder her.” It’s the most insane thing I have ever heard.
“We’re not actually serious, Liv,” she tries to defend them.
“Oh, really?” I point to Charlotte, who is breathing on the top, then rubbing it with her palm like it’s her most prized possession. We all shift our attention to her as she hums with a sadistic smile as she cleans her choice of weapon. I finally clear my throat to get her attention, and she looks around sheepishly.
“What? Oh, yeah. Totally not going to murder her. Psssh.” She laughs nervously then clamps her lips in a thin line.
“Has she kicked you guys out?” I ask, nervously biting my lip.
“No, but I am not staying there if you aren’t going to be there,” Charlotte says, finally putting her hammer away. “We’re staying at a friend’s place for the rest of the summer.” Ugh, I feel horrible. They came here for a good time and for us to have fun. But now they’re being forced to stay somewhere else because of my insane mother. This was not the plan, and it makes me sick.
My hands fly to my face, and I rub to try and relieve some tension. “I am so sorry, guys. I didn’t even think about where you guys would go after, and I…” I begin to shake as tears bubble in my eyes. “I should have just backed down and let her send me to my room or something. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you guys—”
“Hey,” Julia says, bringing my hands down, and Jaimie wipes a tear away. “This is not your fault. Neither you nor anyone else ever thought she’d slap you. If we did, we would have been there and dared her to try and go through us to get to you.”
I cry even harder at her surprisingly sweet words. Her icy walls she once held up have completely melted away, showing her true compassionate side.
“Oh God, I just made it worse.” She nervously laughs and pulls away, looking to her girlfriend for help. “How do you make it stop?”
“We can change the subject,” Jaimie answers and narrows her eyes sharply. “To the fact that you jetted off to a different country without letting us know.”
“Oh, geez,” I groan. I also saw this coming. “I couldn’t stick around for you guys to…judge me the way Mason did. I understand where Noah was coming from, but I was still hurt. And when Mason came in…” I shake my head and try my best to hold back the tears. “I was scared of your reactions. But I really am sorry. I could have answered your calls or something. But I was also trying to be there for Grey and—”
Jaimie envelops me in a hug out of nowhere, rubbing my back. “It’s okay, if you’re happy. Are you happy?” She pulls back as a tear runs down my flushed cheek that has a little redness from the assault. I nod, feeling my shoulders shake. She pulls me back in and gently rocks me side to side.
“Then we’re all good with it.”
I hug her even tighter as I realize how much I love her and the girls.
“Thank you, Jaimie.” I pull back, and she waves a dismissive hand.
“Now let’s change the subject again: what went down with you and Grey and how did it happen?”
“And don’t you dare hold back the juicy details,” Charlotte warns, peeking the hammer above her purse.
“I’ll get us some more fries,” Julia announces with a smile.
***
“Can I join you?” Grey asks as I am stepping in the shower. He’s already shirtless and is taking off his basketball shorts. “Let me rephrase: scoot the fuck over.” His smile is mischievous. I blush and look ahead.
“Sure.” I laugh but do as I’m told, stepping forward so he has some room behind me. I grab my loofah and squirt some vanilla-scented body wash on it. I can feel him settle in behind me. I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side when he places a kiss on my neck. A sigh tumbles out of my lips as I rub my chest and he holds my waist.
“Let me do the honors,” he mumbles into my wet skin, and I nod in anticipation. I hand him the pink loofah, and he takes over. He glides the fluffy thing over my stomach and rubs against my hip bones. He proceeds to go lower and lower and lower…I bite my lip and he laughs. I heat up and open my eyes and look to the side. He’s bouncing his eyebrows at me. “Turn,” he whispers darkly, making me shiver and moan lightly. His erection presses into my stomach, and I move around just to tease him. His eyes darken, and his lips turn up. “Don’t test me when I have the power.”
“Fine,” I groan as I face him and lay my face in his broad chest. He laughs, and I smile against his warm, inky skin. I bite my lip as he rubs my butt with his hands. My eyes flutter closed on their own as I am wrapped in his warmth and the tingles he never fails to make me feel when he presses against me like this. “This feels good,” I admit, wrapping my arms around his torso.
“Does it?” he teases, and I pinch his butt. He jumps, and I laugh loudly. He pinches mine, and I do the same thing. I pull my head back and stick my tongue out at him. He leans down and lays his over mine, kissing me gently. My stomach feels like it’s on cloud nine as I kiss him slowly, cupping his ever-growing stubble. Contrary to our last experiences in a situation like this, it doesn’t evolve into sex. It’s just a slow, sweet, passionate kiss that makes us both smile and laugh at the end of it.
We get out twenty minutes later. He’s in the living room waiting for our pizza to come, watching some UFC show while he waits. I get ready in a pair of workout shorts and a gray tank top. But then I decide to wear one of his shirts without a bra since it’s more comfortable that way. I am brushing out my stubborn curly hair when I give up and decide to put it up. Only problem is, I don’t have anything to put it up with. I think I left my hair supplies back in Venezuela.
“Grey?” I call out from the doorway. “Do you have a rubber band?”
“Yeah, in the left table next to the bed,” he calls back.
“Thanks!”
His response is inaudible as he shouts at the TV. I giggle as I rush over to the bed and jump on it. I crawl over to the left table and throw it open. There are a bunch of junk things in here. I quickly glance around the messy room and promise myself to clean it up later. I turn back to the little table and push some things around.
“Wait!” he shouts, and the rest is drowned out by the loud TV.
“It’s fine, I’ll find it my—” I stop talking when my eyes land on a scary object. I gasp and reel back on the bed, scared to touch it.
