by Renee Dyer
News of me being Tucker’s brother spread like wildfire. The tabloids spread many false reports. Some of which we had our legal team rescind because they claimed sexual or physical abuse in our homes, stating that was why we didn’t grow up together. Others we left alone because they weren’t worth trying to falsify. Eddie is writing the true story for the network.
They decided to make our story into a mini-series. I found that out in the hospital, as well as finding out my brother paid off the money they were still asking for. The network dropped the amount drastically, but it was still more than I could afford. Even with the investments I made with my inheritance, it would have bankrupted me. I told Tucker I would pay him all the money back and he laughed at me, telling me he wouldn’t accept it. All he wants is for me to live a happy life.
He doesn’t understand. I won’t be happy knowing there is money owed between us.
The network approached Tucker after the kidnapping. They wanted to know whether a movie deal could be made, but must have known I’d tell them to fuck off. Guess they underestimated Tucker’s ability to be an asshole when offended because he told them the same thing. There is no way I would let Cammie relive that by re-telling it or seeing it brought to life for the cameras. I imagine Tucker feels the same way.
My final month in Vancouver wasn’t uncomfortable. It should have been with the jeers, threats, and shoves I received, but Grams stayed the entire month and the first two weeks I was in L.A. She and I took that time to really get to know each other—no bullshit, no lies, just putting everything on the table. I found out what complete and unconditional love is.
I told her I slept with Davyd to get information on Tucker. It was no secret between her and I that my hatred for my brother took me to dark places, but this was the final thing I had kept buried, hoping I would never have to say it out loud. I know Davyd told Cammie, but even she didn’t know the full truth behind it. Grams watched me with patience while I told the whole story of how it started out as my need to take Tucker down and morphed into him having control over me. I finally admitted what had been in my mind since we were trapped—it was my fault. I let him touch me willingly in the beginning, so it gave off the message that I was his.
“Oh, dear boy. It is not your fault. There is something broken in Davyd, and people like him, that can’t be fixed. Let me ask you a question. If you were intimate with a woman, who one day told you she no longer wanted to be, would you force yourself on her?”
“Of course not.”
“Point proven.”
“It’s not that easy, Grams.”
“Why not?” she asks, her voice gentle.
I contemplate her question, thinking over the real problem, and answer her honestly. “I don’t know how to be myself anymore. I’m not used to being afraid, but that’s just it. I’m scared. If someone touches my shoulder, I jump. Sounds startle me. The nightmares feel real. I don’t know how to go back to the person I was and I’m afraid I’ll never be able to.”
She puts her hand over mine and gives me the smile that always offers me comfort. She’s the only person I could have this conversation with.
“In these tragic situations, Grant, two types of people come forth. There are victims and there are survivors. Victims use tragedies as excuses to whine and manipulate. Everything that happens in their life is because of the tragedies that have befallen them. They can’t take responsibility for themselves and want everyone to feel bad for them. And sometimes, they do bad things to others when things don’t go their way. I feel that you used to be this type of person and had you continued, I would have been very sad for you.”
“Grams?”
“Shh. Let me finish. Survivors take a beating, but they always get back up. They fight to get better and take control of their lives. Survivors prosper and grow to help others because the knowledge they gain from standing up in the face of adversity shines from them. I see this in you now. I see a man with troubled eyes, but behind them are a million questions. Those questions are your fight to get better, my boy.”
I shake my head at her because I don’t see a fighter at all. I’m weak and I’m afraid…all the time.
“I know you don’t see it right now. You feel like the victim, but I promise you, you are a survivor. It seems like too much to go through, but you will survive this. You will heal, you will even love, and I will be by you every step of the way.”
“I don’t know. I feel so…broken.” With someone else, it would be embarrassing to admit my feelings, but with Grams, it’s freeing.
“I feel like I’ve said this to many people in my life, whether it was over a broken heart, a grieving widow, or even to you now, the words holds true. In order to heal, you have to first be broken. It’s a universal law.”
I hope her words are true for me.
“Thanks, Grams, for listening.”
“Anytime. Now, let’s get you some food. You’ve gotten too skinny.” She winks at me and heads for my kitchen and I anticipate the wonderful aromas that will be wafting around my apartment soon.
Grams and I became very close. It still shocks me how easily I accepted her into my life and heart. It wasn’t just a surprise forming a relationship with my grandmother, but finding out that every Stavros owns a piece of Blue, the winery owned by Grams and her late husband. She showed me pictures of my grandfather and herself and the vineyard in Greece. It’s stunning. She tried to pay me restitution for all the years I should have been part of the company, but I wasn’t comfortable with that and I made that clear to her.
I wasn’t comfortable getting money from Blue without earning it either, so I asked her what I could do. Tucker and I are now shooting commercials and will be the faces of the American branch they want to launch this year.
It’s funny how three months can change your life and still, things don’t change at all. I have a great relationship with my grandmother, which I never thought would happen. I’m part of a family business, another new aspect of my life. Tucker and I have started working on our relationship. It’s touch and go because we’re both stubborn and have tempers, but in quite a few ways, we’re a lot alike—not that we’ll admit that to each other.
