Take Me With You

by K. A. Linde

  “I thought I’d lost it on the embankment.”

  My eyes widened. “What embankment?”

  “Can you reach down and get it for me?”

  I glared at him. I was so pissed that he wasn’t giving me a straight answer on anything. If he was this injured, then we should never have had sex. He looked like he needed medical attention.

  But I dropped to the ground, grasped the phone, and held it out to him.

  He stared at it. “Another unknown number.”

  It stopped ringing, and then immediately, it started up again from the same number.

  “Just answer it, or turn the damn thing off, and tell me what happened!”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, choosing to answer the phone rather than address what had happened. “Hello?”

  With my arms crossed, I waited for him to get off the line. How could Grant have sustained that kind of damage? How had he had sex with that kind of bruising? I was gradually falling from anger into panic. Was he okay? Did he have internal bleeding? Did he need to go to a doctor? Oh God, how had I let him drive?

  Then, the next thing Grant said pulled me out of my troubled thoughts, “Dad?”

  “Hey, son.”

  The world stood still. I forgot about the motorcycle accident, the feel of making love to Ari, the desire to avoid the conversation about what had happened. I forgot everything. The only thing in that moment was the sound of my old man’s voice on the phone.

  “How the fuck did you get this number?” I demanded.

  “Grant, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  I lost it. “Don’t fucking say my name!”

  I stood up off the bed and paced my room. All I wanted to do was slam my fist into the wall, but I was already too banged up as it was. Plus, I didn’t want to scare Ari.

  “Grant,” she whispered, fearfully looking at me.

  I held up my hand and shook my head. This could not be happening right now.

  “Just give me a minute to explain,” my dad said. “I’ve been trying to reach out to you since I…since I got out of prison. Randy told you I got out, right?”

  “I don’t need or want any of your explanations. I know bullshit when I hear it. So, let me fill you in. I don’t want you to contact me. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you talking to Uncle Randy or bringing anyone else into this.”

  “I’m not dragging anyone into this. Stop, and listen for a second,” he snapped, dropping immediately back into his military tone of voice.

  It was like a light switch when he talked to me. Suddenly, I was ten years old again.

  He was standing over me, demanding obedience, always pulling the authority figure over my head. I saw him holding the gun out in front of him. I ran to my mother, but it was too late, and he pulled the trigger. I felt her blood on my hands.

  I wiped my hands on my bare legs after reliving it. I’d relived it a thousand times in my nightmares. And here was my nightmare, coming to haunt me once more.

  “You don’t deserve a chance for me to listen to you. Did you give her a chance?” I growled.

  “Don’t bring her into this.”

  That was it. That was the end. As it was, I couldn’t believe I had been on the phone this long with a raving lunatic.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want! I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not a ten-year-old you can blame for murdering your wife!”

  “Is that how you feel?” he asked. His voice was deadly cold and devoid of emotion, showing me truly how much of a complete and total psychopath he was.

  “You don’t care about how I feel. I was there. I saw you holding the gun and pointing it at my mother before you killed her. So, whatever the fuck you have planned in that fucked-up head of yours, stop now. I want no part of it. I want you to leave me and everyone else I care about alone. If you get anywhere near them, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

  I hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. I wish I had lost the damn thing off the embankment. At least then, it would have saved me from that phone call.

  My breathing was labored, and suddenly, all the events of the day came crashing back over me. I collapsed onto the ground.

  Ari screamed and lunged for me. She placed my head in her lap and brushed my hair back. “Grant, oh my God,” she murmured before kissing my forehead. “Everything will be okay. Tell me what happened.”

  I struggled to sit up, but she gently tugged me back down. I relented only because I had no energy left in my body. Her fingers trailed down my arm, over my bruised side, and to my hip. She brought my hand up to her face and kissed each and every inch of damaged skin. I lay there, mentally and physically immobilized.

  “Grant, I love you. How can I help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong?”

  She sounded near to tears, and I felt like a douche for pushing her to that.

  I finally sighed and prepared myself for her anger. “That was my dad on the phone. He wants me to listen to him or some shit. Also, I got in a motorcycle accident.”

  “You did what?” she shrieked.

  Then, she covered her mouth and shook her head. I could tell she was warring with herself on her reaction.

  “Did you go to the hospital?”

  “No, I was driven home by a couple who had found me.”

  “Found you?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. I was thrown off the bike and fell down an embankment. The bike didn’t fare as well.”

  “Oh, Grant, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you go to the doctor?”

  “I’m fine,” I repeated mechanically.

  “If you weren’t already bruised beyond belief, I would beat the shit out of you right now. Come on. I’m taking your truck, and we’re going to the emergency room.”

  “Ari, no. I don’t like doctors. I hate the ER. So much blood, and…” My skin felt clammy, and I thought I might throw up or black out.

  Blood reminded me of holding my mother as she died. Blood ran thick and heavy between my fingers as I tried to save her. Doctors rushing around, trying to save a dead woman. Nothing could be done. The sound of the flat line. The questions. The nightmares.

