Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (24 page)

“That’s different.  Adriana isn’t sleeping with another man,” he growls at me.

“Why do you think she needed another man, Tucker?  Did you ever stop to think about that?  I’m not trying to pick a fight, but I’m telling you this because I need you…you and Eddie to understand something.  Grant has been the best friend I’ve had since I got here.  You may all see a piece of shit when you look at him, but with me, he’s not that.  He’s fun and caring and he would have done anything to make me happy.  I bet he was that way for Victoria, too.  You shouldn’t judge what you don’t know.”

Tucker opens his mouth to say something, but Eddie puts his hand on his arm, stopping whatever he would have said.  I’m grateful for him stepping in.

“I trust your opinion, Cammie.  I have to be honest and tell you I don’t trust Grant, but if you say he’s not a bad guy with you, then all I can do is step back and hope you’re right.  Know this, though, if you become friends again and he hurts you, you will not stop me from beating his ass into the ground.  I can guarantee that warning goes for Tucker, too.”

Eddie gives me the eye and then looks at Tucker.  Tucker nods at him and looks at me.  I nod at both of them.  An unspoken agreement goes around that we’ll all agree to disagree about Grant, but at least they’re realizing I need to make my own decisions about him.

“I’m sorry if I was harsh on you about Victoria,” I say, feeling embarrassed for publicly starting an argument with my friend.

“Don’t sweat it.  You know what they say.  Truth hurts.  Your burger is getting cold.”  Tucker smiles at me and I know we’re going to move past this whole night.

I grab my burger, take a bite, and decide tomorrow is the day I start to figure out how to help Grant feel like he can be my friend again.  Sitting here with these two guys, I know, in my heart, I need to give Grant this feeling of peace and happiness, too.

Chapter Twenty Four

Grant

“Hey, baby.”

“Why are you calling?” I ask in a low, controlled voice.

“Your birthday is next month.”  I hear the hesitation in her voice.

“And?”

Again, there’s hesitation and I smile.

“I-I was thinking maybe it would be enough time for you to request time off from work so you can come home to celebrate.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I miss you.  It’s been so long since you’ve been home.”

Is this how she wants to play the game tonight?  Guilt me?  You have to have a conscience for that to work and I threw mine out a long time ago.

“That’s because you’re a whore and you betrayed me.”

“Grant, please,” she begs.  “Can’t we get passed this already?  What will it take for you to forgive me?”

“Give me one good reason why I should do that.  Just one and I’ll consider what you’re asking.”

Her excitement is evident through the line and I smirk.  So easily manipulated.

“I’m your mother and I’m sorry.”

“You’re no mother, Gloria, not to me or anyone else.  You’re a selfish slut who drugged and took advantage of men to invent the life you wanted.  I’m just the byproduct of your schemes.  You let one man believe he was my father and kept me from the man who was, all so you could have what you wanted.  That’s not a mother.”

I don’t raise my voice. I never do. My voice is cool and detached—exactly how I feel about her.  I allow the iciness to slip past my lips and the shards to fly through the lines to make a direct hit into her heart.  People might think after all these years that I take her weekly calls because I hold onto some kind of love for her, but the truth is…I answer because I live to hear the defeat in her voice.  Hearing her cry and knowing I still don’t forgive her is music to my ears.

“How can you be so cruel?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” I chide.

“Have you spoken to your brother yet?” she asks.  She’s never asked this before.

“I don’t have a brother.  I have no family.  You made sure of that.”

“I’m sorry,” she cries out, the sobs beginning to take over her words.

Peace washes over me at hearing the only thing I want to hear from her—pain.  She deserves no forgiveness or comfort from me. 

“Someday you’ll learn to stop calling me.”

I hang up with the sound of her sniffling in my ear. 
Pure heaven.
  I head for my kitchen and grab a beer to celebrate another night of breaking her down.

It’s amazing how calm I feel after I talk to her, how her tears bring me such serenity.  I know I should feel some kind of remorse for hurting her for all these years, but I feel nothing but happiness each and every time I twist the knife in a little deeper.  Maybe one of these days she’ll finally start to understand the magnitude of hatred I feel for her.

There’s no coming back from it.

