Chapter 24 #2
My heart is cracking in two. Do I tell her? That I know about the magazine? The very last thing I want to do is make her feel cornered. Confronted for her decisions. Ultimately, it’s her body. She’s allowed to do whatever she wants. Whether it makes me want to go on a killing spree or not.
She sniffles. “I don’t want to be here.”
“Vegas? Or the airport?” Hell, I hope she doesn’t mean in my arms. “I thought you wanted to see the town?”
“I do. Well, I did. It’s kind of lost its shine.”
I decide to sit patiently, and let her share whatever she’s willing with limited interruption.
She explains through a steady stream of tears that she’s been struggling to take care of her mother since she lost her job.
Her mother doesn’t receive enough in social security to cover her medical expenses, much less her living expenses.
That her mother’s home is all that she has.
In the midst of her sobs, Grace describes what sounds like a preposterous sixties and seventies Elvis-inspired motif.
“But it’s hers. It’s the one thing that gives her joy. ”
“No,” I blurt.
“What do you mean? No?”
“She has you.”
Well, that only got her crying again, dumbass. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted. Please, go on.”
“All of the bills were piling up, and the car was broken down. I had no job prospects lined up that wouldn’t fire me if I kept calling out to take care of her.
Then I saw a post in my social media mailbox for a modeling assignment.
I’ve never modeled a day in my life. But I needed a miracle in the worst way.
So, I called the number and spoke with the guy.
It seemed too good to be true. That should’ve been the first red flag. ”
Grace digs around in her hoodie for a tissue. “The money was too tempting to pass up. It wouldn’t solve everything, but at least it would give us time.” She shakes her head, and I can’t hold back any longer.
Scooping her up, I pull her into my lap, airport baggage claim terminal or not. Holding her against me, I stroke her hair and her back, hoping to calm her a bit.
“Once I got there, I had a suspicion something wasn’t right,” she splutters.
“But I was committed at that point. All I could think about was helping my mother and me stay out of hot water. So I did as he said.” She straightens.
“But I never agreed to… to taking pictures in a compromising position. Before I was aware of what was happening, someone had grabbed my arms and lowered the sheet and…”
Grace collapses into hysteria, burying her face in my chest and sobbing as if she’s held it in for far too long.
“It’s as if the universe itself was conspiring with him.
I was at my lowest point when he approached me about this.
I’m normally so clear-headed. Would never follow some get rich quick scheme.
I’ve worked hard my whole life. But I was desperate,” she chokes out.
It’s taking everything in me not to finish this asshole. “Is that what you were doing here the last time?”
“Yes.”
My hands curl into fists as she speaks. “So why in hell did you come back here?”
She sits up. “I’m pretty sure I’m being blackmailed.”
“Pretty sure? Wouldn’t someone threatening you with blackmail make that pretty clear?”
Her gaze drops to her lap, where she’s wringing her hands.
“He was saying a bunch of stuff that didn’t make sense.
At one point, I wasn’t sure he was even talking to the right person.
” I tilt my head in confusion and wait for her to continue.
“He was really pissed off that my boyfriend threatened him.”
I shift in my seat so suddenly I nearly tumble her onto the floor. “Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?”
Grace blinks back at me silently, and for a second my world stops spinning on its axis. “No. That’s what I’m saying.” She’s recovered enough that she’s able to slowly and succinctly pronounce each word as if there is silent punctuation between each of them.
Then it hits me.
You. You’re the boyfriend, numb-nuts.
How has this woman made me so unhinged that I’ve lost touch with reality?
How? Have I somehow forgotten my visit to him?
That after I left, Max’s entourage threatened Victor within an inch of his life if he ever attempted to print more photos of Grace?
Max told me to cool my jets and stay out of it.
That Gianni’s men could take care of it, allowing us to stay under the radar.
But clearly, this moron has a death wish.
I swear, I was a reasonable, intelligent man until this beauty came along.
