“Seems like he’s got it all figured out then.”
“Honestly”, she began, “I think everyone is overreactin’. I’m a big girl—I can take care of myself.”
“Honey, nobody’s questioning your capabilities—or your courage—for that matter. It’s your safety that concerns us.”
“I understand that, but… the man that did this… well, surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back…?”
Cupping the back of her neck, he ran his callused thumb along her cheek. “The arsonist is obviously afraid of being caught and with your pictures exposing him in the act, he most likely felt you were a threat. Trying to probe the mind of a maniac and rationalize his choices and decisions isn’t my expertise. But I can guarantee one thing: any man that hits a woman is a coward. He waited until you were alone and defenseless—that won’t happen again. We’re not gonna give him the opportunity to hurt you a second time.”
Olivia ran her fingers through her hair and released a heavy sigh. “Why does this kind of stuff always happen to me? Damn it! I feel like my entire life I’ve been trying to outrun an endless black cloud—one tragedy after the next—”
Before he could question the meaning behind her statement, Ty and Kendall emerged from the patio, their laughter and flirtatious interplay an indication that they’d most likely strayed from “Pool Upkeep 101.”
“You know what?” Olivia announced as she rose from the couch. “I think I’m gonna take a nice, hot shower…”
Grant eyed Olivia as she walked away. There was something different about her demeanor. She’d been seconds away from revealing the pain from her past, and her sudden urge to take a hot shower was merely a cover.
Olivia paused just before reaching the hall, looking over her shoulder. “Thank you both for stoppin’ by”, she said as she pasted her “everything-is-fine smile.”
Who did she think she was fooling? He wondered. It’d been just over two months since he’d stumbled upon her at the beach and in that time, he’d been given the opportunity to get to know her well. He knew her, knew that the smile she unveiled moments before disappearing down the hall wasn’t genuine—it was forced. It lacked the radiance he was use to, exposing the bone-deep agony she kept hidden so eloquently.
He prayed that the brilliance would return to her emerald eyes, prayed that her contagious spirit would prevail. He couldn’t take away her pain, but he could love her. And that’s exactly what he planned on doing.
Following the orders of her overprotective sibling, Olivia arrived at the fire station the following morning with a carefree smile adorned to her nearly healed face and an old outdated 35mm camera in tow. She’d spent the better part of the day observing the everyday happenings at the fire station: washing the fire engine, performing various training exercises, preparing lunch. She’d captured the “brotherhood” behind the scenes; the moments that the general public weren’t at privy to see.
The fire station had always felt like home. She’d always felt a part of this family—an extended member. But today… today she was a part of the “brotherhood”, too.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.
This was her family.
Olivia thought back to the theater fire. She had been seconds away from witnessing a living nightmare: a roof collapse with four men she cared about still inside. Thankfully they’d escaped unharmed. But what about the next time?
Closing her eyes, she tried to push the thoughts from her head. The arsonist had to be caught—soon. Because although she was a master at exuding courage and strength, she knew she lacked the fortitude to mourn another loss.
Grunting, Grant pushed the heavy weighted barbell away from his broad chest and secured it in place. Lifting weights had always served two particular purposes: it kept his body in shape and kept his mind clear. Today he was lifting for the latter.
Having Olivia here at the fire station was bittersweet. He was partially at ease with the knowledge that she was safe, but as always was the case with Olivia, the constant need to touch her consumed him.
How many times had he lost his focus in a vivid reverie?
Too many.
How often had he clenched his fists to keep himself from reaching for her when she strolled by?
Too often.
How frequently had he bit his tongue to prevent himself from telling her exactly how he felt about her?
Too frequently.
Before he could further psychoanalyze his mind, Ty waltzed into the small weight room. Without uttering a word, he stepped onto the treadmill wedged in the corner and began a slow jog. Rising from the bench, Grant reached for his towel and wiped the moisture from his face and neck, Ty’s steady glare boring holes into him.
“Everything alright?” Grant finally asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit—what’s up?”
Ty hesitated for a few long beats. “Just got into it with Liv.”
Grant sat back down on the edge of the bench and leaned his forearms on his knees. “About…?”
“Larry was supposed to cover my shift tonight, but his wife got called in at the hospital. Apparently there’s a shortage of nurses”, he explained wryly. “I cleared it with Chief Handler and then told Liv she’d have to bunk here tonight… Let’s just say she didn’t take the news very well.”
“Well, in her defense, she’s a grown woman—capable of making her own decisions.”
Ty slammed his hand on the stop button, abruptly ending his leisurely run, and then leapt off the treadmill. “Yeah, speaking of ‘decisions’, whose idea was it to sneak behind my back a begin dating my sister?
Grant stood from the bench and watched as Ty advanced toward him. “It wasn’t like that—”
“Really?” he questioned as he invaded Grant’s personal space. “You don’t have the best reputation with women, bro.” To give his next point emphasis, he pointed his index finger and jabbed it into Grant’s sternum. “You’re exactly the kind of guy she doesn’t need in her life!”
