Beyond What is Given

by Rebecca Yarros

  “Ooh! Sam? Is Sam coming?”

  “I don’t know, Mia.”

  “Man, you’re grouchy. Not enough hospital gym time or something?” she mocked and pressed the button. “Just explain it to her. Sam will be okay.”

  I sighed. I’d actually worked out a ton while I was here. It was becoming increasingly hard to be around Grace, and the gym was the one place I could work my body and my brain to exhaustion.

  The elevator doors opened, revealing Parker lounged in one of the waiting room chairs. Damn, I’d managed not to see her the whole trip since Mom had picked us up at the airport.

  “Parker.” My jaw flexed.

  “Gray.” She flashed me a sunny smile. “How’s our girl today?”

  “On an IV drip.” I passed her, not waiting for her to get out of her seat as I headed for the parking lot.

  She raced after us, her flip-flops louder than rotor blades as she ran. “Wait up!” She clicked the “unlock” on her car, and I held out my hands for the keys. “Oh, there’s no way you’re driving my car, Gray.”

  “Well, I’m sure as hell not giving you an ounce more control over any aspect of my life, Parker. So give me the keys, or I’ll call a damn cab.”

  “Language!” Mia shouted from the backseat.

  Parker glared, but there was zero chance I was backing down on this one. “You wouldn’t pull this shit with Constance or Joey.”

  My older sisters were easily the most logical of the four. “Yeah, well, neither of them would have taken my love life into their own hands and wrecked an innocent woman because they didn’t approve.” Joey and Connie would both love Sam, I was sure of it.

  “Your love life is here, Gray. In case you forgot, Grace needs you.”

  Apparently Parker was not going to be on Team Sam.

  I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth, counting to ten. “Give me the damn keys.”

  “Lang—”

  “Oh, shut up, Mia!” Parker yelled.

  “Don’t talk to her like that. She didn’t do this, you did. You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, and you hurt Sam. You hurt me.”

  Her eyes widened. “You care about this other girl?”

  “Yes.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and she dropped the keys into my hand before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in. I adjusted the seat for my height and cranked the engine.

  Parker didn’t speak until we were crossing the bridge to Roanoke Island, and I wasn’t complaining.

  “Grace needs you.”

  She sounded like a broken record. I shook my head. “Yeah, well maybe I need Sam. Did that ever occur to you?”

  “No. It’s always been you and Grace. G-squared, the it-couple of First Flight High School. You have to give her some time—”

  I hit the brakes a little too hard at the red light. “Does this look like high school, Parker? Does it?”

  “No,” she mumbled.

  “I’ve given her five years!” And it still wasn’t long enough. “Do you think this is easy for me?” I pulled into the tiny airport and parked while Parker seethed.

  “Parker, Sam is really amazing. And Gray is like…happy around her.” Mia tried, God bless her, but I silenced her with a look in the rearview. I didn’t need her involved in my love life, either. Life would have been a hell of a lot easier with four brothers.

  “So you’re giving up on her? Are you too good now?” Parker fired back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mr. Top-of-my-class at the Citadel, big bad Army Lieutenant? Funny, I didn’t realize they let people in too stupid to read.”

  Mia sucked in her breath. “Parker.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, well, let me know when you decide to see if there’s life beyond the OBX, Parker. At least I wasn’t too scared to leave.” My feet hit the pavement. Then I dropped her keys in the empty seat, and Mia handed over my backpack.

  “I love you, Mia,” I said, squeezing her hand.

  “I love you, Gray, and I think you need to get back to Alabama and fight for Sam, because she’s phenomenal.”

  “Yeah, she is,” I agreed, then turned to where Parker sulked. Why was she so hung up on this? “Parker, I love you, no matter what. But grow up and worry more about your life than mine.”

  I shut the door on whatever protest she was going to make and made my way inside. Mia was right. Sam was phenomenal, but was she going to stay once I explained everything to her?

