Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
GRAYSON
It was never my intention to tell Nadine or anyone else the horrors of my past.
But I couldn’t let her think I somehow thought any less of her because of what I’d witnessed.
It simply wasn’t true.
We talked, and I told her everything bad and ugly that happened.
I didn’t tell her anything good because there was nothing good about my childhood or teenage years.
No, that’s not true, because I met my brothers.
The men I would heal with and whom I would open Securus with, a security company that we could run and feel good about protecting people.
Slipping out of bed, I leave Nadine alone and head toward the kitchen, taking out a bottle of bourbon and a glass.
I pour myself a healthy drink, then make my way toward the window and lean against the wall as I look out at the city.
The lights twinkle from people’s windows all over Nights, North Carolina, and I can’t help but wonder how many of them are struggling to breathe right now, because that’s how I fucking feel.
I may not show much of it on the outside or say it, but right now, I’m fucking struggling.
My past, my future, all of it seems hopeless, and I feel fucking helpless.
The grasp I had on my control is fucking gone.
It’s vanished.
It’s in this moment of internal upheaval that I realize we’ve gotten off track about our company and our mission.
The shift has been organic, but it’s a shift I don’t think any one of us intentionally set out to make.
Originally, all we wanted to do was find Ravet.
We wanted to ruin him, torture him, and watch him die.
We’ve done that.
But before we ever found him, that searching, that desire for vengeance and revenge, turned into surveillance.
And we ended up all being really fucking good at different aspects of it, which combined made us the best company on the East Coast and possibly the country.
We’ve been so wrapped up in Ravet, in the dark web, in killing and ruining men, we’ve lost sight of our jobs.
Losing sight of my job, security and surveillance, almost made us lose Nadine.
I can’t do that again.
I can never risk losing her again.
I also can’t chance harming her mentally or emotionally.
She’s been through enough, and as much as I think that I want what Merrick and Theron have, I also don’t know how to be the men they are.
Which is why I can’t do anything more than protect her until the day I die and set provisions in place to continue to protect her even when I’m gone.
Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a drink as I continue to stare out at the city.
Sadness consumes me, but I tamp it down.
It’s been a fucking wild couple of days, and I’m sure that everything is just swirling inside of me.
I have a lot going on, and I need to compartmentalize and organize my work and my life with Nadine.
I’ll feel better then.
Once I have control again.
Then I feel her.
Her hand touches the center of my bare back.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, she is standing behind me.
She doesn’t speak, her face and throat so fucking swollen and bruised that I can’t hide my wince.
“You need to be in bed,” I grunt.
She doesn’t take offense at my gruffness.
Instead, her lips curve up into a small smile.
“I had to go to the bathroom, and you weren’t beside me. I was afraid you’d gone to sleep on the sofa.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I turn around and lean my back against the wall.
Dipping my chin, I look into her eyes.
“I saw my reflection in the mirror. I know what I look like and why you didn’t want to come to bed with me. Why you’re afraid of me.”
Her words fucking kill me.
“Not afraid of you, beautiful,” I say.
“You deserve peace, and I’m going to give that to you.”
Nadine’s brows snap together, but I don’t let her respond.
I don’t want to hear her argue with me.
Instead, I shift forward slightly and touch my lips to her forehead, one of the few parts of her body that isn’t swollen or bruised.
“Let’s go to bed,” I murmur against her skin.
A few moments later, we’re settled in bed, and I allow myself to hold her.
I will always allow myself to hold her and kiss her forehead.
Nothing more.
She will have peace.
She will have a lifetime of peace, and I’m going to be the one to give it to her.
NADINE
Rolling over, I reach out before I even open my eyes.
I already know that I’m alone.
I didn’t need to see it for myself.
Sliding my hand along the cool sheets where Grayson has been sleeping, I know that he was not here for long.
Every single day has been the same routine.
Grayson comes home from work, we eat dinner together, we watch a movie and then go to bed.
He slips out of bed at some time in the middle of the night, and then I wake up alone and start all over again.
It’s been weeks, and not once have I woken up with him beside me.
Tomorrow is Monday morning and my first day back at work.
My bruising is almost completely gone, my face appears somewhat normal, especially with makeup, and I need to get out of the apartment for a few days.
No, I need to get out of Grayson’s apartment altogether.
Clearly, he’s just here to ensure that I’m physically healing.
He’s made it very clear with his words and actions that there will be nothing else.
And as much as that hurts, I need to accept the fact that it is exactly what he wants.
And what he wants is to be done with me, but he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.
He’s been very kind.
He’s ensured that I’m safe and fed.
He’s held me, he’s kissed my forehead, and he has stroked my hair.