  “Grant,” Ari breathed again, “I’m going to be there. If you die from internal bleeding, I’ll never forgive you. So, we’re going to the doctor. Now, get up. I’m driving.”

  “Princess—”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. You got into a serious car accident and need to get medical help—now.”

  There was no arguing with her. Everything I wanted to say about the accident, about my mother, about my dad…she’d sidestepped like a fucking pro. We were going to the hospital if she had to drag me every goddamn step of the way.

  And I loved her even more for it.

  Two broken ribs, eight stitches, and a concussion.

  The doctor didn’t look half as exasperated at me as Ari was. When she’d heard the news about the accident, I’d thought she might actually give me another concussion.

  “How could you be so stupid?” she groaned. “You know how I feel about motorcycles!”

  “You’re more comfortable shooting a gun than being on the back of my bike.”

  “With good reason.” She indicated my beat-up body.

  “Don’t have good experience with guns either, darlin’.”

  Her whole face softened with pity. I hated that look from her. No one needed to pity me. This was why I’d never told anyone about my past, not even Miller knew the sordid details.

  I looked away from her. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Grant,” she murmured, reaching for me.

  I stood and brushed past her. She grabbed my hand anyway. The pity was gone when I next looked into her eyes. It was replaced with determination.

  “Whatever you’re thinking right now, just stop. All we’ve been doing the past couple of months is fighting and running away from each other. I’m over it. I’m just over it.” She balled her hands into fists at her sides. Her eyes were fierce. “We c
an’t push each other away anymore. You trusted me with the information about your parents. I gave you…” She blushed furiously. “Well, me. Whatever. You know what I mean. And I can’t keep up this cat-and-mouse game. Either, we’re okay, or we’re not—”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist and silenced the rest of her speech with a kiss. She growled low in her throat and tried to fight me off. When I winced at her outburst and only deepened the kiss, she gave in. Her body went slack, and she leaned into me.

  “Okay,” I whispered against her lips. Then, I kissed her one more time.

  She nodded. Her eyes were still closed as she stole another kiss from me. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me forget what I was saying.”

  “I plan to do more than that.”

  She softly poked me in the stomach, and I groaned.

  “You can barely stand up. We shouldn’t have even done anything earlier.”

  I smirked down at her. “And here I thought you liked it.”

  She rolled her eyes and prodded me toward the door. “How about we get you home?”

  I laughed but relented. I actually felt a lot shittier than I was letting on. After all the adrenaline had worn off, I completely crashed. As much as I’d claimed to want to take Ari home and fuck her all over again, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to more than crawl into bed and pass out—if I could even make it to the bed.

  Spending my birthday night in the ER hadn’t exactly been what I had in mind. But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

  It felt ridiculous to me to be so happy in a stale sterile environment full of sick people, but it was the first time in a long time that things were right with Grant. Sure, we had a lot to talk about, but at least it felt as if we were getting somewhere. The complications that had been brought up with the return of his dad and the motorcycle accident seemed to have brought us closer. And I wasn’t about to let that slip away.

  I drove Grant home from the hospital, and despite his protests, he fell asleep as soon as he got into bed. I crawled in next to him, trailing my fingers over the mottled bruises on his bare skin. I fell asleep listening to his even breathing, thanks to the painkillers the doctor had given him for his ribs.

  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Grant rolled over, wrapped an arm around my waist, and rested his chest flush against my back. My eyes slid open in surprise at the feel of his dick pressing through his thin cotton shorts and into the small amount of space between us.

  “Ari,” he groaned through his half-asleep daze.

  His lips landed lightly on my collarbone. My body molded to his, and I felt the intensity in his desire. How had I ever been too afraid to succumb to this? How had I ever thought that by saying no, when I’d really wanted to say yes, we’d somehow be able to talk more? I didn’t want to stop, not anymore.

  Scrounging up some courage, I pressed my butt back against him and made teasing circular motions with my hips. He mumbled something incoherent in the crook of my neck and nipped at the sensitive skin. I arched back toward him, and then he grabbed my hip in his hand and pulled me back even harder against him.

  I was fully awake at that point. Desperate to go further, our bodies rocked against each other, waking up the deep-seated desire coursing between us. Grant slipped his hand from my hip and moved it down between my legs. I was already hot and pulsing with anticipation. He squeezed his hand into the tight space and then massaged up and down, flicking his finger against my clit through the material, while I bucked against him.

  A fiery inferno rose up all around us. We were barely doing anything, yet at any moment, I was going to combust. The room was so dark, and our bodies were so connected. The tension of the previous months stretched between us, snapping and pushing us over the edge.

  I couldn’t wait another minute. I rolled over onto my back and crushed my lips to his. “Fuck me,” I breathed. I didn’t even feel ridiculous requesting it of him. I’d come so far in such a short period of time.

  Our clothes were quickly strewn across the bedroom floor. Grant eased himself over my body, pressing my legs open for him. My grinding against him had lengthened his dick, and I could tell he was already rock-hard as he slipped into my opening. My wetness coated the tip, drawing him deeper. I expanded and tightened all around him as he filled me.

