by Renee Dyer
“I knew it.”
“Knew what, Cammie?”
“That you aren’t the bad guy everyone makes you out to be.”
Oh, Cammie, if you only knew the real me, you wouldn’t be saying that. You’d be running away like a scared dog with your tail between your legs. I’m the epitome of the bad guy stereotype and you are in no way equipped to handle what I’ll do to you.
“Want to have dinner tonight?” she asks. She’s smiling at me. She’s always smiling, that damn smile, that tears me up inside and makes me feel things I shouldn’t.
My phone beeps, signaling an incoming text. Inwardly, I cringe, because I know who it’s from.
“Excuse me one sec. I need to check this.”
She nods, not noticing how effected I am by her or the incoming message. I peer down at the phone and feel my stomach lurch in protest.
I can but it will cost u. b at ur place at 7.
I must stare at my phone for too long because Cammie reaches out and touches my arm. Her touch burns me—her innocence a reminder of the filthy acts I’ll be performing in a few hours.
“I’m sorry, but I’m busy tonight. How about lunch tomorrow?”
I don’t know why I’m torturing myself by making plans with her. I can’t let this girl be a part of my life. I’ll destroy her. That’s something I’m not willing to do.
“That sounds great.” She beams at me, her perfect teeth on full display. I want to warn her that I’m the devil and scream at her to run before she burns in my presence, but that fucking smile of hers keeps me from saying anything.
“Can we go to There’s Something About Joe? I’ve heard the food is great and I’ve been craving a caramel latte made the right way. Everyone says that’s the place to go.”
Seriously, that’s where she wants to go? Joe hates my guts. I’m not sure he’ll let me in the door.
“Sure. I’ll meet you there at noon. I should warn you, the owner and I don’t get along so well.”
She purses her lips and looks deep in thought for a minute. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No,” I say with a smile, actually feeling it for the first time in as long as I can remember. I can’t recall when anyone has ever put my feelings first. “I want to get you that caramel latte you’re craving and Joe’s is the best place to go.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek and I swear, I almost bust a nut from the electrical impulses shooting off all over my body.
What the fuck was that?
“See you tomorrow, Grant.”
I can’t say a word, so I lamely wave, like a teenage boy experiencing his first crush. I need to get my shit together around her. I am so much cooler than this.
I’d like to say that the rest of the day dragged on, but it rushed by and seven o’clock—on the dot—finds Davyd knocking at my door. The thought of him touching me again feels like a million bugs crawling over my skin. I know I’ll never feel clean again. He’s never raped me, but I still feel violated. I have to detach my mind from my body to handle the ways he soils me. I’ve been mentally closing myself off since I received the text hours ago, making sure any openings in my mind are completely sealed tight. There can be no way for him to mind fuck me, too. I’ll never recover from that.
“Tonight is your lucky night, lover. This one’s a freebie.”
Huh?
He slaps the folder into my chest and turns around to leave, but not before I get a good look at him. His normal meticulously styled hair is disheveled and his clothes are wrinkled. He’s acting twitchy. Something has him rattled.
“Everything alright, Davyd?”
He spins on me, malice in his eyes. I take a step back, involuntarily.
“Don’t think I won’t collect for this information,” he spits at me. “I just have other things to attend to at the moment.”
He storms out of my apartment and I sigh a breath of relief. I know when he does collect, it will be much worse than what would have happened tonight, but for now, I can relax and prepare what I need to say to Cammie tomorrow. Somehow, I need to make her see that she doesn’t want me in her life.
I sit down with the file Davyd left and start reading. Tucker’s grandmother, Rose Stavros, is in the hospital. Rose Stavros. My grandmother, too.
My anger starts to boil out of control. I start to think back to a time when I sat in a hospital room for months, trying to make the man I thought was my father fight for his life…fight to come back to me. He was everything to me. My dad. My best friend.
That was all ripped away from me.