But I am not made of glass.
I have healed from Landon Tate before, and I will again.
So I’ll be moving back home.
It’s time to move forward and create the life I deserve because I deserve to live a good life.
One where the man who is in my life wants to be with me.
Doesn’t see me as dirty or damaged—who wants me.
I take a long shower before I get dressed, curl my hair, and put on a thicker-than-usual layer of makeup in an effort to cover up some of my bruising.
After slipping on a skirt and blouse, I slide my feet into my high heels and take in my reflection.
Lucille was nice enough to go to my apartment over the weekend and grab some clothes for me to wear to the office, and I have to admit, she does not play when it comes to styling.
I wouldn’t have put this skirt and blouse together or added the shoes, but it’s a damn good look.
My skirt is a gray pencil skirt that is high-waisted and hugs me down to just below my knees.
I usually wear a black button-down top with it and black heels, but she chose a navy high-neck sleeveless bodysuit, a thin black belt, and nude pumps.
I feel like a badass in this.
Grabbing my purse, I start to head toward the door when there is a knock on the other side.
I stand stock-still.
My body fills with anxious energy.
I want to turn around and run, but I can’t do anything.
I’m frozen.
“Nadine, it’s Brody,” my brother’s voice calls out.
It’s as if my body is suddenly freed from its cemented place on the floor.
Rushing over to the front door, I look through the small peephole and see Brody standing there, wearing his normal uniform of his cut, jeans, and boots.
Taking a step backward, I wrench the door open.
I have only seen him once since everything happened, and it was a tense meeting, but as always, Brody was kind and caring toward me, as he always is.
But I can sense that he feels guilty, and he pities me.
Two things I absolutely hate.
He has no reason to feel guilty.
He had his own traumas to deal with as a kid and teenager, as a young man.
It was not his responsibility to save me, and trust me, he did enough of that when we were kids.
It’s not something I ever expected him to do as we got older.
He couldn’t have stopped the marriage between me and Landon even if he had wanted to.
And he couldn’t have stopped Landon from hurting me a few weeks ago, either.
He was tied to a damn chair.
That’s where the pity comes in.
He saw what he saw, and he feels sorry for me.
I hate that.
“What are you doing here?” I question as soon as I swing the door open.
His lips curve up into a grin.
“Calloway couldn’t make it back in time from whatever the fuck he’s doing to take you to work. He called me to be your chauffeur.”
I snort, mainly because I know that I don’t need a chauffeur, but it’s sweet that he thought of me and called Brody instead of one of the other guys.
This is probably as much for me as it is for Brody.
“I can’t get on your bike like this.” I wave my hand in front of me.
Brody chuckles.
“Yeah, figured as much,” he says.
“Brought my truck.”
I slip out of the apartment and lock the door behind me, but I don’t make a motion to move yet.
“Brody?” I call out softly.
His eyes flick to mine, and he must sense the seriousness in my tone because he plants his feet wide and places his hands on his hips as he focuses on me and only me.
“I’m ready to move back home,” I say.
“Okay,” he says with a single nod.
“No,” I murmur, shaking my head.
“Not back to my apartment.”
“What are you trying to say?” he asks.
Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times.
I can’t return to our childhood home, so that’s not what I mean.
I can’t stay here anymore, though.
I need to go somewhere else.
“I’m ready to find a home. I’m free now, Brody.”
“What about your apartment, Grayson’s apartment, your job?”
Looking back over my shoulder at the closed door, I think about Grayson and his apartment.
The apartment is his, and he is not mine.
Shifting my gaze back to meet his, I search his eyes.
“There are other jobs. I want a home, and Grayson needs to find his happiness.”
“Enough said,” Brody states.
Together, we leave the apartment building and Brody takes me to work, although he stops at a coffee shop with the excuse that it’s for me, but he gets a large coffee for himself, too.
He pulls up to Securus, shifting the pickup truck into Park .
“I’m sorry for not being a better brother when I should have been,” he murmurs.
“But I am here now, and I will do whatever you want me to. Including beating the shit out of Grayson again.”
Unable to hide my smile, I reach for his arm and wrap my fingers around his wrist.
“Please don’t beat up Grayson. He has been really good to me.”
“But you’re leaving him?” he asks.
I hum, my fingers flexing around his wrist again.
“It’s time.”
“You want me to pick you up after work?”
“No, but thank you.”
“Call me anytime, Nadine. Day or night.”
Releasing my brother’s arm, I slip out of the pickup truck and turn to face him once I’m settled on the asphalt ground.
I tip my head back slightly until my eyes find his, and I hold the connection for a moment before I speak.
“I love you, Brody.”