“Yes, Sherlock Holmes. He called me, and I ignored his ass,” I admit, and she smiles a little. Her little, “Fuck yes! I am incredibly smart and solved another case of Grey Wyler!” I can’t even help but match her ghost of a smile. I nudge her a little, and she reads my mind and blushes.
“Hello, this is…” a person answers the phone, and I tell them to wait for a second.
“This is the company that owns the building. Mind giving me a minute?” I really want her to go out there and tell that asshole to leave.
She sighs, scanning me again. “Grey—”
“Yes, I would like to report a shitty employee of yours, Lance Fisher,” I answer the operator, nudging Liv. She rolls her eyes and reluctantly walks out of the room. I sigh into the phone and rub my face. She can perfectly read my mind but can’t understand how hurt I was when I found out my best friend, more like my brother, the only family I had that didn’t hate or lock me out of my own home, treated me like I meant nothing to him at all. I trusted him more than I had trusted anyone in my life. Before him, I was a monster who loved no one and had nothing. But because of him, I found my life’s calling and found peace. Love.
“Hello?” The woman sounds irritated.
“Yeah, Lance, your piece of shit landlord…” I go on to report that he’s been letting God knows who up to my apartment without real identification or authority from myself or Liv. The fucker could have been letting up fucking bums or thieves up here and I didn’t know about it. What if he let some psychopath up here because they lie and say they’re my long-lost cousin or some shit? I’d not only kill that fucker, but also Lance. What would my girl do with me in prison? Hmmm?
“Lance Fisher? He’s still there?” she asks with concern after I’ve finished snitching like the biggest bitch there ever was.
“Yes. Why?”
“He has Alzheimer’s. He was let go last month.” I hear shuffling and then a “shit.” “Yeah, he’s got some mental issues. It’s here on his file.”
I jump to my feet. “What the fuck! You’re telling me that fucker is insane, and he’s in charge of the entire building?” He probably has tea parties with stray cats in ballerina costumes or some shit, and he has keys to every apartment and power?
“Yeah, our bad.” She chuckles nervously.
I roll my eyes and make a fist. “Send someone over here and escort his ass to the looney bin. I don’t want him in this building anymore. Got it? And send someone new, someone who will, preferably, not let any and everybody up in my house.”
She apologizes rapidly and promises to send the new landlord over. Apparently, they thought someone new had come to take his place, but that person never arrived. Is it crazy to think Lance the fucker ate him? Murdered him, possibly? Nah, Lance is a big motherfucker. I’m going with eating him.
I shudder and fall back onto the bed, rubbing my face. There’s still one problem to deal with. I think it’s still in my home. Like a fucking entity. And no matter how many times I tell it to leave us alone or burn herbs or some shit, it just won’t go.
I storm out of the room, fully intending on telling the fucker to get out, throw him out with my own hands, but I stop when I hear crying. And it isn’t Liv’s cry. It’s David’s…I only heard it once, a long time ago, when he and Holly split up for a month. He had admitted that he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to commit, and she told him that was her goal and that, if he couldn’t settle down with her, she couldn’t be with him. My chest hurts when Liv pops up in my head. She wants the biggest commitments, to settle down with fucking kids. Something I have never nor will ever want. Only difference between them and us is Liv would never leave me…right?
Fuck, don’t think about that right now, I tell myself before I fall into that hole of self-doubt and fear.
“I just want to turn back the clock, you know?” he mumbles, sniffling. “Tell him about the move.”
“Why didn’t you in the first place?” Liv asks in that soothing, soft voice of hers.
I sneak a peek. She’s rubbing his shoulder, him hunched over and rubbing his face. I lean back before they can see me and debate whether or not I should listen any further. I would get the answers I’ve been too damn stubborn to listen to. I’ve just been too scared to hear the truth instead of the simple reason I’ve come up with: I’m easy to leave.
“Because I knew he’d act like this,” he says, and I growl internally.
Fucker.
“But he has a good reason to,” he adds.
Huh?
