Forsaking Gray (The Colloway Brothers Book 1) (31 page)

Then my face is in his hands and his eyes are blazing with a fire I’ve rarely seen. “Baby, you’re not broken, just bent. Remolded into a new, unique you. A stronger version. Christ.” He pauses, gathering his composure. “You listen to me and you believe every word I’m about to say. You are an incredibly strong and brave woman who has endured horrors that most people could never even imagine, let alone survive. And to be able to put that behind you, and actually thrive like you have? Jesus, I don’t know anyone else that could have done that. And if Gray Colloway can’t see that, then
he’s
the one that’s undeserving, baby, not you. If he can’t accept you, all of you, as much as you want him to be, he’s
not
the man for you.”

He couldn’t be more wrong. Gray
is
the man for me. His chest heaves with the exertion of his impassioned speech. I stare into his stormy eyes, swirling with passion and conviction and swallow hard, tears running down my face. I reach up, placing my hands on biceps. “Are you that man, Grant?” I don’t know why I ask the question, other than to reassure myself that I could be desired by another man.

A throaty rumble leaves his lips and he tilts his head back, eyes closed. That pained look I saw in the car last week is back. Then he pulls my forehead to his, looking deeply into my eyes. “I will always be here for you, Livia. I will never leave you alone again. I promise.”

Not really an answer, but that’s okay. My question was self-serving and came from a place of pain and despair that I’m trying desperately to soothe any way I can. I love Grant, but I am
in
love with Gray, and it was an unfair question for me to ask when I know how Grant feels about me. Hell, maybe he’s in the same place as I am, just over me. I frown at that aching thought. I don’t want to hurt Grant.

Then he’s holding onto me as tightly as I am him. Even though I don’t want him to leave, I also don’t want us to do anything that will damage our friendship because God knows, I won’t make it through this without him and right now I’m feeling a little too vulnerable and, in my grief, I can already see myself making a very stupid mistake here. One that will lead us down an unrighteous path. Then I’ll lose both of the men I love. “You can leave. I’ll be okay.”

He chuckles. “You trying to get rid of me, babe?”

“Yes.”

“Tough shit. I’m staying.”

I sigh into him, grateful that he’s not letting me push him away. He scoops me up in his arms and carries me back to the couch. Once he has us settled lying down so my back is against his chest, he turns on the TV. He grabs the throw from the back of the couch, placing it over me. This position feels too intimate, but I can’t move because his body heat warms me in all the places that I feel cold and numb. Which is everywhere.

“What are we doing?” I ask quietly.

“We’re going to veg and watch a little Property Brothers.”

“Oh, I love those guys. They’re pretty easy on the eyes.”

His body shakes with laughter. “Yep, that’s what I was going for.”

I feel his lips in my hair. He pulls me closer with an arm around my waist, and I can’t help the little shred of peace I feel, albeit ever so small. At this point, I’ll take it and be grateful for it, even if I know I’ll wake in the morning and it’ll be gone. It gives me hope that at some point in the distant future I’ll be able to at least get back to where I was before I saw Gray again for the first time two months ago now. It wasn’t really living, more like existing, but at least I didn’t mope around and cry all day, every day. And right now, I’d settle for just existing, instead of sitting on the edge of despair, looking down the sharp, deadly rocks below, praying for the strength to turn and walk away from the calm they’ll ultimately bring me.

“Grant?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” he replies softly.

“Thank you for being here.”

His lips on my temple comfort me. “There’s nowhere else I’d be.”

I can’t keep my eyes open and even though it’s not even nine, it doesn’t take long before I’m drifting off into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in seven days.

Chapter 43

It’s almost midnight and I’m standing outside Livvy’s door, debating whether to knock. I’ve been pacing for almost ten minutes. I’ve gone up and down the staircase three times. I expect the cops to show up any minute. The old lady across the hall has stuck her nose out twice, and by the scowl she’s given me, she probably thinks I’m some sort of stalker. It’s midnight, for Christ’s sake. Aren’t old people in bed at like…four?

I arrived back in Chicago several hours ago, and in my lonely apartment, all I could hear were Conn’s words echoing off the walls.
“You owe it to yourself, and her, to get some straight answers.”
I also can’t seem to forget his other comment about there being something wrong.

Before I left New York, I went into my bedroom and called Townley. I asked him if he had any more information than what he’d already provided me and he gave me an abrupt no. He told me the same thing I’d thought when he delivered this earth-shattering report.
“Sometimes the past is dangerous. Leave it where it belongs
.” And after those cryptic words, in no uncertain terms he told me never to call him again.

As much as I try to talk myself out of it, I still love Livvy. I can’t see myself ever getting over her. Even when I thought she’d left me, I still loved her. All these years I’ve pined for her, like a lovesick fool. There will never be a time when I don’t love Livvy. So I do owe it to both of us to have a sit-down, and while I could have chosen a better time than the middle of the night, I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. My soul aches for her. My eyes thirst to drink her in again. I’ve listened to every one of her voicemails and read every single text a dozen times in the last twelve hours.

