All I Have Left (14 page)

If you would have told me a year ago I would be crying so hard every night for a past that seemed forgotten, a memory I thought would never come back, I would probably have said that’s completely possible.

If you would have told me that I let a guy force me to give him head alongside the road, I would have laughed at you. I wasn’t that girl.

I wasn’t this girl, I knew that much, the one crying so hard she can’t catch her breath and scrubbing her face so hard it became raw.

But you see, in a way, I was that girl. I am that girl.

We pulled into The Point right beside Ethan’s Jeep and Grayson’s truck. As we walked behind the bar where the party was I was bombarded by Frankie’s embrace again. She threw Shane an evil look. I glanced over at Shane but his friend Lance was pulling him away already. I hated Lance almost as much as I hated Shane…almost.

“You really did a number on Grayson this morning,” she whispered in my ear as she used my shoulder to adjust the strap of her shoe. “It took us three hours to convince him to come tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything to him!” I defended, angry that she was accusing me of hurting him even though I knew what I did but it bothered me to hear it out loud. After everything today, the last thing I needed right now was this shit.

“And YOU—” I accused, pushing Frankie. “Why didn’t you tell me he was home when I saw you yesterday? Did it just slip your mind while you were whoring me up?” I seethed.

“Now hold on there, tiger. He asked me not to and seeing how we share the same DNA I sided with him,” she said carelessly with a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t understand why it matters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you need dirt on Ethan,” I seethed, glaring at her now.

Frankie glared back at me for a moment as if she was deciding if it was worth it or not, then she started pulling me toward the rest of the group. I could see Grayson standing there leaned up against the bar laughing with Ethan, a beer in one hand and a Jack n’ Coke in the other. I could see where the night was heading. I wanted so badly to go over there and tell him how sorry I was for pushing him away or tell him not to leave me alone with Shane but I couldn’t form the words, instead I hid behind what I thought was doing the right thing for all of us.

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes on my cheek.

My make-up didn’t work. She had noticed.

“Steam burn from work,” I shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Did you make the coffee with your face?”

I shrugged again, Shane’s stepped closer, as if it was a silent reminder I wasn’t going anywhere without him, and, to be careful not to say anything.

Frankie tried again to pull me with her. I would keep my distance from him.

“Frankie…I can’t go over there. If Shane sees me anywhere near Grayson, he
will
start a fight,” I pleaded.

Shane wanted nothing more than to start a fight tonight.

“Have you seen my brother since he returned? It would hardly be a fight Evie,” she reminded me, still tugging.

Frankie was right. Shane stood absolutely no chance against Grayson. I briefly contemplated how hot Grayson would look all hot and bothered after fighting.

“I can’t…um…”

How could I explain this? Right, I can’t.

“I can’t.” I gave her an apologetic smile and walked back over to Shane and Lance. As soon as I approached them Shane wrapped his arms possessively around my waist and pulled me closer. He leaned down to kiss my cheek reeking of whiskey already. It made me want to vomit and cry, curl into a ball and beg to forget my life. My eyes were drawn back to the bar but Grayson was gone already.

The night went on seemingly quiet until a drunk Grayson decided that he and Ethan took over for the Saturday night band.

Grayson looked right at me and winked during many of the verses; never taking his eyes off me during his guitar solo, while screams erupting from all the women. He had a way with the ladies that’s for sure, always did. In high school, Grayson usually had a harem of girls following him. Not to mention his fan fair at the baseball games he played in.

Another wink from him as my eyes caught his again.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, is as sexy as Grayson singing. Maybe him playing baseball, but still, his singing hit every high note on my body.

Grayson finished the song with a guitar solo.

Then they went onto sing “Do You Wanna Touch.”

I had to laugh that Grayson’s voice was nothing like it usually was as he tried to mimic Gary Glitter. And my brother, Jesus, he looked ridiculous trying to hump his guitar and give a little, “Hey!” every so often as back up.

Grayson was alive up there, so full of life and soul. I watched the way he moved, and the way his eyes refused to leave mine when he asked, “Do you wanna touch?”

Of course I wanted to touch. God! I’m sweating.

Those boys really knew how to put on a show. When it came to one of Ethan’s solos, however, he just started laughing. That’s my brother.

Next they did “Cowboy” because Grayson sounded identical to Kid Rock, and rocked the shit out of that song. Believe me, my eyes never left his moves up there. Or my brother who was doing some kind of rope the bull move that just looked ridiculous, but entertaining. Had me laughing.

Eventually Ethan was able to approach the microphone without bursting into laughter. “Hey, everyone, many of you know my friend Grayson Gomez?” everyone cheered, well everyone except Shane. Frankie screamed so loud I thought my eardrums were broken. “Whatta ya say we get him to sing a song?” he asked.

Again, the crowd screamed as though he was a fucking rock star or something. I mean Jesus this is Alabama where did all these people come from…I watched as a group of girls made their way over to the stage to drool over Grayson. The jealous side of me wanted to go rip their hair out or brand my name on his chest so they stayed away from him.

Jesus, can you say possessive Evie?

Grayson stepped to the microphone then looked around at everyone and sighed, shaking his head a little with a chuckle. He took a deep breath before thanking the crowd. “Here goes nothing I guess.”

Grayson was standing in front of a microphone. It was just him playing a guitar, no other instruments and it was perfect. He took a seat on a wooden stool that’d seen better days, his left leg propped up on the bottom rung of the stool, the other on the floor.

I watched him as the notes he played surrounded me as I waited for him to start singing. Grayson was staring out into the field and I wondered if he was looking for me. Part of me hoped he was.