Nathan wasn’t my dad. Mikos was and he left me for Tucker. Tucker got everything while I was left with nothing. He got our father and our grandmother, too.
He’s there with her now, comforting her and I never even got to know her. I hate him for having everyone’s love while all I’ve known is hate and abandonment. It’s time he knows discomfort. It’s time they all know they can’t just toss me aside.
Staring out into the darkening sky, I find it ironic that the comfort I find is from the approaching night and the hurt I’m about to inflict. This is who I was meant to be.
I grab my cell and call Carlos Grayson, a paparazzo I sometimes leak information to. I sent him to Tucker when he was in New Hampshire and I’m sending him to Tucker now in Kansas. I know he’ll gather the troops. Let’s see how the family reunion goes with a little portrait taking going on.
Content with myself, I settle in with a beer and some TV time for the night. I haven’t been this relaxed in weeks.
The next day finds me tense and unprepared to kick Cammie out of my life. I pace back and forth in front of There’s Something About Joe. I peek in the window and don’t see Joe, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t out back. Kiki is at the counter, but she doesn’t exactly like me either. They’re both friends with Vic. It’s nice to see Vic has someone on her side. I never wanted her to be on her own.
Jolting me from my wayward thoughts is a vision in jeans and a flowing yellow tank top. I don’t mean like the yellow eyesore that Melanie wore the other night. Cammie’s top is pale and although it isn’t fitted to her body, it shows off how shapely she is against her skinny jeans. Her flip -flops and the flower cut outs lining the neckline of her top make her outfit look fun, just like her personality. I can’t help but smile at her.
“You look gorgeous.” Shit, I’m supposed to be pushing her away, not complimenting her.
“Thank you,” she says, pushing her hair behind her left ear.
I wonder if that’s something she does when she’s nervous. I try to tell myself to stop wondering about her, but it’s not working.
“Shall we?” I ask as I open the door for her.
Dammit! Now, I’m acting like a gentleman. I’m sending all the wrong signals here. Come on, Grant. You need to show her why you are not a good guy to be in her life.
“What are you doing in my shop?” His voice sounds out across the room and I know it’s Joe before I see where he is. Well, this may just make the case for me. And, here he comes, in all his flaming glory.
I watch as he sashays across the room, his hips swinging and his hands flailing.
“Hey, Joe,” I say with a smirk on my face.
“Don’t you ‘hey, Joe’ me. You know I don’t like you. I can’t believe you would have the nerve to come in here after what you did to her.”
Cammie stares up at me, confusion written all over her face.
“Joe, this is Cammie. She’s new on the show and she heard you make the best caramel lattes around. She asked me to bring her here so she could try out your place. I warned her that you and I don’t get along, but I honestly didn’t think you’d make a scene.”
I keep my voice calm, hoping he’ll realize he looks like a diva at the moment.
“Replacing Vic already? Oh, wait. You can’t replace someone who never meant anything to you.” His words are laced with venom. He looks at Cammie and I know this is what I wanted her to see. “People ar
e pawns in his game. Unless you serve a purpose to him, you don’t mean a damn thing. Remember that, sweetheart. This one cannot be redeemed.”
He pivots, like he’s in the middle of a dance routine, and sashays to the back room. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been and Cammie has now been warned.
“Want to get lunch now?”
What? She doesn’t even look fazed by his outburst.
“Uh, sure.”
We order our food, though I can tell Kiki would rather throw knives at me than take my order. I want to tell her to take her best shot or get in line. The Tucker fanatics would love a go at me, but it’s not happening today or any other day.
When the food and drinks are ready, I motion for Cammie to pick a seat. I don’t know why I keep giving her the impression that I’m a nice guy. I should have walked in front of her and picked the worst seat in the place; instead, I show her courtesy once more, allowing her to believe I’m something I’m not.
Joe is right—I’m not redeemable. Actually, I’m detestable by most people’s standards.