I’m still acting. In fact, I’m the lead in a new movie Eddie wrote. It’s about a baseball player trying to cover up that he has cancer, but it comes out right before his team goes into the playoffs. The script is extremely powerful. I was surprised when Eddie asked me to audition for the part.
Tucker is in the movie, too. He’s my agent. It’s weird to be acting together again. I’m not trying to sabotage him this time and his character isn’t my enemy.
Rumors spread quickly that I’m in a relationship with my leading lady, Sian Bliss. It’s not that she hasn’t propositioned me seven ways to Sunday, but there hasn’t been anyone who’s caught my eye since Cammie. It’s too bad I’m not into her, because she is smoking hot. I tried telling my dick to get with the program and just bang the fuck out of her, but even he has been sad since sending my buttercup home. It amazes me how the paparazzi can make a mountain out of a mole hill. All I did was open her fucking car door for her.
Since when is it a crime to be a gentleman?
I guess since I’m me and I have a reputation for being a bastard. Damn all my hanging around with Grams…
Now that I have Cammie on my brain, she won’t go away anytime soon. I’m furious with her. I kicked her out of my life so she could have a great one. She goddamn went back to Ohio and started working at a diner. Seriously? I thought she’d go back to school or maybe decide to go to New York and hit up Broadway. With her talent, she’s capable of anything, but not my buttercup. She’s pouring coffee and serving pancakes and I’m sure she’s doing it with that gorgeous smile of hers.
Dammit, I miss her.
“Grant, hello. Earth to asshat.”
Hands wave in front of my face and I have to blink a few times to focus in on Tucker, who’s smiling like he knows a big ass secret.
&nbs
p; “What the hell are you grinning about douchenozzle?”
He bellows out a laugh that has the few crew members left on set looking our way. “I was going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner, but you were pretty lost in your head there. Thinking about her again?” he asks.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I try to walk around him as Eddie walks over. Great. Fuckface number two.
“What’s up? Did you ask him about dinner?” he asks Tucker.
“I was going to, but he was daydreaming about Cammie again.”
I roll my eyes at my brother’s attempt to goad me. “I was running lines in my head, but Mr. Immature over here seems to think he’s amusing,” I lie, not able to talk to them about how much I wish I could see her right this minute.
“You know she misses you,” Eddie pipes in.
“She asks about you every time we talk,” Tucker adds.
“She’s better off without me,” I reply.
“Poppycock,” Tucker blurts.
I laugh. “Been hanging out with Grams too much?”
“Maybe, but it’s true. Look, Grant, you did some shitty things, but you understand they were wrong and you’ve been trying to better your life. Underneath it all, you’re a good guy. Cammie could always see that. Don’t punish her for being right.”
Eddie nods as Tucker speaks and I want to punch them both for teaming up against me. Do they not remember what she went through? Davyd fucking marked her. I saw her blood from where he bit through her skin, the marks he dug into her flesh. Those images will never leave my mind.
“Guys, you don’t know what she went through.”
“We do,” Tucker says, interrupting what I was saying. “She told us. She wouldn’t tell us what he did to you. She said that was your story to tell, but she told us everything he did to her and we’re sorry you had to see that, but did you ever think she needs you to help her heal? She loves you.”
I can’t look my brother in the eye when he says she loves me. If I do, he’ll know I love her, too. I’ve only admitted that to Grams and she told me at some point, I have to follow my heart. Right now, my heart is too broken to understand what it’s saying.
“Go bring our girl home,” Eddie says.
“Our girl?” I ask. It’s not a jealousy thing. I just don’t really feel a part of anything and the way they include me throws me sometimes.
“Our girl, your girl. I don’t care how you look at it. She belongs here. We all care about her and she adores every one of us. She’s happy with us. She loves you like Tucker said and we’re her other two best friends. She loves acting, which she’s not doing right now. She’s an empty shell. Go get her and bring her back to life. Give her the life you both deserve.”
I just shake my head. Cammie may deserve that life, but I don’t.
Chapter Forty Six
Cammie
Five months, one week, and three days. That’s how long it’s been since I saw Grant and my last memory was of him being rushed into an ambulance. I planned to go into his hospital room and pour my heart out to him, tell him that I was stupid to say we were only friends, but I never got that chance. I’ve asked myself time and again what the hell happened and only one answer comes back to me.
Grant happened.
He got into his own head and convinced himself that he was my downfall. I imagine he feels responsible for what Davyd did. I know just about everyone in my life blames him. I’ve been trying to make people understand that Davyd was the sicko, not Grant, since I returned home. It’s like talking to a brick wall.
When Tucker pulled me aside and told me Grant didn’t want to see me, my heart dislodged from my chest and tumbled to the ground where Tucker proceeded to stomp on it. I kept a brave face and told him I understood, but I didn’t. Not really. We had just been through hell together and he was shipping me off to deal with the aftermath by myself. Didn’t he care about what that would do to me?