The next morning, I swagger into work, feeling refreshed from my beat down of Gloria and ready to tackle the day.  It’s Friday bitches and we have the rest of the weekend off.  I have some Tucker intel to gather.  My slacking days are over.  It’s time to flush Cammie from my system and get back on track.

Grant is in the building.

“Why do you look so happy?”

“What are you doing, Cammie?”  I’m not mean to her, but I’m not nice, either.  Monotone has become my new normal with her.  I’m professionally neutral, so no one can say I’m rude.

“I’m talking to my friend,” she says cheerily, like nothing has gone south with us.

“We’re not friends anymore,” I retort, and walk away.

“You told me you’d be here for me anytime I need you.  I need you now.”

Her words stop me dead in my tracks.  I said them when she was crying the night of her party and I meant them then.  I didn’t expect things to go wrong so fast.  I thought I had more time—time for her to realize I’m the villain in our story.  I turn and allow my eyes to plead with her when I say, “You have Tucker and Eddie to be there for you now.”

I turn back around and before I can take a step, I hear, “They aren’t my bestie.  You are.”

Why is she doing this to me?

“I have nothing to offer you, Cammie.”

“Yes, you do.  More than you understand.  I have to do my first sex scene with Tucker on Monday in front of everyone.  I’m not ready to have the crew see me barely dressed.  I thought I was okay with this, but I’m not.  I planned on being able to talk to you to get myself prepared, but I haven’t had you.  I need you to walk me through this.”

I keep my back to her and let the pain wash through my system.  Pain caused by picturing my brother, the man I hate with every fiber of my being, touching the one person I’ve allowed myself to care about.  I want to lash out at her and tell her that she’s killing me, causing me to become someone I don’t recognize.  I want to scream that her words are like knives shredding my already damaged heart, but I can’t do it.  I can’t tell her what she’s doing to me because I can’t let her into my world.

“You’ll be fine.  You’re a professional.  We all have to get over that hump at some point,” I say nonchalantly, and walk off.  I rush to the bathroom to douse my face in cold water.  I feel nauseous envisioning Tucker’s hands and lips on her body.  I know the tricks we use to make these scenes look real for the camera, but I also know what we can’t fake.

My stomach rolls with unease and the breakfast I enjoyed earlier decides to make a reappearance.  I race for one of the stalls and barely drop to my knees before the retching begins.

My swagger went down the toilet along with my breakfast and I’m struggling to get through my scenes.  It doesn’t help any time I see Cammie around Tucker.  I’m only reminded of her telling me their first sex scene is coming up.  I may call out sick Monday.  I’m definitely feeling sick watching them with their clothes on.  I can’t imagine how I’ll handle…oh, God, I can’t even go there.

Now, I’m standing on the sidelines with clenched fists, watching Eddie and Tucker walk Cammie out of the studio.  Tucker has his arm around her and he’s eyeing her like she’s his next meal.

I want to kill him.

I don’t know where they’re taking her, but what I do know is if they touch her, I’ll rip them to fucking shreds.  They better not do anything to take away her innocence or there will be no stopping the hell I’ll unleash.  Just because I can’t be friends with her doesn’t mean I won’t protect her with everything I have.

My shoulder blades start to itch and the hairs on my neck raise.  I turn, feeling eyes on me.  Victoria is staring at me with a smirk on her face.  Her dark eyes are full of malice as she nods at the door Cammie just disappeared through with the asshats—the same door I was burning a hole through with my eyes moments ago.

She’s enjoying my aggravation.

I want to tell her I don’t give a shit that Cammie left with them.  That I don’t care where they went or what they’re doing, but I don’t think I could pull off the lie.  I’m too pissed to hide it, too raw and ready to explode.  If that little corner of my heart hadn’t cared for Victoria, I’d march up to her now and tell her she’s a double dong slut just to wipe that smirk off her face, but I’m done calling her out for sleeping with Tucker and me at the same time.  She doesn’t need me to break her down in order to help build her back up anymore.  She’s learning to fight back on her own now.

Turning away from her, I decide to head to the break room until I’m needed.  I figure I can put my head on the table or something, close my eyes, and try to calm the hell down.  I just need to be where I can’t see Cammie or should I say, where I can’t see Cammie and Tucker.

Fuck!

