Just That Easy (18 page)

He stood, watching Teryn approach the desk, hoping Al
wouldn’t be right behind him to completely destroy his life. “Just give me the
week, Al. I’ll figure something out. Okay?”

Al sighed, then shrugged and gave him a menacing look.
“Okay. A week.”

He walked out to the desk to meet Teryn, solid relief
draining the cold, sweaty feel of terror from his body.

She smiled up at him, a curious look on her face. “All done,
I’m heading home. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, we were just talking.” He smiled back, not feeling
it, and knew she could tell.

“Uh-huh. Well, I think maybe we need to talk later.”

A sick feeling spread in his stomach. “Why’s that?”

Leaning, she looked around him to the office, clearly
putting Al in her line of sight. “Because I’ve never seen you so angry as you
just were talking to him, in fact, I’ve never seen you really angry. Ever. And
when you were that angry, Al was pointing straight at me. So later, when we
talk, you’re going to tell me why.”

“Teryn, I…”

Putting her hand up, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Uh-uh, not now. Not the time or the place. I feel like if you push me right
now, Grant, I’m going to lose it. All this pent-up frustration, these little
unspoken things that are going on between us. I’m not going to make an ass out
of myself right here.”

He sighed, defeated but relieved he at least had the chance
to talk to her more about it. “Okay. Should I come to you, your house?”

An exasperated snort came from her. “Where else? You
practically live there, Grant.”

“You say that like I’m intruding.”

She dropped her eyes and sighed. “You aren’t. I want you
there, you know that.”

“I’ll see you later then.” He put his hand on hers. “I
promise we’ll talk.”

He watched her walk out of the library then turned to face
Al, who was still looking at him with that disapproving look. The feeling he’d
already completely destroyed the only good thing he’d ever felt in his life was
filling him with the familiar crawl of wanting to shut down.

The old Grant. The robot, the one who moved purposefully
through every single day, cold, ruthless, doing what needed to be done, hating
everyone and everything that was part of it. Not giving a shit about the life
of luxury and power laid out in front of him, seething daily that he couldn’t
just reach out and destroy it all, bring it burning to the ground and walk away
from the ruins, free.

That Grant wanted to take over and push him back to that
safe place where he just buried himself, his head, his heart, and never let
anyone touch it. Like hell. He’d found her, and she’d pulled him straight out
of that pit of hell into the world he’d always wanted to live in. The one where
he knew he had a heart, where he’d realized he actually could feel something
without waiting for the price tag to follow it. The one where he could be out
from under everything except doing what he damn well wanted with her.

The world where Teryn was, where he wanted to please her
more than anything on earth, because she had no idea that just a look from her
drove straight into him. As hard as it was to watch her fight it he couldn’t
resist pushing her farther because that innocent little need she had to please
him, to see him go just a little deeper into ecstasy with her, was the only
time anyone in his entire life had done something just to please him. Just to
do it and for no other reason other than to see him feel pleasure or joy.

God he hated it that he loved her so much, that it ground
out deep in his gut when he lay awake at night, watching her sleep. It felt
impossible to feel that this soon, but it was there. Knowing he was going to
have to tell her, watch her hate him when she was the only thing, the only
person who’d ever loved him for just being himself, whether she wanted to or
not. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of love people had after fifty years together,
but it was the beginning of it, that he knew. He knew because he’d never felt
it but he’d craved it every single day of his life until he saw her, saw the
possibility of it in her eyes so fast after being with her. Now it was what he
lived and breathed for.

His only hope was that he could get her to a place far
enough in her trust for him that she would be able to understand, understand
how he’d lied to her from the very start.

Five hours later, he was having doubts that would ever
happen.

The text surprised her. Only the second one he’d sent her so
far, he preferred the sound of her voice to electronic words because he always
called when he needed something. Sometimes it actually was just to hear her
voice, he’d even joked about it. This was different. This gave her a sick
feeling in her stomach, something was definitely wrong.

Come to the library. Hurry. Please.

She’d just left the library an hour ago.

She called his phone, couldn’t resist the urge although
obviously whatever it was he had chosen not to go that route. He didn’t answer,
which made her nerves ratchet up a notch even when she hadn’t really expected
him to.

