Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3)

by Renee Dyer

  “Enough? Grant, this is way too much. I can’t—”

  “Well, I was going to get us BFF, you know, best friend forever matching charm bracelets, but I couldn’t find any in my size.”

  “Oh, you shit! You’re not supposed to make me laugh and want to accept this ginormous gift. Thank you, you crazy person.”

  She jumps from her seat and wraps herself around my neck. Without a thought, I close my eyes and squish her to my chest. A million dots of light burst behind my closed lids, breaking up the darkness I’m so accustomed to bathing in, but I can’t seem to care. I don’t want to call forth the blackness. I want to dance in the brilliance, bathe in the radiance, and breathe in the purity. For her, I want to step out of the shadows and embrace happiness.

  “Cammie, more guests are arriving.”

  Eddie’s voice is like putting your dick into a bucket of ice. I’d like to put his head in a bucket of ice and leave it there until his lips are too numb to form words. Fucker.

  Cammie unwraps herself from my neck and gives me a smile before shoving her gift card in her jeans pocket. “Not taking a chance of someone else trying to run away with that bad boy,” she jokes. “I’ll be talking to Joe. He needs to get some buttercup mugs.”

  I smile at her as she grabs her latte. She takes a sip as Eddie ushers her back toward the entrance where Tucker is watching me like I’ve thrown acid on everyone here. He can go fuck himself. He smirks at me before he turns to greet the next guest.

  Here I sit, alone, watching the girl I know I’m falling for, with two men I can’t stand. Her crack about the buttercup mugs and watching her with them has me thinking of my altercation with Joe and knowing the things he said were right.

  “What are you doing back in my shop?”

  He’s not screaming this time, so at least we’re not the spectacle of the place, but anger seeps from every word.

  “I just need to get a birthday gift, Joe, and then I’ll be on my way. Is that possible without all the attitude?” I ask, irritated.

  “Doubtful, but the quicker I get you what you need, the quicker I get you out of my sight.”

  I shake my head at his blatant bad treatment of a customer. Just because he pissed me off, I stare at the travel mugs for a few extra minutes. I already know which one I’m going to get, but I want to make him squirm a little. None of them are what I really want. I want one with buttercups on it—yellow flowers, at the very least—but the closest he has is white daisies with yellow centers.

  “How much can I get put on a gift card?”

  He rolls his eyes like I’m stupid and I have to grit my teeth. Every restaurant, store, café, vendor around here is different. I don’t assume anymore.

  “Can I get two hundred and fifty dollars on one card?” Let’s try a new approach.

  “Oh shit, you actually like this one.” His face lights up and I know I don’t like this. Him smiling at me cannot mean anything good.

  “I don’t know what you mean and I’m on a time schedule here. Can you answer the question?” Why the hell is this the one time a customer doesn’t come through that damn door?

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he sneers. “You, Grant Andrews, are not the kind of man who can give with all of your heart. There’s a piece of you that’s missing. I don’t know if you were even born with all of it. But the fact that you’re trying…that’s going to be quite the show. I want to sit front row so I can watch the explosion. I want to see them scrape up the pieces of you after she sees you for who you are and you get left with nothing.”

  “You done now? I need that gift card and is there any chance you can wash this mug for me and fill it with one of those caramel lattes you’re famous for? She really likes them.”

  I try to pretend his words don’t bother me, but I fear exactly what he’s saying.

  “Sure thing. I don’t normally do that, but I’ll do anything to help you butter her up. The harder you try, the worse you’ll fall. It’s what you deserve after Vic.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing it’s going to stoke his fire.

  “Why her? What did she ever do to you?”

  I sigh and decide to give him a piece of the truth. “Look at Vic now. Is she a simple piece of arm candy? Does the world look at her as Tucker Stavros’ accessory? No, they don’t, but they did and so did he. She was better than that and she needed to see it.”

  “But you broke her down even more. You let her believe you loved her and then tossed her aside like trash.”