If people really took the time to pay attention to my actions, they might think I'm schizophrenic, but they're wrong. There are no voices screaming to get out. I chose this darkness. It comforted me when nothing else could, molded me, helped me to see the path I needed to take. We're raised to believe there are monsters hiding in the blackness beyond what our eyes can see, but I'm not afraid. I welcome them.
Hell, to you, I may be one of those monsters.
This is what I want to tell her as she picks a seat near the window, but her smile stops me. Instead, I ask, “Why are you still having lunch with me?”
She stops mid -sit and looks me in my eyes. I can’t tell what’s going on in her mind. Normally I’m able to read people, but her eyes are…blank. There’s no anger. No judgment. No question. I’m not sure how I expected her to react to my question, but this lack of anything is unnerving.
“Why don’t we sit down, Grant, and I’ll tell you what I think.”
Her voice is even and that confuses me more than anything. Why the hell is she here with me? Nothing about me belongs here with a girl like her.
I sit and she does the same. She doesn’t rush into talking. No, she starts eating and enjoys her food. Her eyes close and a look of pure ecstasy crosses her face. A small moan comes from her and I have to adjust myself under the table before she opens her eyes and sees me.
What is it about her that has me reacting to everything she does?
“Wow! That’s what I call a sandwich!”
I can’t help but chuckle at her. She’s damn adorable and I want to see her eat more. I’m not used to this emotion swamping me. I quickly take a bite of my sandwich.
“Is yours as good as mine?” Her eyes are like little light bulbs you’d see on a Christmas tree, twinkling brightly and bringing joy to anyone who sees them. Damn, I’m losing my mind around her.
“Do you want to try it?” I offer without thought.
“Can I?” she squeals. Her pitch literally jumps about a hundred octaves and I still can’t find her unattractive. What the fuck has she done to me and why the fuck am I still playing nice?
I reach across the table and hold my pulled pork with caramelized onion sandwich out to her. Instead of taking it from me, as I thought she would, she leans in and takes a bite. The act is more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced. That damn spot in my heart expands a tiny bit more and I mentally curse at the organ to lock that shit down fast.
I need to stop this. Now!
Pulling my hand back, I start the conversation we should have had as soon as we sat down. “You never answered my question, Cammie. Why are you still having lunch with me?” I try to keep my face even, but I know I’m frowning. I want her to want to have lunch with me and admitting that to myself is harder than facing a bus barreling at me at top speed.
“Do you mean because of the little outburst from the owner?”
I nod slightly, afraid of the words that might come out of my mouth. I want to defend myself to her, but there’s really nothing I can say. Joe was right.
“Hmm,” she says and takes another bite of her sandwich.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? She’s trying to kill me.
“Did you really think the words of your jilted ex-lover’s friend would make me go running?” She looks at me like I’m completely stupid and I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water.
“I know I’m young, Grant, but try to give me more credit than that. I can handle myself in uncomfortable situations. You warned me that you didn’t get along with the owner. I didn’t know why, but you were still willing to come here with me so I could get this amazeballs caramel latte and yes, I know I just said amazeballs, but that doesn’t make me any less capable of handling what happened here today.”
“But—”
“Don’t but me. You warned me and I listened. I also listened to what he said. Who doesn’t want to stick up for their friend and tear down the person they feel hurt her? That’s what I took away from what that guy said. That’s why I’m still having lunch with you. So, can we drop it and eat now?”
I wish it were that easy, but she read the whole scene wrong. I am the bad guy Joe painted me out to be.
“You shouldn’t want to have lunch with me.”
Her annoyed huff only adds to the attraction I feel for her and doesn’t that just make me more of an asshole. I should be warning her off, not thinking about how badly I want to get her out of her clothes and hear her screaming my name.
“Seriously, Grant. I thought we could enjoy our lunch.”