When she pulled in that gut-clenching feeling got worse, and
everything else tightened up on top of it. His car was gone and Al stood in the
door of the library. Obviously looking for her.

“Come in here, girl.” He waved her in, putting his arm
around her as he ushered her into his office and shut the door. “He had to go.
Something happened.”

“To him?” She felt her nerves about to fly apart.

“No, honey, he’s fine. Well, fine as he can be. Family
stuff, not good stuff, but he’s gotta go deal with it. He told me to tell you
he’ll be back as soon as he can.”

“Why didn’t he just call me?”

“I-I can’t really say that, sweetie. He told you his family,
is, uh, a bit fucked up, to put it nicely?”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Al, you just said fuck. That is
so, so not good.”

“You’re right there, girl. He’s gonna be fine, but he won’t
be back tonight. Might be late tomorrow, maybe even the next day. He said to
tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t tell you himself.”

“I still don’t get why he couldn’t.” The whole hidden
family-agenda thing was starting to bug the hell out of her. Then again, she
had to remind herself of their agreement. She wasn’t willing to give him an
emotional commitment, so who the hell was she to expect any kind of personal
history from him?

“He didn’t want you to see him like that and he had to
hurry.”

“See him like what?”

“His family can twist him up pretty bad, Teryn. He’s gonna
be a bit messed up when he gets back, but I am guessing he’s going to just bury
it like he always does. You’ll be here though, right? You aren’t gonna bolt on
him, are you?”

“Any reason I should, Al?” Her question covered a lot more
ground than just Grant tearing out of town without telling her to her face.

He took a minute to answer. She could see him mentally
chewing something, but in the end he clearly decided to only give away so much.

“No. There’s no reason for you to bolt on him right now,
girl. I’m not sayin’ this won’t come up again, in fact, I can pretty much
guarantee you it will, but you can deal with that when it comes. He’s going to
need you when he comes back. For now, don’t give up on him just yet.”

The exact same words she’d said to him in her note.

“You know a lot more than you are telling me, Al, and I
wouldn’t have thought it from you. I’m getting the idea that no matter how good
our friendship is, there is some connection to Grant that is making your
loyalty lie with him, not me.”

He shook his head forcefully and put his hand on hers.
“Girl, I am not going to leave you hanging. I am your friend. Do I know more
about him and his family than I’ve told you? Yes, I do. You and Grant are
already in this thing and you have some things to get sorted. I can’t go there,
honey it’s not my place, but he isn’t gone doing anything that will hurt you,
this is just about him and his family. Now, am I worried he might hurt you at
some point down the road, yes, baby girl, I’ll tell you I am. Do I think he’s
going to do it on purpose, that he wants to hurt you? No, I don’t. More than
that, I can’t say, you and he need to talk it out, and I’m sorry if that makes
you mad at me.”

Squeezing his hand, she leaned back in the chair. “I’m not
mad at you, Al. If you thought I was in danger or something was that bad you’d
tell me, so that means whatever this is, it’s personal, between him and me. Am
I right?”

“Yes. You are.”

“And what’s going on now doesn’t really have anything to do
with it?”

“Not really, other than the way his family affects his life,
and this isn’t out of the ordinary I’ll tell you that.”

“Well then, you haven’t said anything I didn’t already know.
I have been holding my breath, Al, waiting for the axe to fall. This interrupts
things a bit, huh? As for you asking me to step up and be there for him, why?
If you think he might hurt me?” The idea had her cocking her head to the side,
watching his answer.

He sighed. “Because where he’s at right now is probably
something terrible for him. His family uses him up and it kills him. One thing
I know, Teryn, no matter what happens in the end, right here, right now, that
man believes he is in love with you and he needs you. I can’t be a good person
and tell you to turn away from that. It’s your decision. If you think you want
to see if things can be worked out, or if you just want to save yourself the
pain and cut your losses now, you have every right.”

She sighed. “I fight with myself about him, Al. My gut says
that this is going to end badly, that I’m going to get hurt. But god help me, I
can’t seem to turn away from him or how I feel when I’m with him. I’m walking
the edge of a sword. I swear to myself I won’t fall in love with him, that this
is physical, fun, and it won’t last. All while every single minute with him is
everything I ever wanted. So am I going to bail while you are standing there
telling me he’s hurting? No, Al, I won’t. Not promising I won’t kick that big
stupid ass of his after he’s over it, though.”

