Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4)

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Grey: The Reconnection (Spectrum Series Book 4) Page 27

by Allison White

“I’m sorry,” I say, but he blurts it out at the same time.

  We laugh, and I gesture for him to go first. It’s the least I can do.

  “I am really sorry for yesterday,” he says with a little disappointed sigh.

  “What? You have nothing to be sorry for.” I am the one in the wrong.

  “Yes, I do, for being rude by walking out while you were talking,” he explains and takes a really deep breath, rolling his shoulders before shoving his thumbs in his jean shorts’ front pockets. “I was just really upset. I just…I really liked you, Liv.” I look away, guilty. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want us to be friends.”

  I look at him and gape for a few seconds, shocked. “I’d love that! There’s nothing more I want than fixing what I stupidly broke.” I pull on my lip, a habit I unintentionally inherited from Grey. I drop my hand and find my voice. “I—I was really selfish for what I did. I betrayed you and didn’t consider your feelings…and for that I am eternally apologetic. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I really didn’t…will you ever be able to forgive me?”

  His green eyes turn a tad dark as he licks his lips, contemplating. Then he breaks out into a grin and laughs. “Yes, I will need some time to heal. You hurt me, but please, don’t feel bad.”

  “Of course. I understand.” I nod and fight the urge to hug him. I feel tears form in my eyes, but I just tug at my bracelet and look at his cart. “So, what are you doing at the supermarket?”

  He follows my gaze and blushes. “Oh, just doing some shopping with someone.”

  “Who’s that someone?” I ask playfully, but I hope I’m not pushing our barely forming friendship.

  “Her name is Kelly; I met her a week after we, you know, broke it off.” He nervously scratches the back of his neck, and I smile forcibly.

  “That’s amazing…so is it serious?” I glance at the cart, and he shakes his head.

  “We’re not living together or anything like that, just helping out,” he explains and nods. “She’s a really sweet girl. She’s actually a lifeguard. We met on the beach while I was eating my broken feelings in an ice cream cone.”

  I rub my arm. “Whoops.”

  He chuckles. “I will heal, I promise. I’m a tough nut to crack.”

  “Well, I would love to meet her one day—she sounds nice.”

  That sounds awkward.

  “Maybe one day.” He laughs, and I blush even harder.

  “What do we have here?” a familiar voice drawls as a hand snakes around my hips.

  “Grey, so nice to see you,” Noah says with utter sarcasm, a forced smile curving his hips.

  “I wish I could say the same, but my very polite girlfriend says it’s bad to lie,” he quips back, gripping my hip possessively and kissing my hair while shooting Noah a mocking grin. I drown in his cologne and cigarette smell, but I don’t smile at the bittersweet scent. I glare at his chest then soften my expression toward Noah.

  “Right, well, I’ll see you around, Liv.” Noah nods at me.

  “Goodbye, Noah.” I smile widely at him and nod back at him.

  He casts a single uneasy glance at Grey, then turns and wheels out of the aisle.

  The minute I’m sure he’s gone, I turn and smack Grey in the chest.

  “Are you serious?” I hiss-whisper at him, since there are a few customers around us.

  “What?” He sounds and looks annoyed with me.

  “You know what.” I jab a finger at his chest, and he rolls his eyes like I’m a pestering fly.

  “I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” he booms down at me through gritted teeth.

  “Then how about you figure out what I’m talking about while you check the food out. I’ll be waiting in the car,” I snap, fed up with his childish behavior. I quickly dig his car keys out of his jacket pocket and storm away before he can stop me. He can be such an asshole sometimes!

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I do not utter a word to Grey the entire way back home, because I have nothing to say to him. I know how he can be a cruel asshole, but he didn’t have to be one back at the grocery store. He knows I chose him, everyone knows that. I am with him now; he has me. He doesn’t need to show me off or rub anything in Noah’s face. He’s already hurt enough as it is. But of course, asshole Grey just had to come out and emphasize why everyone is so hesitant with me being with him. Because, when he wants, he can flip a switch and turn into a vile man who does the most hurtful things.