Suppressing the urge to ram his fist down Ty’s throat, he inhaled a deep cleansing breath. “Again, it wasn’t like that. We—”
“So you’re gonna stand here and deny that you fucked my little sister…?” Ty watched as Grant looked away. Of course he wasn’t going to deny it—he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. “Yeah… that’s what I figured…” Ty took a step back and then turned to walk away.
“She’s not just another girl, Ty… She’s different.”
With his back still turned, Ty shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I know. She’s had one hell of a life—endured more tragedy in twenty-seven years than most folks experience in a lifetime. She’s very different…”
“So, what about tonight?” Grant asked curiously.
Finally turning around to face him, he answered, “What about it?”
Grant wrapped the hand towel around his neck and tugged on the ends. “Well, she doesn’t want to sleep here at the station and we both agree she shouldn’t be alone… She can stay with me tonight—”
“Like hell she will!”
“Look, I know you’re upset with me right now, but—”
“Upset? No, I’m not upset—I’m fucking pissed!”
Grant threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine—you’re ‘fucking pissed’ at me. But this isn’t about you or me… It’s about Olivia and keeping her safe.” He observed his best friend: his clenched jaw and intense glare reflected anger, betrayal, contempt.
Ty ran his hand through his hair and replied through clenched teeth. “Fine. But do me a favor: keep your dick in your pants…”
CHAPTER 18
“You can put your bag in the last bedroom on the left”, Grant said as he pointed down the hall. He’d made a brief pit stop at Olivia’s after leaving the fire station to allow her the opportunity to pack an overnight bag. And then had set his sights on spending the evening alone with the woman he loved.
Olivia
trekked down the hall and entered the last bedroom on the left…
Grant’s room.
The hardwood floor creaked beneath her feet as she drifted toward the night stand. Setting her bag on the floor, her eyes skimmed the room. The walls were painted a deep blue-gray: the color of the sky just before a storm. The bed was covered in a crisp white comforter and on the opposite wall, a sliding glass door opened to the expansive deck.
It looked like a nautical paradise… Clean lines. No clutter—just the essentials. Her lips tilted in a smile. Waking up to this view would be conducive to her recovery—she just prayed that when her head finally reached the pillow, the serene environment would protect her from her hellish nightmares…
Grant stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables to toss into the stir fry he’d quickly thrown together, his mind steadily focused on the woman he’d sent to his bedroom. It felt good to have her here—like her presence filled the emptiness in his house.
In his life.
Before he could delve into the seriousness of his feelings, the beautiful “missing link” emerged from the hall and joined him in the kitchen.
“Whatcha makin’?”
“Chicken stir fry. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
Grant spooned rice into two bowls and topped it with the spicy chicken and vegetable mixture and then motioned for her to step onto the deck. He followed behind, Dexter mirroring his movement, ready to catch a bite with his salivating mouth in the event that a piece of chicken spilled over the edges.
“Wow, this looks delicious!” She stated. “My compliments to the chef!”
“Thanks.”
“So, I’m curious. How did you manage to convince Ty that staying here was a good arrangement?”
Grant shrugged his shoulders, hoping he appeared composed; his confrontation with Ty had been anything but calm. “It wasn’t that difficult, really. He couldn’t leave the fire station tonight; you refused to stay there; I offered a solution.”
“Yes, but—”
“We both have one common goal: your safety”, he said directly. She winced at his surly tone and he immediately felt like an ass. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so—”
“Harsh?”
“Yeah, and rude…”
There was an awkward moment of silence between them before she finally spoke again. “So I’m here because you feel guilty about what happened to me?—is that it?”
Grant dropped his fork in his bowl and intertwined their fingers. How did he reassure the woman he’d fallen for how much he cared without mentioning the three words on the tip of his tongue? “You’re here because I want you to be… Please tell me you believe that.”
“I do now”, she whispered.
The remainder of dinner felt more comfortable, their conversation casual and lighthearted compared to their earlier discussion. He’d even managed to make her laugh a bit, the sound reverberating through him like an elaborate symphony.
After their bowls were emptied they retreated back to the kitchen. Olivia placed her dish in the sink and then began gathering the wok and cutting board he’d used to prepare their meal.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Cleanin’ the kitchen.”
“The hell you are!” he said as he retrieved the wok from her grasp.
“C’mon, Grant, I’m not helpless!” She explained.
“I never said you were.”
Olivia crossed her arms and tilted her chin up to look at him. “Not directly, but that’s what you’re implying… C’mon, it’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me already.”
Grant placed the wok in the sink and then reached for her. Giving in to his embrace, Olivia nestled against him, resting her forehead against his solid chest.
After placing a kiss on the top of her head, he tilted her chin with his fingertips. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you take a shower, slip into something a little more comfortable and then meet me on the couch. I’ll open a bottle of wine and we can watch a movie.”
“Okay”, she managed, just above a whisper.
Drifting down the hall, Olivia entered the bedroom and rummaged through her bag for her toiletries. Clutching the various bottles against her body, she toddled toward the bathroom and slowly removed her clothes.