  Our breathing quickened in time with his measured thrusts. I buried my hands into his hair and tugged his lips back down to mine. I couldn’t get enough of this moment. Grant made me feel alive as if I could conquer the world.

  And I came apart while telling him how much I loved him.

  I lay back, satiated and content. Grant fell back onto the bed and pulled me into him. He struggled to get his breathing back to normal.

  I nuzzled closer to him. “Are you okay? Do you need medicine?” I whispered. I hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hand, and I didn’t want him to get worse because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves.

  He kissed the top of my head. “I’m okay, Princess. Just lie here with me.”

  I complied and closed my eyes. This was pure magic right here.

  My nails scratched lightly down his chest. He sighed pleasurably, and goose bumps rose on his arms.

  “That feels nice,” he whispered into my hair.

  “Good.”

  After ten minutes of silence, I thought Grant had finally fallen back asleep. I was about to hop out of bed and use the bathroom before trying to shut my brain down and getting some more sleep myself.

  Then, Grant spoke again, “I still have nightmares.”

  I remained very still, unsure whether he was talking to me or to himself.

  “After hearing his voice again, I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

  His dad.

  Grant was talking to me about his dad.

  I didn’t say anything. I just slowly reached out and twined our fingers together. If he wanted to talk about it, then I would be here. I would always be here for him.

  “He wanted me to listen to what he was saying. But how could he fucking ask that of me? I don’t want a relationship with him. I’ve spent my life escaping what he did, escaping him. I would be fine if it fucking stayed that way.”

  He sighed heavily and ran his thumb across my hand and then over my mother’s engagement ring sitting on my right ring finger.

  “What’s it like to have a father who loves you, Ari?”

  Unbidden tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to keep them back by blinking furiously. My throat closed up. I swallowed back the pain and anguish I’d heard in Grant’s voice. When I finally had my voice under control, I answered, “I’m sure your father loves you, Grant.”

  “No, I can’t be sure of that. Your father wants what is best for you. He raised you right, sent you to get an Ivy League education, bought you a BMW, met you in the city to get dinner, gave you your mother’s engagement ring as a birthday present. He even stupidly, if I do say so, tried to get you to date someone he approved of. That is a father who loves his daughter. My father only ever brought death, depression, and destruction on my family.”

  “People show their love in different ways,” I whispered. “My father is a hard man. He works constantly. I hardly saw him while I was growing up. I can’t compare it to what you went through, but I would never describe my upbringing as warm and loving.”

  “You’ll never realize how good you have it,” he muttered.

  “I’m not denying I had a privileged childhood. But you have people who love you, Grant, people who took care of you afterwards. Your father did not make you the man you are today.” I sat up on my elbow and looked down at him. “You’re not half as bad as you think you are. Your aunt and uncle raised you right. Sydney loves you so much. The guys are your family. You didn’t let your circumstances dictate your devotion to the people who matter to you.”

  Grant ran his fingers back through my hair and looked up at me as if I were a shining angel. “You matter to me, P
rincess.”

  “You matter to me, too.” I bent down and softly kissed him on the lips. “Did your dad say what he wanted to talk about?”

  “No.” Grant closed his eyes and heavily blew out. “I didn’t exactly wait for him to tell me.”

  “So, maybe he wants to get to know you?” I offered hopefully.

  He fiercely shook his head. “No way. You don’t know him. You didn’t hear him. When I called him out on it, he immediately dropped into his military voice. I know that voice. He isn’t a good person. He’s a murderer, Ari. He doesn’t deserve a chance to talk to me. And I’m sure he doesn’t even want that.”

  “Okay,” I said hesitantly.

  “You don’t get it. When he went to prison, the last thing he ever said to me was that I had killed my mother, and when he got out, he was going to make me pay for it,” Grant said, a pained look on his face. “I don’t doubt for a second he’s waiting for the opportunity to kill me. You shouldn’t either.”

  “I believe you.”

  I was chilled to the bone. Who would tell a ten-year-old kid he was responsible for his mother’s death? Better yet, who would tell a ten-year-old kid he was going to make the kid pay for what he had done? Grant had had no part in what happened, and he had been torturing himself about it ever since. His dad’s parting words hadn’t helped anything mentally. The thought of having a psycho get out of prison to enact retribution was terrifying.

  “Good. That’s why I think you should leave with the girls for spring break.”

  “What?” I asked, confused by the subject change.

  “I know your roommates are going to Florida for the break next week. You should go with them.”

  “Why? I was planning on staying around campus, so I can work on papers and get some extra lab time in.”

  He looked at me in disbelief. “Lab work over getting a tan?”

  “I don’t get tan. I go from pasty white to lobster red and back.”

  “Ari, I don’t want you to be in town if he shows up,” he earnestly told me.

  I sat up straight. “Wait! You think he’s going to show up here?”

  Grant clutched his side as he struggled to right himself. “You’re severely underestimating him if you think he won’t.” He reached forward and caressed my cheek. “I want you to be safe. I’d be worried about you if you were here. He tracked down my phone number. With his military background, I’m sure he could locate my address, or at the very least, get information on the band since it’s readily available. Now that he’s played his first hand, the second will follow.”