When the opening notes softened, he leaned into the microphone and started singing. Immediately I was drawn in. Grayson’s eyes found mine as he started singing.

I knew the song. I knew it well.

I started crying before I could stop myself, tears running over bruised and battered cheeks. Damaged skin and raw emotions that would have never been bruised at the hands of the man on stage. I should have wiped them away, fearing Shane would see, but I couldn’t.

Here was a boy I was madly in love with, and had been for most of my life, singing in a crowd of innumerable people, but only singing for me.

He was a boy who held my innocence, my childhood in the palm of his hand. If I ever had doubts about the way Grayson felt about me, I didn’t anymore.

I watched him, rocking back and forth, full of emotion and intensity. I thought of our night right then, three long years ago, but still so vivid in my mind I could have told you every detail about that night.

I remember laughing when we fell on his bed, arms and legs tangling. Laughing when he couldn’t find the condom. The feeling I got when he entered me and his reaction, mine too. His gentleness, his embrace, his kisses and words.

The memories were taking over, and I soon found it hard to concentrate on anything else but him and that night, reliving a distant memory but one that was a vision that was as fresh as the tears covering my battered face.

Looking at him now, I could still see him hovering over me, the look of concentration on his face…

I had to stop myself.

There were hundreds of people in that field. He was looking, he was singing for me. Despite trying not to, I openly cried out loud when Grayson’s head leaned back and sang with so much feeling, that I felt his pain, his heartache. And when it ended, we were staring at each other, a familiar heartache talking to one another.

Looking at him now, I felt like everything had changed between us, but then again, nothing had changed at all. In most ways, we were still Evie and Grayson.

“Should I stop?”

“No. Don’t ever stop.”

His eyes closed after a few seconds, taking a deep breath, as if he remembered those words too, that night just as vividly.

Then he did exactly what I didn’t want him to do standing up on that stage.

“Evie, you—” He took a deep breath and smiled my favorite lazy smile and rubbed one hand on the back of his neck. “You have always been my best friend, and I love you. That song was for you.”

Everything went completely hazy when he said those words, meant only for me. They were the words I had always wanted, but prepared myself to never hear. The words settled over me like the sticky night’s air, heavy and weighing down my heart.

I wanted to tell him he was too late. But the truth was, he was just in time.

I felt every eye in that field, and Shane’s stare, shift off Grayson and move toward me, but I couldn’t make myself care. After everything today, I wanted this one moment. Just this one emotion where I was locked in a stare with him and we were the only two people here.

I put my life on hold for Grayson. I stopped living. I thought I lost the only love story I would ever have, before it began. But here it was, right in front of me, staring back at me, willing me to finish and get to my happily ever after.

The applause brought me back to reality. Everyone was clapping except Shane—who had a very tight grip on my hip that was starting to hurt. It felt like my hip was being pulled by a vise grip. I tried to pull away a little, only to be pushed against him tighter. “Don’t, Evie.”

“Seriously, Shane,” I shouted. “You’re hurting me.” I tried to pull away but fell on the ground.

Shane grabbed for me when I fell again, and then he started laughing at me, and of course Lance joined in. I could feel my face burning with anger, the tears flowing.

Shane reached for me to help me up but I shook his hand off and got up on my own, walking toward Ethan. I wasn’t about to go with him again. I couldn’t.

Shane didn’t let me get far before he ran after me grabbing my arm forcefully, only to yank me back to the ground by tripping over some rocks. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Shane stop!” I cried, though it came out half-strangled.

He was dragging me through the gravel now and I could feel my legs being scraped by the sharp gravel as he pulled me toward his car, burning my skin as though I had rug burns.

“Get your fucking hands off my sister, Shane, before I remove them!” Ethan growled. Josh materialized out of nowhere to stand beside him threateningly.

Shane tightened his grip instead as Lance stepped beside him—Ethan only inches from his face now.

“Ethan, just leave it alone. I’m fine!” I tried to get back up, brushing a few pieces of gravel off my bloody legs. I was swiftly pulled up by two warm familiar arms, only to be thrown backwards toward Ethan when Shane reached for Grayson’s hold on me. It only took one punch and Shane was against the wall. Grayson didn’t waste any time, instead, he had Shane slammed against the wall.

“Told you…” Frankie whispered.

Momentarily distracted by the way Grayson looked although, livid, he was incredibly hot, breathing heavy, the muscles in his chest flexing. His furious expression made it hard to focus on anything besides him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Shane yelled at Grayson struggling to get loose, his arm pushing against his chest.

He wouldn’t. No, he wasn’t going to until someone stopped this. Shane’s head snapped back against the wall. “She may be sucking your dick right now but she belongs to me.”

“Grayson!” I yelled, but he didn’t stop, no, he couldn’t. Instead he pressed harder on his windpipe smashing his head against the bricks.

Shane smiled despite the blood pouring from his face. “Yeah, she’s suckin’ it alright.” He gave Grayson a hard shove that got him nowhere put slammed against the wall again.

“You’re such a
fucking pussy
,” Grayson said to him, low and surprisingly controlled, his bloody white knuckled hands fisting tighter in Shane’s shirt.

I was so pissed at him. So fucking pissed. He wouldn’t look at me. I wasn’t sure he was even breathing. He had no right to say that. No right.

“Let go of him!” I tried to shove Grayson away, it didn’t work.

When he finally looked back at me over his shoulder, I wished he hadn’t. “What the fuck do you see in him?” He’d never taken this tone with me. Never.

“Let him go.” I dropped my eyes from his, afraid of his reaction.