Since her attack, she’d purposely refrained from looking at herself, her blemished skin a painful reminder of that horrific night. But standing in front of the full-length mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door, she allowed herself a peek. The bruises on her face, wrists, and torso had faded into a subtle shade of yellow-green and the cuts she’d sustained on her hands and knees were on the mend.
She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. She was alone—she didn’t have to pretend. The expression on her face and the insecure gleam in her eyes frightened her.
Unable to view the spiritless form before her any longer, she stepped into the shower and drew the curtain. She stood underneath the blazing liquid, washing her hair and then her body. She scoured her skin until her flesh appeared pink, felt raw. But no matter how diligently she scrubbed, she couldn’t cleanse her mind.
The masked ravager lurked in every dark corner of her conscious: stealing her soul, looting her liveliness, raiding her resolve. How had she managed to end up here again? How could she have allowed vulnerability to invade her being?
She barely felt the sting of scorching water streaming down her tender flesh as she rinsed the suds from her body, barely recalled the moment scalding moisture mingled with her tears. Overwhelmed with fear and despair, she leaned her back against the wall and slowly slid down until she sat on the floor of the tub, knees to her chest. Hugging her legs, she held on as the dam of emotions burst inside her. Sealed in a sauna, sheltered from prying eyes, she surrendered.
Finally finished in the kitchen, he opened a bottle of merlot and filled two glasses before replacing the cork. He probably should’ve told Olivia the truth: Ty knew about their relationship and needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled. But Grant didn’t want to upset her. She had enough worries, the last thing she’d needed was another burden to shoulder.
He wanted to protect her—not just from the maniac that’d attacked her—but from every source of anguish threatening her peace of mind. He’d gladly endure the physical and emotional pain she’d suffered if—
—Grant looked at his watch. It’d been thirty minutes since she’d disappeared from the kitchen to take a shower. Marching down the hall, he entered his bedroom and heard the water still running in the bathroom. As he journeyed further into his room, he heard something else, too: the unmistakable sound of a grief-stricken woman, sobbing.
“Olivia…? Everything alright…?” he called out. When there was no response, he turned the knob and gently nudged the door open. The sound of her sobs echoed against the walls of the small room, piercing his heart, infuriating his mind.
Through the transparent vinyl shower curtain, he saw her. “Livvy, baby”, he uttered as he rushed toward the silhouette huddled on the floor of the bathtub. In one smooth motion, he quickly shoved the curtain out of his way and turned off the water.
The image of this beautiful woman huddled into a ball, arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees, shoulders heaving as she released her tears, would forever be etched in his memory.
Despair had ravaged her so completely, she hadn’t realized he was hovering above her until she felt his warm hands under her arms, lifting her to her feet.
“Damn it, Livvy!—you feel like an ice cube!” He realized that she’d been so blindsided by her emotions that she’d collapsed onto the floor of the tub and wept until the searing water had turned frigid, her mind in such turmoil, she hadn’t noticed.
Reaching for a towel, he swaddled her in it and then swept her shivering body into his arms. Placing her on the edge of his bed, he knelt in front of her.
She was breaking his heart.
&nb
sp; Grant peered into her red swollen eyes and gently brushed his knuckles against her bruised cheek. “Livvy, baby, talk to me…”
“I’m so sorry”, she finally whispered.
“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about… It’s okay to cry.”
Olivia shook her head in disagreement. She didn’t cry—at least not in front of anyone. Tears were meant to be shed in private. “No, it’s not—it’s weak.”
“Is that what you think?” he asked in disbelief. “Livvy, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You’ve been through hell the last ten days. Crying isn’t a sign of weakness—hell, I’d be worried if you didn’t! Don’t shut me out. Talk to me…”
Olivia hesitated at first; she wasn’t accustomed to sharing her feelings—her fears. But somehow at that moment, she felt safe. “I can’t get the image of him out of my head: the weight of him sittin’ on me, his grasp around my wrists, the smell of whiskey on his breath…” Olivia closed her eyes as a single tear descended down her bruised cheek.
“Make me forget, Grant”, she uttered softly.
Releasing the towel, it settled into a puddle around her waist and with both hands suddenly free, she cupped his face. She inched forward until she felt the warmth of his mouth against her icy lips.
Her lips were so cold. He told himself that the kiss was merely a way to increase her body temperature—nothing more. But as soon as her tongue collided against his, it was his temperature that rose—as well as other parts of his anatomy. He could almost taste her fear, her anguish and with every soft sweep of his tongue, the potency dissipated.
As much as he wanted her, as much as he wanted to steer her mind away from the monstrous memories that haunted her—he couldn’t—not like this. He couldn’t ignore his conscience. He repeatedly heard Ty’s voice in his head, warning him to “keep his dick in his pants.”
With every ounce of willpower he had, he covered her hands with his, peeling them away from his face, disconnecting their mating mouths.
Picture Perfect (Butler Island) Page 15