  “I’m sorry for that. There are reasons and someday I’ll tell her.”

  “You harass her on the show. She tells me what you say to her. It’s horrendous,” he spits at me.

  “I do that shit on purpose,” I growl, low enough for just him to hear. “I know there is a warrior in that woman and if I have to be the biggest son of a bitch in the world to bring it out of her, I will. One thing I won’t do is let her go back to being some man’s rug to be walked all over. Think what you want of me, and you’re probably right, but Vic is better than who she was with Tucker. Now, get me my fucking order.”

  He doesn’t say anything, he just simply nods. I run my fingers through my hair as he goes to the sink and washes the mug. My mind races while he prepares the latte for Cammie and I want to kick my own ass for being so damn honest. I should know better.

  He comes back and surprisingly helps me to wrap up the gift. I thank him, but know we haven’t mended any bridges in this small tying of ribbons and bows. I can see he has more questions, but I have no more answers to give. I’ve already said far too much.

  As I turn to leave, Joe says, “You may think you were protecting Vic in some sick way, but you broke her. What you’re doing now, it’s cruel. That’s what I mean when I say there’s something missing in you. A normal person wouldn’t handle things this way. This new girl seems sweet. You should let her go before you do damage she can’t recover from. Vic hasn’t recovered. Don’t do that to someone else.”

  I walk out of his shop with a pretty box in my hands and his words hanging heavy on my obviously lacking heart.

  My soaring mood from earlier has deflated. The memory of my conversation with Joe and having my moment with Cammie interrupted has me scowling at the table, without a beer to sulk in.

  Cammie is glowing—the belle of the ball. And instead of enjoying the moment with her, I’m acting like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. I’ve got a full pout on and at any second I might throw myself on the floor and begin kicking and screaming. It’s quite pathetic.

  Tucker and Eddie haven’t stopped smiling since she returned to their side and I can’t say I blame them. Cammie has a presence that brings joy. I’ve yet to see anyone who isn’t happy around her.

  I scan the room and like stones lifted from my chest, I feel like I can breathe easier. Davyd is nowhere to be seen. Maybe I lucked out and he left without giving me anymore grief while I was giving Cammie her gift. I quickly take another gander around the crowd that has grown significantly and there’s no sign of him.

  This may turn out to be an okay night after all.

  The DJ starts up and the crowd applauds. Cammie starts mingling and I take the opportunity to grab another beer and mingle as well. I’ve never been one to mope and tonight won’t be when I start. I’ve worked hard to create the character this crowd has come to know and…

  I wouldn’t call it love. They used to like me a whole lot, but they’ve been a tad leery of hanging out since the fallout with Tucker. It could be that I turn into an asshole the second he steps on the set. I used to cover my disdain for him, but now there’s no reason to. They seem to think Vic and I ended our affair because she couldn’t continue to hurt him. Neither of us corrected that. Maybe that’s why people dislike her so much more than me. She’s the bitch who stomped on both of us.

  If they only knew.

  “Eek! Let’s go, bestie!” I feel her hands around my waist as her high-pitched squeal assaults my ears. I was just about to step up to
a group to chat. They look at us with amused grins on their faces. I turn my attention to her and it becomes abundantly clear that she’s dragging me to the dance floor.

  “Ah no. I don’t dance and trust me, you don’t want me to,” I say loudly, so she’ll hear me over the music.

  “Pfft. Do you hear that? That’s Sexy Back. You, bestie, have the sexiest back here, and you’re going to shake it with me. Let’s do this.”

  I run my hand over my face, knowing I won’t deny her anything.

  Did she just say I have a nice ass?

  She let’s go of my waist, but grabs my hand. I let myself get lost in the heat of her touch until she pulls apart and starts to move. This is the moment I was dreading. I cannot dance. Rhythm is not my problem, but my feet, hips, and arms all seem to move in the wrong direction. Picture that kid in high school you laughed at for his horrid dancing skills and that’s me, except I know I can’t dance. Normally, the kid you were laughing at thought he could.