But I also have to know why she betrayed me and I need to do some deep soul-searching to find forgiveness. Right now I’m too hurt to even think about that. Answers first, forgiveness later. Before I can change my mind, my hand raises and pounds loudly on their door. I knock several times before it swings open and a very irate Addy stands in front me, pulling the sash tight on her short robe.

“What in the fuck are you doing here, asshole? And you do realize it’s the middle of the fucking night, right?”

“It’s Saturday night. Not like you have to get up and go to work tomorrow.”

“Oh. My. God.” She starts to slam the door in my face and luckily my foot makes it in the crack just in time to stop it from breaking my nose.

“Fuck,” I curse, shoving it back open.

She stands there with her arms across her chest and her legs spread like a warrior princess preparing to protect all that she cares about in the world. And maybe she is…her friend. “You need to leave. You’ve already done enough to Livia. She’s a barely functioning, vomiting, zombie wreck.”

“She’s the wreck?” I ask indignantly, even though all I remember now is the throwing up part and Conn’s comment about her losing weight. My stomach twinges. “Did she tell you what
she
did to
me
? I think you have the wrong version of the story here, sweetheart. You know what, this is none of your business.” I push past her and head down the hallway to Livvy’s bedroom, all the while Addy’s pulling my arm, trying to stop me.

And the second I throw open her door, I know why. I feel like someone has reached inside my body and violently ripped out every single organ I have. My lungs won’t work. My stomach is in my shoes. My bleeding, beating heart is lying on the floor at my feet and my soul is...my soul is crumbling right before my very eyes.

My girlfriend, former fiancée, and woman that I love to the depths of my very being is laying in the arms of not only another man, but a man who I never thought I’d see again. Never wanted to see again. A man who is dead to me.

My twin brother.

Chapter 44

I awake from a deep sleep to sounds of yelling and screaming and furniture being broken. Blinking several times to clear the haze in my brain, I take in my surroundings. I’m in my bedroom and Grant isn’t here. My door is wide open, the hall light spilling into the darkness. A quick glance at the digital clock shows it’s after midnight. I hear Addy screaming
stop
and wonder what in the hell is going on. I’m decent, still dressed in my sweats and t-shirt, so I quickly head out into the living room, but I’m so dizzy, I have to stop half way down and hang onto the wall for support. When I finally make it to the edge of the hall, what I see stops me short.

Gray is here. And on the ground trading punches with Grant. Gray’s mouth is bleeding and his blue polo shirt is ripped down the front. Blood pours from Grant’s nose and the black t-shirt he’s wearing is pulled almost over his head.

Addy’s running around hitting them both with a yardstick, trying to break up the fight. If they both didn’t look like they wanted to kill each other, I’d almost laugh at how utterly ridiculous she looks wielding a three feet long piece of wood that’s doing about as much good as a plastic baseball bat.

“Hey!” I yell, weakly. Not one of the three acknowledges me. My vision starts to blur and my ears buzz. My head feels heavy and their voices sound further away every second. I’ve fainted once in my life before and this feels an awful lot like that. “Hey,” I yell again, but it comes out on a whispered croak.

The last thing I remember before I crumble into a heap to the floor is three sets of eyes latching onto mine. I try to fight it, but can’t stop the darkness from coming for me.

_____________

The inside of my mouth feels like I’ve swallowed paste. An annoying beep chimes in the background. I reach over to turn off my alarm, but my hand hits air. I lay still, struggling to open my eyes, but low, angry voices in the background cause one to crack.

Gray and Grant are in the corner arguing, and their voices continue to get louder and louder. Even from here, I can see both their faces look worse for the wear. Gray has a swollen lip and the beginnings of a black eye. Grant still has dried blood on his face and his cheek looks swollen. Their clothes look disheveled and there’s a trail of dried blood dotted down the front of their shirts.

I look around and see Addy curled up in a chair, sleeping. I’m in a room that looks sterile with dingy yellow walls and that hard tile looking floor that seems that it would be indestructible, even as the earth burns at the end of days. A window with dirty looking plastic blinds sits in the middle of the far wall and a small TV hangs in the corner of the ceiling.

I’m in the hospital.
Shit
.

“Stop,” I croak, but my weak attempt at speaking can’t be heard above their escalating voices. I try to sit up, but still feel too tired. I take a deep breath and say it again, this time getting their attention. They both rush to either side of my bed, but neither touches me. It makes me sad and a fresh set of tears well up again. I’m so sick and tired of crying, I could scream. The fact that I’m unable to control my emotions this past week, when I’ve had them locked tighter than Fort Knox for years is just plain pissing me off. I swipe at the moisture and strengthen my resolve.

Grant pushes a button on the side of my hospital bed, which slowly sits me up. I look down and notice I’m in a hospital gown, instead of my sweats and t-shirt.

“How are you?” he asks softly.

I shake my head. I don’t really know how I am. “How long have I been here?”

Gray answers, “Twelve hours.”

Twelve hours? I do remember coming to a couple of times, but it didn’t register where I was. “Did they admit me?”

He nods. “You’re severely dehydrated.” He points to the IV that I only now notice is attached to a tube coming out of the top of my hand. “They ran some tests, but won’t give us any information, because we’re not family.” I wince at his last word. Gray and Grant feel more like family to me than anyone else, except Alyse.