“Before you, he would fall so hard for girls, even though he wanted to appear tough and untouchable. He was easy to like a girl and latch onto her. I don’t know if it’s because of his disorder or what, but he’d just…latch. They’d always leave him, though, after they got what they wanted. That got him every single time, so he built up this wall to protect his heart.” He takes a heavy, crackling sigh. “That wall came down for Rose, though.” He pauses, and I know Liv’s clamming up. “Sorry. Anyway, he loved her so much…that’s not the point. When that came to a tragic end, the wall came back up.
“He never had a good relationship with his father. He’d do hardcore drugs, fuck for a sport, fight—everything he possibly could to ruin his life, and his father hated him for it. For throwing his life away. He got even worse but always wanted his father to approve. And when he died…his mother turned her back on him, turned him into a pariah. Blaming him for his father’s death, saying he stressed him out so much, he finally had enough and had a heart attack.”
He pauses and whispers, “He’s never felt loved, because everyone kept shitting on him, and he burrowed into this cocoon of hurt and self-destruction. He never knew that there could be light, hope for a better life. He grew to think everyone and everything was shit and would just keep fucking him over and hating him for his mind. I never thought he’d find someone to pull him out of that dark place. So I thank you, Olivia. You saved him when he didn’t think he deserved saving. You were there when he felt everyone should and would abandon him…you’re his savior.”
I hear Liv’s sniffling and wipe away some stupid tears from my eyes.
Stupid tears.
“I love him so much, David. I hate that he’s pushed you away, that you had to hide something so monumental, something that should have been shared between you two. He thinks of you two as brothers, you know. I don’t want you two to fight any longer. It’s gone on too long, and I just know he missed you, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it.” She laughs, and he chuckles. I smile softly, glancing at the two. Both light up like beacons of hope and everything good.
I look away before I can be blinded.
“Are you going to hide in the shadows like a monster…or you going to come into the light?” David says, loud enough for me to hear. I hear the smirk in his voice.
Asshole.
I hesitantly push off the wall and walk into the open space.
“How’d you know I was there?” I ask quietly.
“You breathe like a fucking dragon.” He laughs, standing up.
I roll my eyes as Liv giggles behind her hand. She looks at me, caught, and clears her throat and stands.
“I’ll leave you two alone…” she says.
“No need to,” I say, and she looks at me, confused. As does David.
Ugh. They can both read me like a fucking textbook. Why not now? Why do I have to say what’s on my mind?
“I…I guess I forgive you.” I kick at the floor, head hung to avoid their beaming eyes.
David launches his long ape arms around me, squeezing me in a hug.
“Bitch, much?” I joke in a tone of disgust.
“Shut up, bitch, and hug me back.” He shakes his head and laughs.
Smiling, I slowly wrap my arms around him and let out a relieved sigh as my shoulders feel a hell of a lot lighter. “I…you know.” Missed you.
“I know, me too.” He rubs my back. I smile a crooked smile and nod. I pat his back awkwardly; I never k
now how to hug. But he doesn’t seem to care, because he hugs me enough for the both of us.
He was always such a nice motherfucker.
I lock eyes with Liv, who is smiling like the fucking sun. Radiant. Bright. And all mine. I wink at her, and she blushes and looks at us with adoration. I close my eyes and pat David’s back some more.
Chaper Forty-Seven
Liv
“…you know what I mean?” Jaimie’s voice fades.
“Yeah, totally,” I say blindly, laughing under my breath.
“Hey, lovebird, my girlfriend’s asking a life or death question. So pay attention.” Julia kicks my thigh. I yelp in pain and sit up in attention.
“Sorry.” I avoid Julia’s death glare and look up at her girlfriend’s outfit choices. One of them is trendy looking, low cut and hot pink with a shiny black belt. The other is a black blazer with a ruffle blue blouse and tight pants. I rub my thighs together, just imagining slipping into the pants. They look like a torture device used to squeeze information out of a captured spy.
“Which should I wear to meet with Jean De Luc?” she whines impatiently.
“The blazer and blouse,” I quickly tell her before she explodes. “It’s more professional.”