  Cammie watches me for a second and starts chuckling. Great. I’m worse than I remembered.

  “Finally,” she shouts, “someone who dances almost as bad as I do!” Her smile blasts to my heart and I know I’m never going to be the same now that I’ve had her in my life. I actually start to pay attention to her and she’s right. She’s terrible. Not only does she have no dancing skills, she has no rhythm. But she’s having a great time.

  I take hold of her hand and start spinning her under my arm while her giggles flitter through the air. Best way to cover bad dancing is to make it look like you’re trying to get fancy, right? I pull her into me and sway our hips side to side and then push her out to arm’s length before pulling her in again. Others join us on the floor and suddenly, we have a group of people disco dancing, break dancing, and many other variations of old school dances. Cammie and I are, by far, the worst dancers in the crowd, but neither of us mind.

  After the song ends, I step back and let her have time with the others on the floor. This party should be about her making new friends. I want that for her. I head for the table where I had discarded my beer and see Eddie standing there.

  What did I do now?

  I expect to get another lecture about how awful I am and how I need to keep my distance from Cammie. Instead, he gives me a nod. I don’t know what the fuck to do with that. We have an unspoken moment where we agree that tonight is for her and we’re not going to fight. He walks one way and I walk the other.

  I spend the next couple of hours talking with co-workers. Every so often, I check in to see Cammie talking, laughing, and even doing her version of dancing. No matter when I look at her, she always has a smile on her face. I’m glad for it, but it pains me, too. I know when she realizes what kind of man I truly am, she won’t be smiling like that. The thought of hurting her makes me feel physically ill.

  “Have you seen Cammie?”

  “Huh? Uh, no,” I say, looking at Eddie confused. I hadn’t searched her out for about twenty minutes and the last I had seen, she was dancing. Now, as I check the room around me, she isn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Chip said she headed toward the ladies room looking upset, but that was ten minutes ago. I sent Laney in and she’s not there.”

  Instant anxiety rises. Who could have upset her? Eddie is worried, too. I can see it in the way he’s grinding his teeth and constantly scanning the room.

  “I’ll help you search for her.”

  He nods and walks away. That’s when I notice Tucker asking people if they’ve seen her. Dammit! Getting everyone panicked is not the way to go. Wherever she is, she won’t want people fussing over her. I know he’s just getting to know her, but that’s Cammie 101.

  I can see he and Eddie have this room covered and it’s obvious she isn’t in here, so I head outside. I dial her number as quick as my fingers can. When I hear Treasure start playing close by, I follow the sound.

  Around the corner of the building, Cammie is standing with her back against the brick, staring at her phone. Her finger is hovering over the answer button and tears are coming down her cheeks. Anger erupts from deep inside me and I feel the need to pummel whoever hurt her into dust. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

  But I have to lock that rage up. She needs comfort.

  I walk a few steps closer. “You don’t need to answer that. I’m right here.” I disconnect from my end and put my cell in my pocket.

  She doesn’t look up at me or stop staring at her phone.

  “I would have answered it. Just for you, Grant.”

  “I know, buttercup. Wanna tell me why you’re out here crying when there’s a whole bunch of people in there celebrating your birthday?”

  She shrugs. “You know what they say, it’s my party and I’ll cry if I—”

  “Oh no,” I cut her off. “You and I are not going to be those kind of besties. No more lame jokes made from song titles. What’s going on, Cammie?”

  She sniffles and I can’t take the distance any longer. I walk the couple of steps separating us and pull her into my arms. I don’t care that her tears seep into my shirt or that her mascara may stain it. Whatever is going on in her heart is much more important.

  “You’ll think I’m stupid,” she sobs out.

  “I highly doubt that. I’m a guy. Most of the time, I think with my small brain, so how smart can I really be?”