He put his hand on her arm, patting her softly, a look of
sympathy on his face. “Just know no matter what, I am your friend. I will be
here for you and back you up, even against him if need be, okay?”

“Thanks, Al.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and stumbled
back out to her Jeep, not at all looking forward to spending the night alone in
her bed.

“Get up, you worthless piece of shit.”

The grungy man cracked one eye open a slit and peered
through the bars at him. “Ah, Grant, prodigal son arrived to scurry me out of
the prying eyes of the public? Afraid to crush that lily-white reputation of
the Callahan clan.”

Flexing his fists, Grant kept his voice even and low. “I couldn’t
give a shit about the reputation of the Callahan clan. I’m here so Jack and
Tate don’t have to deal with you.”

“Always the protector.” His old man closed his bloodshot eye
and rubbed his jaw, a bitter grin splitting his cracked lips.

“Stepping up to do the job you couldn’t.”

A triumphant looked filled his thin, ragged face, eyes wide
open now. “Well too late anyway, Jack’s here.”

“Fuck. Where.” Grant scrubbed his hand through his hair,
glaring at the man in the cell, hating him with every fiber of his being for
dragging his brother into this mess.

“Went to go do something, hell, I don’t know. Don’t really
care.”

Grant was silent. Nothing in his head could possibly make
the crumpled, dirty man slung across the jail bunk feel his wrath, no sense
bothering to try. His father didn’t care, didn’t care that Jack and Tate had
been crushed when they had to face what their father was—something Grant had
known all along and spent his entire existence trying to hide from them. To
save them the pain he’d had to deal with. The sins of the father, come to rest
on the shoulders of the firstborn. Just as always.

“What, nothing to say?” His old man peered at him, a slight
grin on his face.

“Not worth bothering.” He wasn’t in the mood for the game
that was always part of this thing, the one where his father pushed, pushed
hard, until Grant ended up so angry he couldn’t help but show his teeth, get
lost in rage, and end up the spitting image of the man in the cell. Raging,
eventually drunk and drowning his sorrows in sex and death wishes. He knew it
was what his father craved, knowing he’d spawned something like himself. Not
this time.

His father pulled himself up, sitting against the wall,
eyeing his son suspiciously. “Then why do you come? Why don’t you leave me to
just do what I want? If you don’t care what people think…”

“Because Jack cares, Tate cares. I care about them. Not
you.”

“Ahh…right, because you didn’t let them quite see who I
really was. They still haven’t digested it all, they hope maybe this is just
some kind of breakdown. You feel guilty because you made it worse on them,
having to get hit with it so hard once they figured it out.”

“No more talking, I don’t feel like wasting the breath.”

“Grant?”

He whirled. “Jack, what the fuck are you doing here?”

His brother gave him a wry smile, spreading his arms wide in
question as he walked toward him. “What, big bro, you think you have to bear
the burden by yourself every time?”

Grant shook his head, relieved and saddened at the same time
his brother stood in front of him. “You don’t have to be here, Jack, I can
handle it.”

Jack gave him a quick man hug, clapped him on the back.

“I think I’m old enough now to help pick up the garbage with
you. I know what you did, Grant, all these years and I love you for it, you
know that. Sorry I was so slow to come around, man, but I wouldn’t be any kind
of man or brother if I just sat back now and left you to deal with this, would
I? You took the blows long enough, why don’t you give yourself a break? He’s
not your cross to bear alone anymore.”

The tone and the words, told Grant volumes about where Jack
was with this. His breath whistled out of him, proud of the man Jack had
become. Probably not filled with as much hatred for their father as he was, but
just as done caring other than to have to deal with the fallout. It filled him
with pride that his brother had stepped up to his side in this, even while it
was painful to have to let him. “Thanks, Jack.”

“I got some clothes, you get some kind of plan going as
usual? And why aren’t you yelling at me?”

He grinned back at Jack, the comfort of his brother’s
straight-out way of dealing with things settling over him. “I got a plan, all
right. Brazil. Permanently. I have a friend in the consulate. His U.S. visa is
to be confiscated when he gets there. I need to be done with this, Jack,
forever. Oren Callahan will now be a permanent resident of a hacienda near Rio.
Lots of prostitutes there, guards I’ve bought and paid for will be making sure
he keeps out of trouble.”