  I’d rather he did so with me and not toward Noah. As horrible as it sounds, I’m used to it. And I don’t want my friend, who is on the fence with me already, to be the brunt of Grey’s less attractive side. As much as I love him as a person, that side will always be ready to strike, and I will always despise it. Unfortunately, it makes up about eighty-percent of him. Like I said, I’m used to it. I send Noah a text apologizing, and he replies saying it’s okay. I wish it was, but it most definitely is not.

  When the car pulls up in front of the house, I grab the house keys on the dash and climb out of the car.

  “Wait, Liv! Aren’t you going to help?” he asks.

  I continue toward the house, ignoring him. He wants to be an asshole, he can bring the things inside.

  “Olivia!” he calls after me, but I don’t answer him.

  I unlock the door and am entering when my arm is gripped, and I am spun around.

  “Why are you being like this?” he asks, more like barks, through grinding teeth. His anger is coming alive; I can see the sparks in his deadly eyes. But I don’t give a damn. I have adapted to the burns.

  I rip my arm from his hand and push him away from me.

  “Do not touch me.”

  “Since when are you resistant to my touch?” he scoffs as a nefarious smirk slices into his dimpled cheeks. I gasp at the underlying sharpness beyond his words. Is he really implying that I am so easy when it comes to him?

  “Since you’ve started acting like a barbaric ass, that’s when!” I shout, not caring if anyone hears me. His face falters a little like I chipped his ego. Good. He freaking deserves it. I spin around on my heels and enter the house.

  “Why the fuck are you being like this?” The barrier that shields his anger finally shatters as he chases after me into the kitchen.

  “Why do you think, Grey?” I don’t face him as I open the fridge. He is very smart; I know he can figure it out without much trouble.

  “I don’t fucking know. That’s why I am asking!” he exclaims in a duh tone.

  I shift my glare at him. “Get the groceries and think.” I slam the fridge door closed and ignore his eyes following me as I round the island and sit on a stool. He looks at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “Get the damn groceries, Grey!”

  He opens his mouth to scream something at me, but I give him a pointed look that says try me, I dare you. He backs down instead and grunts before storming out of the house, muttering Spanish curses I full well understand, but I don’t say anything. Not to him directly. I spew my own curses in other languages he wouldn’t even begin to comprehend. I rub my face and wonder how I fell in love with someone like him, but then I remember how charming and sweet he can be and—ugh.

  A few minutes later, all the groceries are on the kitchen counters. It’s quiet as I put away everything while he just sits on the island, staring at me with narrowed eyes. I think I just need to cool down and maybe I will adapt to yet another one of his asshole tendencies. But all of that is thrown out of the window when he grabs my wrist, stopping me from picking up a loaf of bread next to him.

  “Let go of me, Grey!” I snap and try to pull my hand away, but his strength is like a steel—unmoving.

  “Not until you tell me what I did wrong,” he says, and I groan.

  “You showed me off in front of Noah, shoving it in his face that I broke his heart just to be with you—that. That is what you did. And I do not need your help in making him hate me, trust me,” I explain, and his grip loosens. I grab the loaf and pla
ce it in the pantry, gripping the knob on the door. I take deep breaths as he scoffs and begins talking.

  “Seriously? What the hell is wrong with showing off my girl?” he questions.

  My stomach flutters at his words, but I ignore them and face him.

  “He’s already hurt. You didn’t need to do that,” I say, and he rolls his eyes as he hops off the counter and strides over to me. “I’m serious, Grey. I…I hurt him. And he really liked me. I could have liked him too, but I was—”

  “Still in love with me?” he finishes my sentence, but in the wrong way I intended. “I’m sorry you were so hung up over the big bad wolf. I should have backed off and let you like the pretty charming boy, right?” His words are seared with malice, and it makes my mouth grow very dry. “I’m not stopping you.” He backs away, and I notice how flushed he was against me. “Go ahead and get your prince. Don’t let me stop you.”