He skids to a stop and rubs his hand over his mouth. “Uh, did you find it?” His voice is shaky as he rubs the back of his neck.
“You mean the huge gun?” I hiss in a low voice, afraid someone like the FBI is listening in.
“Calm down, we’re not bugged,” he says with a little eye roll, reading my mind.
“We may as well be.” I point at the silver gun and whisper, “You have a ginormous gun next to your bed.”
“It’s not the best neighborhood,” he says ridiculously.
“There’s a flamingo in the front yard,” I exclaim, throwing my hands around. “Where did you get it and why do you have one?”
“I have a permit for it, so—” he tries to say.
“Where…and why?” My tone is firmer now.
He stares at me like he’s debating whether or not to tell me. Finally, he breaks and huffs out, “Dean gave a lot to members, and it’s to keep myself safe.”
My heart drops.
“Safe? There is no safe with that thing!” I shout.
“I am in a fucking gang. Of course there is no safe! It’s why I need it to protect myself in case—”
I burst into tears and fall on my butt on the bed.
“Why are you crying?” He sounds agitated, but I feel the bed shift as he crawls over to me. He wraps his long arms around me and gently rubs my side. “Hmmm? Why are you crying?”
“Because there’s a chance you can get hurt, or arrested, or—or worse,” I sob and clutch his shirt. I don’t want him to be in this freaking gang because it will only end in a horrible way. And I just want the best for him. “I want you to get out,” I plead, sniffling and cupping his face. “P-please get out. I don’t want you in it.”
His brows furrow and his tongue peeks to the side. “I’m already in too deep.” I cry even harder because the probability of this ending badly is very high, and I just can’t lose him when I am so close to him being mine. “But I promise to be safe. I won’t be killed or anything.”
“You can’t promise me that.” I pull away from him. He’s so stupid being in it.
“Yes, I can.” He pulls me back and presses his lips to my hairline. “I will not screw up for you, princesa. Just…just please don’t leave me. I promise you won’t even notice I’m in it. I won’t get caught or anything.” I groan some more and clutch his forearms, and he sighs. “Just…just let me hold you now and we’ll figure the rest out later, yeah?”
We are already figuring out what we are, but this is so much more important because it deals with his life.
I nod and let him kiss my tear-stained cheek. “Fine. But I swear to God, if anything happens to you—” I turn to him and look in his eyes seriously. “I will kill Dean.”
“Okay, mi pequeña princesa mala, okay…” he says quietly with a crooked smile. (My little bad-ass princess.)
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grey
The week has gone by painfully slow, but sickly sweet. Painfully slow because I have been pushing myself to train harder, without the help within the gym. I haven’t been there since David dropped the nuke-bomb that he’s moving here to Miami. I’m not even angry that he’s staying—I’m lying, I am fucking furious. It’s the fact that he didn’t tell me beforehand. I would surely tell him if I was moving to a whole new state with my fiancée, which I will never have, but you get the point. He just treated me as if I was some kind of kid he couldn’t talk to. Not like I was his fucking brother. And it pissed me off. I am still pissed off.
I push harder as I run, my thoughts nearly drowned out by the rock music blasting through my earbuds. I weave through people and am gunning for the outskirts of town. It begins to drizzle, but it doesn’t stop me for one second. If anything, it makes me run even faster, causing my calves to scream at me to stop. But I do not ease up. My phone keeps buzzing the entire time I run, but I don’t answer because I know exactly who it is. And he can fuck off. An hour later, I arrive at a crowded park that’s damn near on the other side of town.
I hunch over and take long, deep breaths. I can barely hear the loud music over my heartbeat and panting. “Fuck,” I curse as I stretch my aching back and stand. I thread my fingers through my sweaty hair and plop onto a bench. There’s a beach nearby, and the air is warm. This place is so freaking peaceful. Sometimes I wonder how something can look so beautiful yet be filled with so many betraying assholes, David being one
of them. Dean being another. The city may look alluring and sweet, but up close it holds dangerous feuding gangs, monopolies, strippers, and everything your mama would warn you about.
My pocket buzzes with an incoming text. I groan and rub my face. I have ignored him all week long; he won’t let this go on any further. I hastily pull out my phone and swipe it open. As I expected, it is Dean. He wants me down at The Spot at ten. That’s all. I know he has something shifty up his shady-ass sleeve. Knowing him, dodging his advances, and him saying he wants you for a simple run-down and not cussing you out means you’re going to regret avoiding him. But I can handle him. He’s put me through shit I can never repeat, not even in my head.
I am yanked out of my thoughts of the menacing gang leader by a particular ringtone I have set for Liv. It’s some stupid color song by a girl named Hashley? I don’t know. She stole my phone and set it along with a photo, saying a plain ringtone and a default background was both disrespectful and just plain mean. Apparently, this song is so me…? The girl can be weird when she wants to be.
“Finally wake up?” I tease. “Gosh, we did so much not-fucking, I must have tired you out.”
“Do not tease me, mister, or there will be a much longer time of no-effing,” she shoots back, and I can just see that little cute smile of hers and narrowed eyes that always appear when she wants to appear threatening. In reality, she’s as intimidating as a bunny wielding a carrot around like it’s a sword. Honestly, I just can’t get over the “no-effing.” I’ve heard her curse, so why the censoring?
I laugh then sigh longingly. “What’s up, cute-butt?”
She growls her little growl, and I laugh a little more. “I’m hungry. Do you mind getting something on your way back?”
“Sure,” I say and begin to head back in the direction of the house. I didn’t notice it before, but I’m pretty starved myself. “What do you want?” I’m going to treat myself to some greasy burgers because I fucking deserve it.”
Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4) Page 19