Purging her from my life is turning out to be harder than I thought.

A hand runs across my shoulder and I feel hot breath across my ear.  My body instantly tenses at the contact.  I don’t open my eyes or turn around to see who’s behind me.  I make no attempt to get up from the chair or lift my head.

“Get your fucking hand off me now.”  My voice is filled with a veiled threat of violence.

“Come now, lover.  You know I can touch you whenever I wish.”

His voice slices through the air, igniting my fury.  I lunge from my seat, forcing his hand to fly off my body.  I rail around until I’m facing him and my fists clench at my sides.  He must see the anger emanating off me because he backs up a step.

“Today is not the day to fuck with me.”

“Being a bit dramatic, are we?” he asks, only infuriating me further.  “What’s got your panties in a bunch?  Why don’t you let me help you un-bunch them?”  He smirks that damn smirk that makes my gut clench and reaches for me.

Instinct kicks in and I slap his hand away.  Annoyance flares in his eyes and I take it as a challenge.  “I will not warn you again to keep your goddamn hands off me.”

He doesn’t seem fazed by my outburst.  He lightly chuckles and takes a step toward me.  “Did you forget our deal, lover?”  He holds his head high, his body tall, daring me to defy him.

“Today, I don’t give a shit about our deal.  Is there something you can’t seem to understand about that?  If you try to enforce it, try to bribe me with your little video, I can promise you’ll be going home to your pretty wife Emma in a bag.  And I don’t mean your dick wrapped in a condom.  You feeling me now, lover?”

I throw his pet name back in his face and wait for him to make his move.  It’s a real life chess match with him and I feel like he’s constantly calling “checkmate”.  Just now, I’ve taken out the king and it feels good.

“We’ll revisit our deal later.”

“Whatever you say, Davyd,” I say, giving the finger to his retreating back.

His demise is coming soon and it will be at my hands.  How I long to watch the life leave his eyes and know I took the smugness from his face.  His reign of torment over me is coming to an end and today was just the beginning.

Chapter Twenty Five

Grant

What a fucking day.  Can anything else kick me in the junk?  I mean, seriously?  Wasn’t pushing Cammie away this morning enough?  Then, having a duel with Davyd really has my mind tweaking.  I don’t know which problem to wrap my shit around.  I don’t see either of them leaving me alone.

I wish one would drop the fuck dead and the other would understand I am no good.  But, I learned a long time ago that wishes don’t come true.

Kicking myself in the ass, I finish off the coffee I’ve been sipping and throw the cup away.  I start to leave the break room with plans to head back to the set when a commotion grabs my attention.  Eddie is yelling for everyone to go home.  Something about us having the rest of the day off and I can hear someone crying.

What the hell is going on?

I step into the hallway and a body collides into me.  Arms go around my waist as I hear, “Cammie, it isn’t your fault.”

I look down and Cammie is wrapped around me, wracking sobs violently shaking her body.  Heavy footfalls coming toward me and I peer up to see Eddie barreling toward us.  I’m frozen between her arms around me and the look of rage on his face.  I’m completely confused.

I’ve made no attempt to comfort her and it dawns on me that I’m standing here, letting her cry against me, while I stand as still as a pillar.  What an asshole I’m being.  Shock made me inept at handling the situation.  It’s still making me inept.

I hesitantly bring my arms around her back and loosely hold onto her as Eddie steps up to us.  I stare into his eyes, begging him to explain what is going on.  He shakes his head, telling me it isn’t his story to tell.

Where the hell is Tucker?  They all left together and only Cammie and Eddie are here now.  What did he do to her?

My body starts to vibrate with a hatred so intense, I’m afraid I’m going to spontaneously self-combust.  What did he do to my buttercup?

I pull her away from me and hold her at arm’s length.  Her face is red and blotchy, her eyes swollen.  Her makeup is running down her face and yet, I find her beautiful.  I have to shake off the emotions coursing through me so I can get to the truth.

“Where’s Tucker, Cammie?  What did he do to you?”

She starts crying harder and a blinding rage takes over.  I drop my hands from her arms and turn to Eddie.  I don’t care that Tucker is his best friend.  I don’t care that Eddie can fire me.  I don’t even care about my revenge.  He hurt her.