I tried to think of where he was coming from, think of the guilt he must be feeling. I told myself he was doing what he thought was best. I tried to convince myself it didn’t hurt, but it did. He fucking gutted me. Pain turned into anger and anger morphed into desperation. The longer I go without hearing from him, the more broken I become.
It’s worse when I talk to Tucker, when I ask whether Grant has asked about me and Tucker honestly answers no. Grant has just cut me from his life, but I can’t do that with him. I find myself scouring the internet and tabloids…hanging on every word Tucker or Eddie says about him.
Tucker told me they’re the new face of Blue and I’m thrilled they’re doing something as a family. Grant needs that connection. Eddie hired him as the lead in his new movie. I wanted to throw up when Eddie told me that. I asked why he didn’t ask me to try out for the female role and he said he was helping Grant heal. Does he not see I need healing, too? He hired Sian Bliss, the new bombshell on the scene. I’ve read the tabloids and I know she’s working her way into Grant’s bed. I try to comfort myself with the thought that I was the only one who ever made him care, but knowing his hands may be on her perfectly sculpted ass makes fire burn through my veins.
How could he just move on and not ever check in? I thought I was his goddamn buttercup?
He’s bettering himself while I…I went to work at an old friend’s diner. The sad part to that is the reason I chose the diner. It’s named Grant’s and the wait staff wears a t-shirt with the name across the chest. I needed that t-shirt to breathe. It makes me feel like he’s here, holding me.
My parents didn’t understand. They thought I was substituting one Grant for another, but apparently, they either didn’t remember the kid I went to high school with or hadn’t been to Grant’s for a while. Grant Hennesey and Grant Andrews are two very different men and that’s a big reason as to why I can work there. My old friend is portly and balding. His green eyes in no way remind me of the man who haunts my every thought. He was never book smart, but he could always cook and he has a heart of gold. My coming home was perfect for him because he had a waitress about to have a baby.
As sad as I am, it has been nice to see old friends and people I grew up with. It’s a small farming town so everyone knows each other. It was a big deal when I came home. They threw a party to welcome me back. I wasn’t in a partying mood, but I plastered a smile on my face and thanked everyone for caring.
The chatter about me being famous finally died down by the end of summer. I don’t know how many times I explained I was far from it. When people ask about the other actors, I always answer as vaguely as possible. It feels weird being asked that kind of stuff. The ladies always want to know if Tucker is as gorgeous in person as he is on TV, which I do answer yes to. I’ve been asked many times what it was like to kiss him and everyone is disappointed just as many times when I say he’s like a brother so it’s gross. When they ask about Grant, I feel myself shut down. I think I sent out a vibe, too, because questions about him quickly came to a stop.
Yep, life here has pretty much gone back to normal…well, except my depressive need for a man who obviously doesn’t give two shits about me. It’s only more depressing because I blew off a great guy for something that doesn’t exist.
The lunch shift is booming today and my tips are rocking. I think I may pick up that new top I was eyeing at Violet’s on Main Street the other day, I think to myself as I go grab another Diet Coke for Gertie. The bell rings, signaling a new customer. I shout over my shoulder that I’ll be right there. I drop the drink with Gertie, tell her to let me know if she needs anything else, and head to the front.
A blast from my past is standing there, smiling at me with his perfect, white teeth. Jeff Cooper, my high school boyfriend, is all grown up and he looks good. Actually, he looks fantastic and has filled out in all the right places. He was a good looking kid last year, but this past year was excellent to him. I think he put on thirty pounds of muscle. He’s no longer lanky in any way. His blonde hair is cut short and his blue eye
s are sparkling.
“Jeff, hey,” I say, lamely.
“I heard you were back,” he says, lifting me into a hug.
I have to force myself not to stiffen. Contact is still hard for me. I’ve been driving to the next town over to see a therapist, but I can’t say I’ve made any progress.
“You look great,” we both say at the same time, causing awkward laughter.
I step back and offer to seat him. He follows me to the counter and sits to Rowdy, in the place where I set his menu. Rowdy is a local and no one knows why he has that nickname. He’s the most mellow man I know. I take his order and let him know I’ll be back with his drink.
We chat on and off throughout my shift and it’s like time never separated us, but for me, he’s like an old friend coming back for a visit. It’s nice to have that comfort. I see the way a couple of elderly ladies smile and wink at us. They see young love in bloom and I don’t have the heart to crush them. They’ll see in a few days that Jeff and I are not an item.
He tells me he’s home, visiting for the Columbus Day Weekend, but he’s heading back to college Monday night. He’s enjoying school and has met some interesting people. He laughs when he says that and I let him enjoy his inside joke. We don’t talk much about my time away. I think he can sense it’s uncomfortable for me and I appreciate the reprieve from the questions. It seems everyone I run into has at least one.
“You know, Cammie, I only go to school a little over two hours from here. It’s been so fun catching up.”
Oh, shit. I see where this is going.
I reach my hand over his, stopping what he was saying.
“It was nice catching up with you, too, Jeff, but my heart is with someone else. He may not see it right now and he may not ever, but it wouldn’t be fair to start something with you when I can’t give it my all. I’m sorry.” I can’t look at him because I feel like a lousy person.