  “How do you know just what I need to hear?” she asks, peeking up at me.

  It’s my turn to shrug because, really, I’m normally the last guy to say the right thing. I keep my arms around her and stay quiet, not sure I could find more words now if I tried.

  “I got homesick.”

  Come again…did she say she got homesick?

  “I told you it was stupid.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You didn’t have to. I felt your body tense. You never talk about your family, Grant, and I don’t know why, but you know I’m close to my parents. This is the longest I’ve ever been away from home and it’s the first time I’ve celebrated my birthday without them. I was dancing in there, laughing and having a good time, and it dawned on me that they aren’t here.”

  She gets quiet and I hug her tighter to me. I can’t understand her pain because I don’t have anyone to feel this kind of pain over. Her fingers brush across my chest and I struggle to remain calm as my body ignites from her touch. This is completely the wrong time to react to her.

  “Is there anything I can do to make this better for you?”

  Her blue eyes peer up at me again and a small smile graces her lips. “You’ve done everything just right already.”

  She lays her cheek against my chest instead of burying her face this time, and I feel the tension start to leave her body. I place a kiss on the top of her head. I’m not sure where the gesture comes from, but it feels right.

  “It will get better, buttercup. I promise, and I’ll be here for you anytime you need me.”

  I try to stop the words because I don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep, but I’ll do anything to dry her tears.

  She grunts out a “thank you” and loosens her hold on me. She may be coming out of her funk, but I know she still misses her folks. It’s this moment, with her crying in my arms, I realize I need to do something special for her.

  And I know just what I’m going to do.

  Here’s to hoping I can go through with it when the time comes. I’m not so great at letting people see into my past.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cammie

  It’s been two weeks since my party, but what a two weeks it’s been. I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know Tucker and now he’s like the big brother I never had. We push each other around and joke like siblings should. He looks out for me, too. Especially when it comes to Grant. In true little sister fashion, I fight him every step of the way.

  Grant…well, he has stolen my heart.

  I knew he was special the first night I saw him, but it really daw
ned on me the night of my party. It wasn’t just how gentle he was when he found me crying. It was like a sledge hammer to the gut, pounding me so hard I lost my breath…lost all sense of thought for a minute or two. His arms around me, was all I could think of. When he lay his lips on my head, I almost moaned. I’m not sure if it was from him actually kissing me or because I wanted them on my lips.

  I just knew my heart belonged to him and it felt right.

  The last couple of weeks, I’ve hung out with him, too, but he’s been…off, somehow. I can’t really explain it. He has the same smile he always reserves for me. I know it’s my smile because I watch him when he doesn’t realize it and he’s different with other people. He’s almost fake with them. He holds back his emotions, but he doesn’t do that with me. He doesn’t really laugh with others. His eyes don’t light up. They look devoid of emotion even though his lips lift at the corners and laughter falls from them.

  It makes my heart hurt for him.

  I want to hug him every time I see him fail to connect with people. I wish I knew who hurt him because I know someone did. Someone hurt him so bad, he’s made it his life’s mission to shut himself off from everybody to avoid the pain people can inflict.

  I don’t know how I broke through his walls, but I feel honored that he chose me. Well, I guess his heart chose me. Isn’t it our hearts that truly make the decisions we’re afraid to make for ourselves?

  We don’t give our hearts enough credit for how tough they are. That’s why when they break, the devastation is so overwhelming, it feels like we’ll never be whole again. And maybe we never completely are. Who knows how the most important part of our being reconstructs after complete and utter ruin?

  What I do know is Grant allowed me into the most crucial part of his life and I’m going to hold onto it for dear life.

  I wonder whether Grant will be back to normal tonight. He hasn’t been mean to me in any way. He just hasn’t been…I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because he’s made excuses not to be alone with me since my party. He hasn’t been to my place and I haven’t been to his. We haven’t had any movie nights and I miss them.