  I wandered into the tiny gift shop while I waited for my flight and passed a Kitty Hawk deck of cards. Josh was right, too, I needed to lay my shit out in front of her and let her decide. As terrified as I was of letting her see that I was nowhere good enough for her, she deserved the truth.

  I bought the cards.

  The gym was busy as I walked in at four thirty p.m. I’d driven like a bat out of hell to get here before her shift ended. At least here, she couldn’t run away from me.

  Her eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them as she leaned over a math book with Avery. Shit. I’d been the reason she’d been crying. Like she didn’t have enough going on already. I leaned on the counter and waited for her to notice.

  “What do you want, Grayson?” she asked, her voice tired.

  “I’m not good for you.”

  “So you keep saying.” She smiled as a high-school boy signed in.

  “That’s my cue to leave,” Avery drawled, and practically ran.

  “Sam.” I fiddled with the card in my hand.

  “What could you possibly want that couldn’t wait?”

  “You.” She sucked in her breath, and I forged ahead. “You once asked me what you did to get past the mistakes. The stuff that keeps you up at night and leaves you nauseous in the morning?”

  She nodded her head. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly an angel, right? Is she? Your Grace? Is she as perfect as you no doubt need her to be? Because, honestly, I don’t see you with an imperfect person. You’re too good for that, or I thought you were. All this time I’ve thought I was the one too damaged for you, and yet you’re the one kissing me while she’s waiting for you.”

  “Can’t you stop talking for a second?”

  Her mouth snapped shut.

  “Thank you. I told you that I understood that kind of mistake, like the one you’re running from, and yes, you ran five states away from it, don’t argue. I understood that choice because I’ve done something that I still can’t recover from.” The wariness in her eyes killed me. I wanted the trust back, the ease between us. I would forsake kissing her for the rest of my life if I could get the trust back. Yeah, you know what she tastes like now, so try and keep your hands off her, you liar.

  “What could you have possibly done that’s so bad?” she scoffed, and turned to dismiss me.

  I grabbed her wrist, careful not to bruise her skin, and put the ace of spades into her palm, face up. “I’m responsible for what happened to Grace. I killed the woman I loved.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam

  Seriously? He gave me a fucking card, declared himself a murderer, and then walked away? I pulled the e-brake in the driveway and tried to compose myself. He couldn’t have really meant it. They didn’t let murderers into the army, and he’d clearly been going to visit someone.

  And I’d bet my life that Grayson wasn’t any kind of murderer.

  I opened the door and put my keys next to his in the dish on the entry table, and then hung my purse in the hall closet. The house smelled like…steak? “Grayson?”

  “Kitchen,” he called out. Of course he was.

  “Hey,” I said softly from across the half wall.

  He pulled sweet potatoes out of the oven and then turned toward me. “Hey.”

  “Um. What are you cooking?”

  “Sunday family dinner,” he answered with a raised eyebrow like he hadn’t dropped a bombshell on me an hour and a half ago. “Wash up, it’s on the table in five.”

  “Where are Josh and Jagger?”

/>   “They made themselves scarce,” he responded with a shake of his head, like it hadn’t been his decision. “Are you scared to be alone with me now?”

  I shook my head. “Of course not. I saw two plates.”

  He exhaled and closed his eyes in obvious relief. “Right.”

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, then ran upstairs. I changed out of my work clothes, throwing on cargo capris and a soft, fitted tee. “Don’t freak out. You can do this.” Great, I was seriously pep-talking myself in the mirror.

  “You ready?” Grayson asked, holding out my chair as I came back into the dining room.

  I took a seat, and he took his on the corner next to mine. He laid out green beans, sweet potatoes heaped with marshmallows, and a succulent steak. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t given it a decent meal that wasn’t out of a processed bag since Friday. “Thank you for cooking dinner.”

  “Well, it’s Sunday. It was a little harder since nothing is quite where I left it,” he said with a half smirk that still sent a jolt through my core. My body apparently didn’t care that he had a girlfriend…or had killed her.

  “I rearranged. Want a beer?” I asked, hopping up to get to the fridge. I did. Or a shot of tequila, whatever would help me through what was going to happen next.

