Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Grayson
Iparked my car literally in the middle of nowhere.
Glancing out the window, I looked around.
A farm.
So the rumors were true—Christian had, in fact, become a farmer. And he picked a place that was pure solitude. No neighbors in sight. Nothing but open land and silence.
I killed the engine and stepped out of the car. Christian must’ve heard the sound of my car because he opened the front door and stepped outside.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
He stood on the porch of his house, wearing a blue flannel shirt and jeans, barefoot.
And I stayed where I was, by my car, just watching him.
Doubt crept in, making me second-guess why the fuck I even came.
I wasn’t sure I had the mental space for this conversation. My life was already a mess, and there were bigger things I needed to deal with.
But he said it was about Ariana. That was the only reason I was here. I just hoped whatever he had to say wouldn’t push me over the edge.
“Come in, Gray,” I heard him say.
I let out a long, heavy sigh before finally forcing myself to move.
My steps were slow at first, as if my body was still trying to decide whether it wanted to go through with this.
My sneakers pressed into the stone path as I walked toward him, each step landing on uneven rocks that had been smoothed over the years by time and weather.
Weeds poked through the cracks, and the smell of earth and old wood lingered in the air.
I kept walking, and when I finally stood in front of him, he asked, “Want to come in, or do you want to talk out here?” Then he glanced down at my shoes. “You’ll have to take those off if you’re coming inside.”
I followed his gaze, then looked back at him and muttered, “Fine. I’ll take them off.”
He turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door open behind him.
I slipped off my sneakers and stepped inside, not really sure what to expect.
The place surprised me. It was modest, lived-in, nothing like the house he grew up in.
His parents’ place was all show—designer furniture, overpriced décor, everything staged to look like they had money, even when they didn’t. This was nothing like that.
“Have a seat,” he said, nodding toward the couch. “Want some coffee? Just brewed a fresh pot. I’ve got some bread pudding too—picked it up at the market yesterday.”
“Coffee’s fine,” I said, settling onto the couch.
Christian moved around the small kitchen with calm ease, as if calling me here after all these years wasn’t a big deal. A few minutes later, he walked over with two steaming mugs, handed one to me, and then sat down across from me.
I didn’t waste time.
“So, you called me yesterday. Then I drove all the way out here. Start talking.”
He set his mug on the coffee table and leaned back, his expression carefully still. “What I’m about to tell you will shock you, Gray. I was hoping you could let me finish before you react. Just… be patient.”
I stayed silent, observing him.
He let out a breath. “The reason I asked you to come out here—my house, this place—is because it’s isolated. I have no neighbors, so there are no witnesses.” He looked me straight in the eye. “If you end up screaming, punching me, or trying to kill me… no one’s going to see it happen.”
My grip tightened around the mug. I set it down on the table before I crushed it in my hand.
Fuck. Whatever he was about to say… it was going to push me right over the edge.
He cleared his throat before speaking, eyes fixed on the floor. “Ariana came to see me about a week ago. And ever since, I’ve been thinking a lot.”
Just hearing that she had gone to him made something inside me snap, my blood running hot before I could think to stop it, before I could remind myself I had no business reacting this way at all.
She had cheated on me with him. We had ended it.
She had walked away. That should have been enough.
That should have been the end of it. But it still got to me.
“She asked me why I did it,” he said, then paused, watching me like he was bracing for a punch. “And I told her everything.”
My brows pulled tight.
Everything? What was there to explain?
They fucked on our bed. I saw it with my own damn eyes. There was nothing left to say. Nothing that could make that any less real.
“Tell her what?” I asked slowly, my voice coming out rough.
“That it was all a setup,” he whispered. “It was all a fucking setup, Gray.”
His fists twisted in his jeans, knuckles white. He was shaking now, unraveling right in front of me.
“I’m sorry. I had to do it, but—” He sucked in a breath, like the words cut on their way out. “The guilt’s killing me. I can’t take it anymore.”
“What?” I choked out. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No fucking way.
I asked again, sharper this time, “What the fuck are you trying to say?”
“I was blackmailed, Gray,” Christian said, voice shaky. “I didn’t have a choice.”
I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, my mind spinning, trying to make sense of the shit he was saying.
“I drugged her,” he went on. “I drugged Ariana, and we staged the whole thing in your bed. She was half-conscious, Gray. But I didn’t think—”
He stopped, breathing hard. Then his voice shifted, strength creeping back in, like anger had taken hold.
“I didn’t think you’d drag her out like that. I knew you’d be angry, but to hurt her like that? To humiliate her?”
I shot to my feet, hands flying to my mouth as the words hit me.
It took a moment for the reality to fully sink in.
Then I lost it.
“What the fuck did you just say, Chris?” I roared, the fury ripping out of me like wildfire.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly.