“You’re right,” she agrees and throws the dress on the orange chair shaped like a hand. “If someone said I’d be taking fashion advice from you back when we first met…woo!” she whistles, and Julia snickers. I gape, deeply offended, even if she’s joking. But she really isn’t, so I’m offended even more.
“Hey! I didn’t have to help, you know.” I throw a licorice at her.
She catches it and tears a piece off defiantly. “Yes, you did. You’re my best friend, and Julia would have chosen the pink one.”
“The pink one shows off your killer legs! Sue me,” Julia huffs.
“Oh, I’m sorry, babe.” Jaimie gets on the fluffy pink rug of their living room and says, “Kissy?”
“Whatever,” Julia mumbles but gives her girl a sweet, long kiss on the lips.
“Oooh.” I bounce my eyebrows and wave my licorice around playfully.
“Shut up!” Jaimie blushes and tosses a chocolate ball at me.
I laugh and lay back on the embroidered pillow of their faces Jaimie had custom made. The thing is creepy but kind of cute and really soft. I look back at my phone and laugh.
“What are you laughing at so obnoxiously?” Julia asks.
“Nothing,” I say, look at my phone, and laugh again.
“Nothing my fat ass.” Jaimie disregards my lie and snatches my phone out of my hand. I blush as she looks at the screen, cracking up in laughter like someone told her Beyoncé wasn’t the best entertainer of our time. She shows Julia, who ends up wheezing like a seal.
“Okay, I think that’s enough.” I grab my phone back and sit up, curling around the face pillow.
“Why is he sending you those pictures?” Jaimie asks as she wipes away tears from laughing so much. Joke’s on her, she’s messing up her makeup. “Bam.” She taps my forehead, and I whack her hand away.
“Because he’s cute,” I mumble with heated cheeks.
“Sure. Grey Wyler and cute totally belongs in a sentence.” Julia winks and chuckles.
“Shut up,” I mumble.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I’m sorry we laugh. We’re just not used to Grey being so…cute,” Jaimie apologizes and crawls over to me and pecks my nose.
“I’m getting more wine.” I stand up and leave the two laughing and talking quietly. I blush as red as the red wine I pour into the tall wine glass with pink and gold trims and a rose-like carved base. The wine is crisp and sweet on my tongue. This is surprisingly good cheap wine bought from the liquor store across the street.
Those two were laughing hyenas because of pictures Grey sent. They weren’t dirty or anything, just a little silly. Pictures of him “choking” himself with a pair of silk ties, him showing off shiny dress shoes like he’s a foot model, just to name a few. I smile at how happy he looks as he blows me a kiss through the picture. I look around to make sure the girls aren’t coming into the kitchen and send a kiss back via picture. He sends heart-eyes emojis, and I laugh and blush so much, my entire body just feels pink.
“Are we going back to study, or are you going to send pictures to your boyfriend all night?”
I jump, and my phone nearly falls. “Jaimie, don’t scare me like that!”
She just waves a hand and leans over the counter to bop me on my nose. “Get back in here and teach me this mess, because I don’t understand one word of the shit I’m reading.” She shakes her head like she’s disappointed in the coursework. I just laugh and follow her into the living room.
***
I decide to leave their place two hours later. I didn’t want it to be too late for me to take the bus on my way back without the natural paranoia women get traveling through the dark. It’s a messed-up world today. But I would be able to use Grey’s moves he taught me on anyone that tries to give me a hard time. I jolt slightly as the bus hauls through a yellow light, then makes a shaky right turn. I frown as the chubby man with mustard on his breath crushes me into the window but stay silent. He looks like he’s been having a bad day. The tear stains on his Star Wars shirt tells the story of a cashier telling him all of his favorite comics have been sold out.
The foreign smells of beer and faint whiff of unkempt hygiene make me want to give in and get the car I spotted and claimed earlier this week. I would be driving in it right now if it weren’t for Grey negotiating with the man. He wanted the price to be a few hundred dollars lower considering a few minor issues like the scratches and not-so-safe tires. But the man, Gary, wouldn’t budge. But now that I’m squished like a bug against the window with the scent of horrid body odor burning my nostril hairs, I don’t mind those couple hundred dollars.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I get off a few stops over. I am getting my car. Now.
