Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3)

by Renee Dyer

  Eddie sighs. “The fucker is gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” I blubber out.

  “Are you the deaf one now? I went to his house to talk to him and the door was unlocked and partially open. It’s completely cleaned out, like he was warned to clear out quick. So, again, I’m gonna ask—”

  “I didn’t fucking tell him anything! I hate that motherfucker and if I could, I’d break his fucking neck!”

  Both Tucker and Eddie sit there in silence. They have no idea the deal I made with the devil and now the devil is on the loose. I can feel the fires of hell reaching out to burn me.

  “Fine,” Eddie says. “I’ll get a private investigator involved to find him. I have one other thing to talk to you guys about and this is a decision you both have to make.”

  Tucker and I look at each other and back to the screen.

  “You know the network is planning to go after Grant for a huge sum of money. They’re screaming about loss of revenue and the loss of pay for the crew and actors.” We nod. We’d heard this from the lawyers. Even with the money I’ve invested from my inheritance and what I’ve made from commercials and this show, I’ll never be able to swing what they’re talking about, but I’ll have to figure something out.

  “Well, I was thinking…what if I pitched them something they may want more than the money?”

  “What do networks want more than money?” Tucker asks.

  “Ratings,” Eddie replies. “Ratings bring in the money. You and Grant have quite the story to tell. If you two are willing to have me write it, I can pitch it to the network. They can decide whether they want it as a show, movie, or mini-series. It might just get Grant out of some of this trouble, but it will put you two in the spotlight big time. This is your personal life and you have to decide whether you’re okay with it all being public.”

  I’m speechless. Eddie is seriously trying to figure out how to help me after I tanked his show?

  “I’m all for it,” Tucker says, almost instantaneously.

  “Tucker, think about this,” I say. “They’ll know about Mikos abandoning you. About your mom’s cancer and me trying to destroy you. Do you really want the world to know how awful your life has been at the hands of your family?”

  He’s ready to jump in and save me, but I can’t let him do that. I’m trying to save him from further hurt.

  “They’re going to start digging anyway, Grant. I’d rather we tell them our story than some paparazzi asshole spin it into something it wasn’t. Wouldn’t you?”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “The press releases will start soon and then it’s going to be a hailstorm of questions from every angle. If we can say our story is being written, that can be a constant go to answer. Yes, stories will still be put out there and there’s no way to stop that, but our truth will set things right.”

  “Okay.” It’s all I can say. Tucker was right that night in his apartment when he said we’d find a way to figure this out. There’s still a lot up in the air, but he’s sticking by me and we’re making this work. I still have my brother.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Cammie

  It’s been a couple weeks since the night Eddie asked me to come to his place because he needed to tell me something. I could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn’t good, but I never expected the news to hurt so much. When I got there, he had Tucker on speakerphone and together, they told me what Grant had done. I tried to hold it together while they explained Magic in the Blood had our scripts the entire season and would be running nearly identical episodes for the last two. I failed. How could Grant have done this and I never suspected him capable of it?

  Everyone around me tried warning me that Grant was a bad guy. He even told me himself, but would I listen? Hell no! I took all those awful, ugly words, threw them into a box, and closed it tight, needing to believe if that box stayed shut, it couldn’t be true. I still don’t want to believe it. My career is in jeopardy because of his actions and yet, I can’t bring myself to turn away from him. No, I want to run to him and calm the storm I know is brewing in his mind and heart. He has to be beating himself up and that thought has me worried.

  I wanted to go to him in New Hampshire, but Tucker said it wasn’t a good idea. Grant was barely able to leave the guest room at Adriana’s. His guilt wouldn’t allow him to stomach being around people for more than a few minutes. Outside of the engagement party, Tucker said Grant stayed holed up, convinced he didn’t deserve to be in anyone’s company. Every call I made to check in on Grant broke my heart more. He’s suffering and there’s nothing I can do to help.

  These couple of weeks, waiting for Grant to return, have been hell. Having the press releases go live, waiting to see how fans and the crew would react, and waiting to see him has taken its toll on me. I haven’t wanted to eat. I listen to every conversation I can with his name in it. I buy every tabloid involving him. It feels like a sickness, but I need to know what’s going on so I can help him get better. I will not let him turn me away.

  That’s what I tell myself as I head to his apartment and walk right past Benny to the elevator. When he tries to stop me, I give him the look of death and tell him if Grant Andrews wants to throw me out of the building, then he is going to have to do it himself. I’m not sure what he sees in my face, but he throws his hands up and goes back to work. I do feel bad that I’m interfering with his job, but nothing is keeping me from Grant. I need him to see what he means to me.

  My legs are shaking and my palms are sweaty as I stand before his door. It takes every ounce of my control to keep me upright. My insides feel like jelly and I wonder if I’ll pass out before I get a word out. I want to be strong for him, but I don’t know if I am that type of person. I knock anyway, the knock that will tell him it’s me.

  “Oh for motherfucking Christ’s sake,” I hear from the other side of the door.

  I was hoping for a more positive response, but I guess I have to take whatever I can get. Footsteps boom across his floor and I can picture his mouth turned down in anger at my intrusion. The door flies open and before me stands a man I don’t recognize. I gasp involuntarily.