He turned toward the cell. “So, Oren, you’re lifelong wet
dream has finally come true. Took me two years but you can live out your days
in filth and men, drunk, what the fuck ever, I don’t care. Just don’t ever come
back here again, because if you do, I will kill you. I won’t be able to help
it.” He turned to Jack. “I’m not yelling at you, Jack, because I’m learning to
be a human being for once, instead of the bastard this mother fucker tried to
turn me into.”

Almost like looking in the mirror, Jack was a slightly
taller, slightly leaner version of himself. Jack was six-four to his six-two,
blue eyes like his but lighter, with that trademark Callahan black Irish hair
and dimple. There was no sign of his usual, relaxed, California-beach-attitude
brother right now. His jaw was clenched, as his likely was, and his eyes were
hard.

“Jack, you see to paying the bills on this fucked-up mess,
I’ll get you the file on it. That’s all I need help with. Likely here in a
while, I’m signing off completely, so I won’t be able to do the financial end
of things.”

Jack nodded knowingly at him, not seeming in the least
surprised. The snort that came from the cell made them both turn and look at
the pathetic man who held the title of father to them.

“Makin’ good on your threat, huh?”

Grant shrugged. “Not a threat, Oren. I don’t want your
world, never did.”

“Money never seemed to hurt you any, son. The expensive
schools, all the alcohol and pussy it got you. Oh, you say you never wanted any
of them, really, did you? Right, that’s why you just like to fuck them all and
walk, like your old man. Beat the shit out of people, fuck everything that
moves, fast cars, fast life, yeah, that’s my Grant. Made you a lot like me,
didn’t I? That was all I hoped for, Grant. Apple didn’t fall that far from the
tree, did it, son?”

Grant could barely force the words out. Rage enveloped him
but he didn’t let go of any of it. He would have ripped the bars open and torn
the man to pieces if he could. He sucked in a long, hard breath, reminding
himself that his father baited him, his favorite game.
Prove him wrong, this
time.

He looked at him, three-day-old scruff on his face streaked
with gray, his face worn, haggard, alcohol and living in seedy hotels showing
on him. Grant knew his father’s life, he had had to pay for it, setting up a
trust fund, a trustee to pay the bills on the hotels, fill the bank account
when it emptied, and a private investigator to keep tabs on his father so they
didn’t get any more nasty surprises than usual. He somehow always managed to
get into trouble though, like now. Couldn’t resist just doing something to call
attention to himself, get them to come running, shove himself in their face for
a bit like saying “Hey, look at me, this is what you are and I’m still here.”
Except Grant was finally beginning to understand that he wasn’t like this man.
He was finally starting to believe it.

He forced himself to examine his father, really look at him
for once. His skin was pallid, his dark eyes were hard. Grant wondered at the
fact that not one of his sons had inherited those almost-black eyes, and
thankful for it. The man was a filthy pig, and regardless of the fact that he
had once headed one of the biggest Fortune 500 families in the country, and a
huge following as a devout Lutheran with his own church behind him, he was now
nothing more than what he really was, a fraud, a hypocrite. He’d crushed his
reputation and almost the entire Callahan family when it came to light that he
was fucking half the men in his service at that church, and also that the
company supposedly founded on Christian values was not at all concerned with
anything but the bottom line and Oren Callahan’s fulfillment of his twisted
fantasies. That was the day Grant had been forced to assume the mantle of his
father, take responsibility for it all, answer to it, grind out press
conferences where he groveled, acted repentant to a set of values he didn’t
even believe in, and saved the rest of his family from losing everything. At
what cost? His soul. Almost his sanity.

When he finally spoke, the only hints of his anger were the
fists balled at his side and his voice measured, slow. “You are not anything to
me. I’m not your son. I’m just evolutionary DNA. I’m not like you at all.
Anything before now was just the result of having to be under your thumb, and I
don’t have to be anymore.”

“You’ll end up with nothing. What are you gonna do if you
don’t have that Callahan fortune behind you, son? You’ll be all alone, that
bitch of a wife never wanted you anyway. Just your money, your name. No other
pussy is gonna want your asshole of an attitude if you don’t have cash to shove
at them, then what? Live drunk, alone, pulled out of the gutter by Jack and
Tate, like me?”