  “You are such a piece of shit. You know that, right?” I stand up straight against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. “I love you, Grey. I have proved that to you so many times, it’s actually insane. I do not love him—was that not clear enough when I went behind his back and had sex with you? Was it not clear when I left him and went to Venezuela with you to comfort you? If you seriously don’t think I love you, or at least care for you more than I do myself…then you’re stupider than I thought you were.”

  “I know you love me, Olivia,” he says slowly.

  “Stop calling me that!” I shout.

  “Why the hell not? It’s your name, isn’t it?” he snaps back, hands thrown up and waving around theatrically. He’s trying to piss me off, he really is!

  “Because it sounds like you’re angry at me for no reason. Because you only call me Liv and it makes me feel like I am in the wrong when, as usual, it’s you!” I point an accusing finger at him, and he twists his face at it.

  He bellows, throwing his head back. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you want to bring up the past?” I shiver at what he’s referring to, my one biggest mistake I have ever made in my life. One that still haunts me within, down deep.

  I take a step back, feeling my heart drop to my stomach. “I don’t know, shall we?” I slither out, referring to his more than fucked-up past.

  He glares at me, and I do the same right back.

  Finally, he rolls his eyes and mutters, “Honestly, I am fucking done with this.” I watch him walk to the door, and I rush after him.

  “Done with what?” I question him.

  He closes the door after he opens it and looks back at me, anger simmering under his skin. “Done with you acting like you love the guy.”

  “I just told you I don’t!” Seriously, has he lost his mind?

  “There is nothing wrong with me showing you off, Olivia!” he shouts.

  This asshole, I just told him how I felt about him using my full name. It hits me in the gut every single time.

  “When you do it to hurt my friend, yes, there is.” I cross my arms, and he punches the wall. I gasp and jump back when he stalks over to me and towers over me.

  “Your ex-boyfriend, you mean,” he gripes out.

  “He was my friend first,” I point out, and he rolls his eyes. “And we were only together because I was trying to get over you.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he says as he shoves his feet in his boots.

  “Where are you going?” I sigh.

  He swings the open and tells me, “Out,” before the door slams behind him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Grey

  I drive to the nearest bar but don’t drink anything. Partially because if I do and go home, Liv will just be more pissed, and also because I want to have a clear mind. I want to keep this malignant anger bubbling in my chest and tickling my mouth. I don’t understand what is so wrong with showing off what that fucker never deserved and could never have. Okay, that sounds a little like Liv is nothing more than my possession, but in a really, really fucked-up way, she is. I mean, fuck! She is mine. No other guy can touch or have her.

  I love her, though. I truly do. More than myself, actually. I just—I hate that some other guy had her. She hasn’t told me the specifics of what went down with them, but just thinking of the possibility that they kissed—or worse, fucked—it makes me see bloody red, which is what I would love to be coated on my fists. I hate that I took so fucking long to come to my senses. I realized I wanted her back too fucking late, because the asshole probably got as close to her as I have.

  And I fucking hate the thought of it. His hands on her hips that I love to see squirm out of her innocent-looking white panties. His mouth swallowing her heavenly moans. Her scratching his chest, his stomach, his back as he fucks her. I can just fucking see her wiping me from her memory as she enjoyed the light pouring from that douchebag into her. His member lodged into her tight puss—fuck!

  I throw a glass near me against the wall of liquor and grip my hair.

  “What the fuck is your problem!” someone screams at me. I can hear people shuffling around and a phone being dialed. The bartender’s probably calling the police to complain about me. I hear snippets, like drunk fuck and broke my shit and stiff as a god damn board. He thinks I’m crazy. A drunk. Crazy, maybe. But definitely not drunk.