His whole body trembled, eyes bloodshot and wet. He kept saying it as if it were the only thing holding him together.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Chris,” I breathed, my voice barely holding steady. “Please tell me you didn’t just say I slaughtered my future with the love of my life over lies. That I believed all the fucking lies instead of her, and that I—”
I couldn’t finish. The words jammed in my throat, choking me from the inside.
I was coming apart. I broke down. My hand shot to my neck as the air left me. I couldn’t breathe.
“It hurt when I told her,” he said quietly. “But telling you… I knew that would be worse. We’ve been friends since we could talk, Gray. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I don’t. Give a fuck. That you’re hurt, Chris!” I shouted. “Tell me why! Why the fuck did you do it? Why’d you go that far—why hurt her like that?”
Then I drew back as another brutal thought slammed into me.
“Did you…” I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “Did you rap—”
Fuck. I couldn’t even say it. The word clawed at my throat, too painful to speak.
“I didn’t,” he said quickly, pushing to his feet. “Yeah, I hurt her. But not like that. I couldn’t.”
I turned away, pacing across the room like I was about to tear it apart.
The anger, the frustration, the disbelief—it was all crashing down at once. I couldn’t stand still. I couldn’t even breathe right.
“Chris,” I said, my voice still choked. “You said she was half-conscious.”
I stormed over to him, needing to look him in the eye, praying he wouldn’t say what I already knew.
“That means… when I dragged her out of the house, she was—”
“Yes,” he cut in quietly. “She couldn’t speak, Gray. She couldn’t even move.”
I stumbled back, step after step, like the floor was giving out beneath me.
“No. No, Chris.” I shook my head, my chest tightening, eyes burning. “How could you? How the fuck could you?”
“Your sister, Taylor, blackmailed me, Gray. Because Anthony… he and I, we love each other.”
He looked me dead in the eyes, pleading, begging for me to understand.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not for any fucking reason.
“Taylor?” The word came out sharp, disbelief twisting in my gut.
“She had photos of Tony and me. Incriminating photos. Videos too,” he said, his voice cracking. “She threatened us with them. You know what my parents were like. What Tony’s parents were like too. I just wanted to protect him, so I—”
“So you sacrificed Ariana instead?” I snapped, the words cutting out of me. “And me? And now you want me to understand? To forgive you?”
He didn’t answer, just stood there, silent, tears building in his eyes.
“My sister did that to you?” I growled, struggling to wrap my head around it. How the fuck could my own blood do this to me? “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“I have screenshots of our texts,” he said. “And recorded messages from her too. I can send them to you. The reason I never exposed Taylor all these years was to protect Tony. But I’m fucking tired, Gray. Tired of carrying this guilt.”
I was crying now, and I couldn’t stop. The tears came hard and fast, blurring everything until I could barely see. It was the silent kind of cry—one that tore from deep inside my chest, so heavy I couldn’t make a sound.
I stood there, staring at him, my hand clamped over my mouth to keep from screaming, even though I had no voice left.
Just trying to hold myself together. To keep from completely falling apart. But I was shaking. I could feel it, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.
The memory hit me like a freight train.
Finding them in our bed.
That blinding fury—so all-consuming, I didn’t see what I should’ve seen.
The look in her eyes… the way she stared at me in horror as I pulled her up, made her stand, then dragged her out.
She was weak. She was helpless. And I missed it.
I fucking missed it. Why didn’t I see it?
Why was I so blinded by rage that all I could see was betrayal? Why didn’t I stop for even a second to ask if I was wrong?
How could I be so dense… so fucking stupid, that I didn’t realize she wasn’t fighting me—
She was asking me to save her.
“Gray,” I heard Christian’s voice, low and cautious, slipping into the chaos in my head. “You’re breaking down. Just breathe, man. Breathe.”
My mind was still spinning.
I loved her. God, I loved her. With everything I had, with every piece of me.
She was everything to me.
I should’ve protected her. I should’ve trusted her. I was wrong.
So, so fucking wrong.
My God, I was wrong.
Fuck!
I was so fucking wrong!
“Grayson, breathe. Please,” Christian said, his voice edging toward panic. I could still hear him, but he sounded so far away. “You’re not responding, and I’m scared shitless right now.”
I was still frozen, my mind replaying memories like a broken reel.
Moments of us.
How deeply she loved me. How she took care of me. The way her eyes lit up when she wore my ring. How passionate we were when we made love. How complete she made me feel.
And then… how much she hated me now.
How she said her love had burned into hate. That made the hate even stronger. That she was set on destroying me.
This was why. This was why she looked at me like I had ruined her.
And I was blind to it. I didn’t know.
But I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong.
“Gray… you keep saying you’re wrong,” Christian said, sounding scared.
Did I? I hadn’t even realized I was speaking.
“You need to apologize to her. I know you still love her, Gray. You need to ask for her forgiveness. And I’m truly sorry for what I’ve done to you. For hurting both of you. Gray… Gray!”
I didn’t hear him anymore.
Because everything went dark.