Pockets much lighter a few hours later, I am driving home in my brand-new used car. I could have gotten a new one, but I don’t want one. My father always told me your first car should be used because you’re still getting used to driving and will run into accidents. After I’ve grown accustomed to driving and am comfortable, I’ll get a newer model. But for now, this is good. Better than good, this is excellent.
But then the paranoia of the tires kicks in, and I spend an extra hour or so getting new tires put on.
I finally get home half an hour later and sigh in relief. I smile at the strawberry scent filling the car because of the car-freshener. I flick the strawberry-shaped card and giggle, leaning back and gripping the leather. I think I’m in love…no. I know I’m in love. I giggle again in glee of freedom beneath my fingers and get out of the car. I feel ultimately proud of myself for getting all I did done, by myself.
“I’m amazing.” I throw my keys and try to catch it to be cool, but it falls to the ground. “Maybe not that amazing,” I murmur, blushing as I scoop it up.
When I get to the apartment, I toe off my sneakers and text Grey that I’ve made it home. He should be back from shopping with David and catching up any minute. What shall I do as I wait for him to come home? I look around and take a step forward, almost tripping over a black baseball cap on the floor. Ugh. Grey. He’s always throwing things around without a second thought. He will never stop; no amount of lecturing will stop his nasty habit. Groaning, I pick it up and place it on the coat rack inside the foyer. I guess I can clean to pass the time.
An hour later, I am exhausted. I’ve swept, Swiffered, wiped down and up, picked clothes off the floor, made beds, cleaned the bathroom. I deserve an award. The Lord only knows Grey would never survive without me. He’d drown in his filth before he knew it.
Thinking I deserved it, I make a cup of lavender tea. I drink my mug of the sweet, hot tea, settling on the couch with a blanket. I reach into my backpack after leaning it against the coffee table and uncover my pair of reading glasses from a pouch. I slip
them onto my face, take out the copy of How to Kill a Mockingbird Grey got me for last Christmas, and play Beethoven from my phone. I read for a long time until it becomes boring.
I dial up Matthew.
“Hello?” his cheery voice answers the phone.
I smile. “Hey, what are you up to tonight?” Although it’s Friday, I know he’ll either be hanging out with his cat, Mickey, or playing Scramble with Friends, AKA me.
“Oh, just hanging out at some club named The Grind with Delilah.” He sighs like it’s no big deal.
I sit up quickly, my book falling. I place it on the coffee table next to my empty mug. “No way! You asked her out!”
“Yep! I’m actually on my way to meet her right now.” He sounds so excited, I am so happy for him. And very, very proud. He’s been such a wimp, I never thought he’d actually ask her out. And, as much as it sounds bad, I’m surprised she said yes. Just because he can be sort of a…a nerd. Not that it’s a bad thing! Just…very, very proud.
“Well, okay. I’ll leave you to it,” I say.
“Okay, I’ll tell you how it goes tomorrow. Coffee at The Grove?” he inquires. He’s talking about this hipster coffee shop we discovered.
“I’ll tell Linda to reserve our seats,” I joke about a friendly cashier at the shop.
He laughs. “You know our spot. Grab it before it’s taken!”
I laugh so hard, I clutch my stomach. “Focus on driving, please.”
“You know I will. Bye-bye.” I just know he’s waving at me.
“Bye-bye, Matty.” I grin at the nickname I’ve given him and, when he doesn’t complain about it, I know he likes it. I wave at the phone even though he can’t see me, then hang up.
Almost as soon as I set my phone down, it rings.
“Gotta any words for Linda?” I joke as I answer the phone.
“Who’s Linda? Wait, you mean at The Grove? If you’re ordering, get me a Grande, Iced, Sugar-Free…” Lily answers.
“No, I was…what’s up, Lil’?” I laugh lightly, taking note that she knows about Matthew and my new favorite place. Maybe we can all get coffee there sometime. I’d really like that. They’re becoming really close friends of mine.
Grey: New Beginnings (Spectrum Series Book 5) Page 31