  I rub my temples and mumble that I’m fine, I’m sober, and I did not mean to lose my shit. I try to reason with the man, but my vision is fucked up and I can hear trumpets blasting in my ears. Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m losing it. I need—I can’t control my thoughts. They are all scrambling and squeezing my brain. I’m having a fucking meltdown, in a bar, and the cops are on their way. This will all go down perfectly fucking fine.

  “Fuck my life,” I grumble as I press my palms into my eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Liv

  I hadn’t been able to sleep since he stormed out of the house. I let him have his space and texted him to be careful and not to drink or take any drugs since he’s driving. I don’t know what I would do if he got hurt because of me. The stupid fight I brought up. Grey’s an asshole. I’ve known that since the second he opened his mouth. I’ve just about forgot and gave up on the fight as the hours ticked and stopped at one in the morning.

  At that moment, I just wanted him home. Safe and sound.

  When my phone finally rang after hours of silence, I felt my heart drop. My mind raced with pessimistic thoughts. I hadn’t heard from him all day, and then he was just calling me up out of the blue? But then I began to think the worst possible thing: what if it’s the hospital or a cop to inform me the worst has happened…? It didn’t help when I flipped my phone over and saw an unknown number. At almost two in the morning. After my hot-headed, angry boyfriend stalked out of the house.

  I burst into tears on the spot and thought the worst had come. All because I couldn’t just think about what he was going through. I know about his disorder. And I know how territorial it can make him, plus he hates Noah. I should be used to his crude remarks and asshole ways. I didn’t care about any of it if he has hurt himself.

  I scrambled to answer the phone and let out a huge breath of relief when the person on the other line revealed themselves to be an automated device for the police department. I was ecstatic because he was behind bars, safe, and not injured or dead. I know how he craves alcohol when his anger flares. I would take him being jailed over staying in the morgue any and every day.

  My heart unclutched from the little ball it formed into, and I left the house in a messy ponytail, one of his shirts, and a pair of shorts. I looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter. I took a cab to the station and prepared for the worst, money-wise and charge-wise. I’m sure he has a lot of strikes against him, considering how just last month I bailed him out of this very station. I was a nervous wreck as I stood in a short line to reach the woman in the front. I mentally prepared myself to be read a list of the charges and his intoxication while driving. Oh, the damage he could have done. Both to himself and others
.

  Tears stung in my eyes.

  “Next,” the woman calls.

  I walk up to her and lick my lips nervously before saying, “I’m here for Grey Wyler.”

  She nodded with a lackluster look, typing his name in her computer. “He was picked up for damaging a bar by the name Lucky Joe’s.”

  “Oh no…was he intoxicated or anything?” I ask anxiously, pulling my lip.

  She glances at the screen and shakes her head no. “Sober,” she answers, and I don’t hold back my sigh. She gives me a look. “Bail is two-fifty.”

  I nod. “Thank you.” I give her a tight-lipped smile and walk over to the processing desk. I sit down and wait for a few minutes until it is my turn. I quickly pay and, while I wait for the transaction and paperwork to be handled, I ask to be taken back like last time. But the man tells me Grey doesn’t want to see me.

  My stomach drops.

  “What?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “What do you mean?” I ask the man. That doesn’t make any sense.

  He shrugs. “Don’t know what to tell you.”

  I want to demand him to take me back there, but I know it won’t be any use. Grey doesn’t want to see me for some strange reason. I slump in my seat and pull my feet into the chair. I wait for who knows how long. I almost doze off a few times as the exhaustion finally catches up and hits me. But I force myself to stay up. I just want this stupid fighting over with. I want to see his uninjured face and kiss it until the thought of his cold skin goes away.

  “Let’s go,” a familiar rough voice grumbles.

  I jump to my feet and follow the black blur moving past the glass doors.

  “Grey, wait up,” I call after him as we walk over to his car they must have brought in too. He ignores me and gets in. I go in after him, and he instantly turns on the radio and revs the engine. I groan and fumble with the seatbelt as he swivels out of the parking lot. “Will you please talk to me?”

 

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