I hate that I’ve upset her, but she deserves the truth. She’s too good to be around me. I’ll only destroy her. Eddie was right. She’s a nice girl and I’m going to make sure she stays that way.
“Just hear me out, okay?”
“Fine,” she sighs.
I smile at her obstinance. I’m going to miss her.
“Joe wasn’t just sticking up for his friend. He was right in the things he said.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You and Victoria were sleeping together. From what I heard, it was for about a year. It takes two people to have sex. I don’t get where her having stronger feelings than you means that you were playing a game with her.”
You really are a nice girl, Cammie. Get ready to find out how the big boys play. Actually, how the bastards play. Please listen to this warning.
“I was never into Vic.”
“What?” Shock takes over her facial features.
This is what I need her to hear and she finally seems to be paying attention. Good.
“I saw the way Tucker treated her. She was a showpiece for him. Other than that, he threw her to the side, ignoring her, and it pissed me off. So, I seduced her into an affair. I convinced her I loved her. I wanted to show her she was better than him and I wanted to show everyone else that he wasn’t a king. Treating people the way he did isn’t right. What I did, though, was wrong, too. I broke her heart. She fell in love with me. I didn’t take into account that that would happen.”
“Grant?”
“Cammie, you should stay away from me. I’m not a good guy. I think of myself first. Always. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you what kind of guy I am. All I do is hurt people. Look at Vic. She’s broken and that’s all on me.”
There, I said it. Now, she can run away and never look back.
But why do I feel like I ripped my heart from my chest, stabbed it a billion times, set it on fire, blew it up, and tried to put the tiny bits back in place? I should know by now, those tiny shards never fit in place when the mold that holds everything together has been broken.
“You thought of me first.”
“Huh?”
“Today. You thought of me first. You brought me here when you knew it might cause a fight. And you thought of Victoria first even if the outcome didn’t end as you thought it would. You saw Tucker treating her poorly and you stepped i
n. That means you thought of her and not yourself. You just didn’t think of all the variables.”
“You’re being naïve, Cammie. I’ll hurt you. I hurt everyone.” I want to tell her the entire truth so she knows how twisted I am, but I can’t. No one can know it all. Tucker hasn’t paid yet.
“If me seeing the good in people means I’m naïve, then so be it. I—”
“There is no good in me,” I say, cutting her off.
“Pfft. I’ve already seen it so you can stop warning me about the ‘bad’ person you think you are,” she says, throwing up air quotations. “Look, Grant, I wasn’t raised with a houseful of siblings to help me learn about other people. It was just me. But what my parents taught me was to go with my gut and to be honest. My gut tells me you have a good heart. It may be buried in there under all this ‘I’m such a bad guy’ crap you’re throwing at me, but I believe it’s there. You may end up hurting me, but in the end, it will be on me because I chose to get to know you. Understand what I’m saying?”
She’s not getting it.
“Cammie, I’m telling you this for your own good. I wish you would listen to me.” I try to plead with her one last time—a position I’m not used to being in. I always take what I want, do what I want. I don’t worry about others. Why is she so different?
“Let me decide for myself, okay? How about we try being friends? I don’t know many people here and I could use a friend. You seem like you could use a friend, too. Why don’t we start there? Do we have a deal?”
She puts her hand out across the table for me to shake and I’ll be damned if I can say no.
What have I just done to her?
Chapter Fourteen
Grant
Cammie wasn’t kidding when she said she wants to be friends. This week, while Tucker has been gone, outside of the work, she and I have gone to lunch, dinner, a movie, she made me dinner at her apartment, and tonight she’s coming to my place.
I’m not sure where she found time, but she’s been hanging out with Eddie, too. She’s trying to make friends, make this her home, and I told her I encouraged that, but deep down, I want to rip Eddie apart anytime he’s near her. I’d like to say I’m man enough that it doesn’t bother me, but every time I see them talking, see her smile or laugh at something he says, my muscles tense and I have to physically force myself from beating him into a bloody stump.