  “Nope. Not tonight.”

  “Well, I’m having one.” Or fourteen. Whatever. I popped the top and took my seat, digging into my food as he was.

  We ate in silence, both looking up at each other at intervals, and neither of us brave enough to say the first word. But it had to be spoken, right? You didn’t just declare yourself a murderer and then…ignore it.

  An entire steak and a beer later, I pulled the ace of spades from my pocket and put it on the table before him. “Explain.”

  He stood, took a deck of cards out of the cargo pocket on his shorts, and sat back down. “Diamonds or hearts?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Diamonds or hearts? Pick a suit.” He had them separated before him.

  “Hearts.” Because he’d stuck a knife in mine and then turned it. Hell, I think he was sitting in the actual chair where I’d basically ridden him like a prized pony.

  “Fitting,” he muttered, handing me the stack and then clearing our dishes to the sink. The bare wood of the table was instantly very intimidating.

  I had a feeling we were about to cover it with his secrets.

  “What are we doing?” I asked, my pulse skipping.

  He consumed his chair again, curling the brim of his Citadel baseball hat and leaning forward on his elbows. “I watched Jagger nearly fuck up everything he had because he was too stubborn to tell Paisley the truth from the get-go.”

  “Right. I remember.”

  “You and I…whatever we are, or could be…that won’t be us. I’m going to tell you every bad, ugly thing about me. You’re going to tell me every bad, ugly thing about you, and then we’ll decide what to do about this insane pull between us.”

  I licked my bottom lip. “Oh, you think there’s a pull between us? I thought we were just friends.”

  His gray eyes sliced through me, cutting me all the way to my soul. “Samantha, if we weren’t about to discuss our deepest secrets, I’d lay you across the table, strip those sexy little capris off your ass, and bury my tongue between your thighs. God knows I’ve thought about it enough. How’s that for friends. Really, it’s more a force of nature, but I’ll settle for you admitting that there’s a pull.”

  My mouth was suddenly dry. I was never going to look at this table the same way again. “There’s a pull,” I admitted softly.

  “Good, now that we have that established.” He took a deep breath. “Grace and I grew up together in Nags Head. Well, Owen, Grace, and I did. It was always the three of us, but she was my best friend and I was hers, and one day that flipped, and we fell in love. We’ve been together since we were fifteen.”

  I wanted to throw in a smart-ass quip about how perfect that they were high-school sweethearts, but it would be a defense mechanism, and if he was stripping his defenses for me, I owed him the same courtesy, even if it hurt like a bitch. “Okay.”

  “The summer of my senior year, we had a huge party at the beach. Everyone was there, and everyone was drunk. I’d had a couple beers, but I made sure to stop a few hours before I knew we needed to leave. I wasn’t stupid enough to chance anything with Grace, you know?”

  His eyes darted between mine, begging for understanding, but he hadn’t told me anything I needed to understand yet. I nodded. “Right.”

  “Owen got a brand new truck for graduation. This amazing Chevy, and he wouldn’t let anyone wear dirty boots inside the cab, let alone drive her. And it got late, and Grace needed to get home. I told Owen to leave it at the beach and we’d get it in the morning, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” His eyes dropped to the table, and he took a shaky breath. Grayson took off his hat and rubbed at his forehead, like the memories were physically painful. “I should have fought him harder. I should have stolen the keys, or hog-tied him and put him in the car, but I didn’t. I shook my head and said, ‘suit yourself.’ Can you believe that shit? Suit yourself.” He swallowed and then brought his eyes back to mine. “I killed Grace with those two words.”

  My stomach rolled. He deserved a happy story. Even if he’d kissed me when he belonged to her, I wanted to hear that they woke up the next morning and laughed about how drunk they’d gotten.

  “Grace and I took off for home. I drove her car, since mine was in the shop, and we got into a fight about colleges. I’d been accepted to UNC like her, and I wanted to go there, but she was pushing the Citadel. She knew I’d been accepted there, too, and how badly I wanted to go.”