  “What do you want, Cammie?” he demands, but the force is lost on me. He looks so broken. His eyes are blood shot and he’s easily lost ten pounds. His hair doesn’t look like it’s been brushed and he hasn’t shaved in days. His t-shirt is rumpled and his shoulders are turned in on themselves. This is not the man I fell in love with.

  “I needed to see you,” I say as I walk by him. I don’t ask for his permission or wait for him to step aside.

  “Why?” He closes the door, but doesn’t attempt to come closer.

  “We’re friends, remember?” I try to keep my voice light, but I hear the tremble. I’m not afraid of him, but I’m afraid for him. Seeing him like this, I worry how far he’ll let himself go.

  “Friends,” he huffs in disgust. “Do friends fuck each other when they know they’re about to destroy the other one? Is that how you describe friendship, buttercup?”

  I hate that he’s trying to goad me and I hate that he’s using his nickname for me even more. I refuse to let him work me into a fight. I came here to help him, not let him sink further into despair. Tucker and I have had many talks and we both feel I’m the one person Grant ever truly cared for.

  “Are you done or do you want to spew more hatred at me?” I skewer him with my eyes. “You can tell me a million things you’ve done wrong, Grant, but I will still be your friend. I love you and deep down in your heart, you know the words I speak are the truth. You just have to be willing to hear them.”

  I walk over to him and lift my hand to his face, needing him to feel my words. I’m not prepared for him to grab my wrist and slam me against the wall, his face going red with anger.

  “Goddammit, Cammie! Why are you here?” The words fly from his mouth in a fury-filled stream. “I’m a fucking monster! You should be running from me, not looking at me
with hope in your eyes! Why can’t you see that? After everything I’ve done…”

  His voice deflates and he drops my wrist. Exasperation is evident in everything he does. From the way he sighs, to the frustrated ripping at his hair, and even his sagging shoulders when he turns his back to me. It pains me to see him caving in on himself. Grant has always been confident, cocky even, but right now, he’s just…defeated.

  A tears slips down my face and I quickly wipe it away before he can see. I don’t want him to think I pity him and I know that’s what he’ll believe. Others may pity him—hell, others may look at him and see the monster he insists he is—but when I look in his eyes, I see a man drowning in a lifetime of disappointment. He’s been lost to it for so long, the pain has warped him into someone new. I want to help him find the person who has snowball fights with me and creates picnics on his living room floor. Every so often, I’ve seen sparks of a playful boy pushing through all the seriousness he shows everyone else. He’s been sweet and funny and kind. The last thing I’ve ever felt is that he’s a monster.

  I just have to figure out how to get him to see that about himself.

  I stand in silence as he crosses the floor and slumps against the island. I argue with myself over what the best course of action is and what words to say. The man I know is in there and there has to be a way to coax him out.

  He purposely keeps his back to me, dismissing me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. I can tell he’s running from his feelings. I want to tell him that the further he runs, the worse it’s going to be when his demons catch up, but I know he won’t hear me. He’s blocked off hearing any advice about himself. Whatever I say has to be about me.

  Breaking the distance between us, I walk over and lay my hand on his shoulder. My heart aches when he visibly winces. “Grant, you can’t get rid of me by yelling. It won’t be that easy. I—”

  He reels on me, forcing the words I was about to say to fall flat. His brown eyes have gone black with rage and his chest is heaving. What is wrong with him? This is not my Grant.

  “I was fucking Melanie the entire time you’ve been in my life.” His face is contorted and I don’t recognize the man standing in front of me. “Do you want me to continue my long list of indiscretions, because trust me, they get worse.”

  I cower at his words and the fury emanating from him. I can’t do this. I rush for the door, hearing him say, “Thank fuck. She finally gets it.”

  His words stop me. He’s trying to hurt me so I’ll run away. How could I be so stupid?

  I turn and the surprise that flickers across his face is quickly replaced with annoyance. Good. I’m getting pissed. I care about him and it’s about time he hears it. He fucked Melanie and that makes me want to vomit, but I was never his girlfriend. I was the one who told him being his friend was enough and that I loved him. I need to put my money where my mouth is. I will not be another person who walks away or hurts him. Fuck that. I will show him how it’s supposed to be when someone truly cares for you.

  I step toward him and his eyes widen. “I understand you’ve done some shitty things and I won’t tell you I condone them or that I am in any way okay with them, but I am not going to give up on you. When I told you I loved you, that didn’t come with conditions.”

  He starts toward me, his mouth opening. I can just imagine the hatred he’s about to spew.

  “Shut your mouth, Grant Andrews, and fucking listen to me!” I’ve never been so forceful in my life, but I’m determined to get through to him, so I try a new approach. “You seem to think you aren’t worthy of me, but I bet the caterpillar feels that way as he eats his way through life, too. The butterfly is proof that you must live through a great deal of darkness to emerge into beauty.”

  “Don’t think some pansy ass talk about butterflies, rainbows, fucking unicorns, or any of your girly shit is going to suddenly make me think I’m a good guy. I know who I am and there is nothing redeeming about me. Now, get the fuck out!”