“Not even close, old man. I wouldn’t bother to tell you this
because you don’t deserve to even know me, but since I know it’s going to hurt
to know you didn’t wreck me, mold me like you wanted me to be a lying, asshole,
son of a bitch, child-beating prick like you, I’m going to say it. I’m walking
away from all of it. Callahan empire, houses, cars, money, horses, whatever, I
don’t give a fuck. I don’t need it. And I don’t have to drown my sorrow or
anything else for that matter, because I found someone who loves me for who I
am. Nothing to do with any of it, and I’m damn well going to go live my life
with her as a regular guy, no strings attached. How’s that, old man? None of
what you pushed at me, no money, no name, no nothing. Just me, and a real
goddamn life. I hope that shit keeps you up at night, you miserable bastard.”

He turned from the cell, dismissing the man behind the bars.
He flipped open his phone. “Sam? We’re ready. I’ve got a car outside. All
right.” He flipped the phone shut. “Sam’s finishing the paperwork, Jack. Once
he’s free, he’s dumped in the car, the bodyguards are going to make sure he
gets where he’s going. Or they can shove his ass out of the plane at
twenty-thousand feet, I don’t care. They have permission to do whatever it
takes. I’m not babysitting him this time. I’m not going with him.”

Another chirp from his phone brought it back to his ear,
this time just listening to his voicemail. He closed his eyes, letting it wash
over him, push out everything else. Her voice soothed him and he sent up a
silent thank-you that she was still there, calling him three times already since
he’d just up and left her without a word. Telling him she’d be there when he
got back if he needed her. He needed her more than anything.

“I’ve got to get home, Jack. She doesn’t even know where I
am.”

A low whistle from Jack made Grant’s head turn toward him.
“What?”

“You’ve changed, bro, for the better. A year ago you’d be
drunk by now, fight some guy in a bar and take three chicks home with you,
probably try to kill yourself in that damn Jag on the way there. Whatever
you’re doing, keep on doing it.”

Grant nodded, the confirmation that his brother was right,
that this was right flooded him. “I intend to.”

A few minutes later they sat outside the processing room on
a bench while their family lawyer Sam Fields signed the paperwork to get their
father out of jail. He paid the fine for drunk and disorderly, and soliciting a
prostitute. Sometimes connections were a good thing, it made the bullshit that
went along with his father’s behavior that much easier to dispose of. Not
because he was embarrassed by it, he was far beyond that, but because he didn’t
want to spend the time going through the normal channels to deal with it.

“Hey, give me your phone.” Jack held his hand out.

Grant tossed it to him. “What?”

“Got a new private number at the house up in Orick, want to
program it in. Come visit me when things settle, take a vacation. We’ll surf
and drink beer on the beach like normal people. Bring her, I’d like to meet…
Whoa!”

“What? Shit! Give me that!”

Jack laughed, holding the phone away as he lunged for him. “No
way, dude. Is that her? Holy fucking hell, no wonder you’re so goddamn happy.”

“Jack…” His voice was low, warning.

“Chill, bro. It’s kind of artsy. Besides, too late. Can’t
unsee it now.”

The picture on the background of his phone was of Teryn. She
didn’t even know he’d taken it, she’d been asleep. He never really expected
anyone to touch his phone and he’d forgotten about it, even though he looked at
it. Often. She’d been sleeping on her left side, her arm in front of her, her
fist curled under her chin. All that dark hair falling over her, her shoulder
bare, the sheet pulled up just to her chest, her right breast peeking out. It
was a beautiful photo, not dirty, just sexy, the look on her face so innocent,
so serene.

The number programmed in, Jack tossed the phone back to him,
grinning. “She’s hot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiled. “She is. Even more in person.”

“You really are in love with her, aren’t you?”

“Completely.”

Jack leaned back on the bench, looking up at him. A look of
mild surprise followed by what might have been pride on his face. “Wow. Never
ever thought that would happen.”

“Me either. Not sure I deserve it.” Grant sat heavily next
to his brother and leaned back into the wall, feeling bone tired.

“Why? That asshole in there? She’s any kind of woman—and she
must be to love you—she won’t care.”