  His knee started to bounce with nervous energy. “We were stopped at a light before the bridge, and when it turned green, Owen passed us driving way too fast in that goddamned truck. He cut off the oncoming traffic before jumping back into our lane, but he overcompensated.”

  His eyes went vague, and I knew he wasn’t with me anymore. He was there, on that bridge, with Grace in the car…and I didn’t want to know. But I had to.

  “He slammed into the guardrail, and I swerved. I mean, I couldn’t hit him head-on, right? We’d both be killed. Grace’s little car wouldn’t stand a chance. So I swerved, and we went through the rail, into the channel. She screamed, and we hit so hard. So hard. The airbags deployed, but my head cracked against the window, and I don’t remember anything for another couple minutes. When I came to, we had already sunk, and landed on our side. Funny, I used to think cars always landed on their tires, right? They don’t—not when there’s uneven terrain to land on. The water was what woke me. It was already up to my shoulder. Grace…she was under it. Unconscious.”

  I held my breath like it was me underwater, and reached out to hold his hand. “Grayson.”

  He ran over my whispered plea. “She had one of those crazy seat-belt cutter things, thank God. She was always so paranoid about that stuff. I cut myself free, then cut her free, but she wasn’t breathing, and the car was filling with water faster than I could think. I held her as tight as I could, and I used the glass breaker to destroy the window. God, it was cold. The pressure pushed us back into the car, and it was dark. So dark.

  “I got us out and made it to the surface, but she still wasn’t breathing. I swam us to the nearest support pillar and tried to hoist her onto it, but I didn’t have any leverage swimming, and mouth-to-mouth wasn’t working in the water.

  “By the time I got her onto the base of the pillar, my fingers were bleeding from scraping the concrete, and she was blue. I pulled myself up on top of her and did compressions…and I prayed. I prayed so hard.” His hand squeezed mine, but I knew he was still there pressing on her chest.

  “She finally sputtered out the water on reflex, but wouldn’t breathe on her own, so I did it for her until help came.”

  “How long were you down there?” I asked softly, unable to imagine wha
t that must have done to him.

  “Probably about a half hour until they got the boats out to get us. They’d sent the ambulances to the bridge, but we couldn’t get back up there. They took us to the hospital, and I fought when they tried to take her where I couldn’t go, so they sedated me.”

  “Oh, Grayson.” How much worse could this get?

  “Days, then weeks passed, and she got strong enough to come off the ventilator, but her brain swelling had already caused the damage.” He looked up at me, a shell of the man I usually knew. “She’s comatose. She’s been in a persistent vegetative coma for almost five years. She sleeps. She wakes, but she’s not…there. I killed her. I didn’t take his keys. I shouldn’t have swerved that wide. If I hadn’t passed out, I would have gotten us out before we sank. Before she drowned.”

  “This was not your fault. You did not kill her, Grayson. You were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, but you are not responsible for what Owen did.”

  “He told the police that we’d been racing, that other than his alcohol level, I was just as at fault as he was. I was never charged, but I’m pretty sure most people believe him, even my own father.”

  Silence stretched while I put it together. “You go home to sit by her bedside.”

  He nodded. “Yes. She has no chance for recovery according to the docs, but I know she’s still in there, locked away.”

  I reached over and stroked my hand down his face, cupping his cheek. He leaned into it. “And you’ve been faithful to her, haven’t you? That’s why you freaked after we kissed.”

  “There’s been no one else. I don’t let anyone in, because I don’t know how to anymore. I haven’t wanted to. What’s the point of loving someone if it hurts that much? Every second has been spent studying, exhausting myself at the gym, or home with her. There’s never been someone that I was willing to betray her for. And I know it’s not…betrayal. I’ve been through the counseling, I’ve made peace with the fact that she’s gone in all except heartbeat. But I can’t forget that last kiss, and there’s never been a woman I was willing to replace it with.” He stroked his thumb over my lower lip. “Until you.”