  “No!” I scream. “I will not leave until you hear what I have to say and when I leave, it will be with you understanding that I will be back.”

  “Don’t push me, Camilla.”

  “Or what? Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

  “You should be,” he hisses.

  “Maybe I should be,” I say, taking another step toward him, “but I’m not. You wanna know why?” I hesitate for a second, watching his face. That’s when I see it. He falters. “You love me, Grant Andrews. I don’t give a fuck if you can admit it or not. I know you feel it. I love you, too. That will keep me coming back, again and again. I’ll keep fighting to help you find the guy I know is in there. Push me away all you want. It will only make me push back harder.”

  He starts pacing, his hands ferociously gripping his hair.

  “You are a good man. I see it every time I look at you. You made me that picnic when I was missing home and when I was questioning you, we had our snowball fight. I have no doubt in my heart about the man you are. Please let me show you what I see. Don’t disappear into despair.”

  “Cammie, please go away,” he begs. His eyes start to mist over and I can tell he’s hitting his breaking point.

  “I’ll go for today, but I will be back, Grant. I will never give up on you. Please take care of yourself and reach out to Tucker or me if you need anything. We both care about you.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just watches me leave his apartment and I’m not sure whether my words have any impact.

  I call Tucker as I’m waiting for the elevator and I’m glad he answers on the first ring. “You need to talk to him. He’s so lost,” I say as I step through the opening doors. “I tried to get through, but I think I may have made things worse. I’m scared for him.”

  Tucker assures me he’ll give Grant a call, but he has to pick Adriana up from the airport, so he can’t head to Grant’s right now. My heart drops knowing he’ll be spending more time alone. I thank Tucker for checking in on him and ask him to call me after he speaks with him. Our call ends as I’m walking off the elevator onto the ground floor.

  Benny waves me over with a smile. “Hello again, Ms. Richards. Mr. Andrews called down and asked me to make sure you get home safe.”

  My heart soars thinking that Grant thought of me. That is something the old Grant would have done.

  “I’ve called the town car we reserve for special occasions to take you wherever you need to go. It will be here in just a minute.”

  “A cab would have been just fine,” I assure him.

  “When a resident asks for a favor, we make sure to take the best care, ma’am. It’s pulling up now. Let me tell Terrence the car is for you.”

  He walks past me and begins speaking with the doorman I’ve come to be so fond of. Terrence is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Maybe I’ve been a little harsh in my judgment of Benny. Normally he creeps me out, but tonight, he’s being so sweet.

  Benny motions me over and wishes me a goodnight as I walk out. Terrence opens the car door for me and we say our goodnights. I tell the driver my address and lay my head back on the seat. Knowing I have a little drive ahead of me, I close my eyes and try to let go of some of the tension from the night.

  Too bad all I can see is Grant’s bloodshot eyes.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Grant

  As if the visit from Cammie wasn’t enough of an emotional drain, I get a call from Tucker. He wants to know what I did to upset her. I want to tell him it’s none of his fucking business, but what I say is worse. I tell him to get her to leave me alone, that he owes me at least that. I didn’t mean to say it. It was a kneejerk reaction and I wish I could take it back the second the words leave my mouth.

  Apparently, my brother is sick of my shit, too. He tells me he doesn’t owe me a fucking thing and to stop acting like a fucking baby. We have a few more choice words, mine said out of anger, his all truth, before he finally tells me he’ll call me later and hopes I’ve smartened u
p by then. I stare at my phone, wondering why I’m such a douche.

  When my phone chirps, I hope it’s Tucker texting to tell me I’m a piece of shit. It seems crazy, but I just need him to start the conversation for me to make things right. The message I get makes my blood run cold. No! God, no! This can’t fucking be happening!

  Davyd: I have Buttercup. Get in the town car outside. Don’t contact anyone or I kill her.

  If he hurts her, I’ll never forgive myself. That motherfucker said he wasn’t done with me, but I never thought…this…I can’t believe…

  If u hurt her I will find u and kill u slowly.

  I have to be smart here. If I get in the car outside and no one knows, she and I are both in danger. Think, Grant.

  Davyd: Don’t threaten me or I will start cutting her now. Go get in the car. I’m watching u.

  Watching me? Fuck. What does that mean? I need more time. I need to know whether he actually has her and I need to get a message out for help. What do I do?

  I start to type back to Davyd when another text comes through.

  Davyd: I said no contacting anyone!

  How the fuck does he know I’m sending a message? Did he hack into my phone? I hit send so he’ll see I was texting him. I don’t know what to think.

  How do I know u have her?

  Davyd: I knew u wouldn’t go easily.

  A picture of Cammie with a gag in her mouth pops up on my phone. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I have to force back the feeling. She needs me to get her away from this maniac. I put the phone on my coffee table, head for the island to grab my keys, and leave my apartment without looking back.

  I wave at Benny as I walk by and say goodnight to Terrence as I duck into the car. I have no time for small talk tonight. Cammie’s life depends on me playing Davyd’s game. There’s dark glass dividing me from the driver. I want to ask him where the fuck he’s taking me, but I know he either hasn’t been told or he works for Davyd.