Sure, I made questionable choices with women, dating some well-disguised (okay, not all of them were all that well-disguised) harpies, only interested in my money and social status.
Where this girl seemingly wants nothing from me. And it’s tearing me up.
I’ve been stalking her like a madman, continuing to hang on, praying she’ll get me out of this apparent friend zone we’ve settled into. Not to mention I spent ungodly amounts of money, as well as my time, and Max’s, to get every goddamn one of those magazines destroyed.
But I’d do it all again.
Again, and again.
Anything for her.
Forcing myself to calm down, I press on. “So you’re here because he threatened you how?”
“He said if I returned and signed a new contract giving permission to use the pictures for one additional run, he’d give me my money on the spot along with all of the negatives.”
My face heats. The rage brewing inside me could heat solar systems beyond galaxies far, far away. All right, all right. I’m a guy. I think in Star Wars. I’m going to kill him. But first, I need to focus on this dear, sweet girl.
I force myself to breathe. To slow the violent pulse roaring in my ears.
Because if I don’t, I already know how this ends…
with me in an orange jumpsuit and a mugshot Devon will never let me hear the end of.
I need to get my emotions under control and be smart about this.
Max will know what to do. He always does.
If anyone can dismantle a mess like this without leaving bodies behind, it’s him.
Okay, maybe I won’t mind so much if he leaves Victor’s body behind, but at least the two of us won’t be tied to it. I’ll call him the moment I get back. We’ll make this right. Quietly, and permanently. I look back down at her, my hands still resting lightly at her waist. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitates. Probably unfair to ask after all she’s been through. Yet that hesitation hurts more than it should. But I get it. Trust isn’t something she should hand out freely anymore. Not after the world keeps proving it doesn’t deserve it.
“Yes,” she finally says, her voice small but resolute.
The word lands heavy in my chest. This is a huge leap forward. A gift I won’t take lightly. And I silently vow to share all of my dirty secrets with her when the time is right. She needs to know that her trust in me is both earned and appreciated.
“Then let me handle this,” I whisper quietly, looking straight into her sad blue eyes. “I’ll explain everything later. But you don’t need to go anywhere near that man. Ever again.”
“But he said—”
I lift her chin carefully, again forcing her to meet my eyes.
“I don’t care what he said!” My voice is more thunderous than I anticipated, my wrath fueling my bitter tone.
Taking a fortifying breath, I continue with a calm and steady cadence.
“He can say whatever he wants, Gracie. He has no idea who he’s dealing with. ”
Her breath stutters.
“Now grab your things, baby girl. You’re coming with me.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“You’ve got one weekend here,” I add, a slow smile breaking through the tension. “We have forty-eight hours to check off as much of that Viva Las Vegas bucket list as we can. Then we’re heading home. And you’re never losing another ounce of sleep over this fuckwaffle again.”
For a second, she stares at me unblinking as if she’s in a daze. Then she collapses into my arms, holding on like I’m the only solid thing left in her world.
It’s as if we’ve come full circle. But from here on out, she’s going to know she doesn’t ever have to face anything alone.
I squeeze her against my chest, full of gratitude for wherever this may take us.
If I’m stuck in the friend zone, so be it.
But I’ll be the best male friend she’s ever had.
And perhaps, one day, she’ll give me a chance. After I earn her trust.
Because somewhere during this weekend of fun comes the hard part. When I’m going to have to tell her everything. How I found the magazines. How I tracked her down. How far I’ve already gone, wanting to protect her.
No more secrets. Not if I want even a fraction of a chance with this woman.
“Ben?”
I brush her golden locks back from her sweet, swollen face before swiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Yeah?”
“What can I possibly do to thank you?” her voice quavers.
I should reassure her that she never needs to repay anyone for their kindness. That she deserves the moon and the stars. Anyone who is blessed to receive even one of her sweet smiles would gladly do whatever they could to have her shine more in their direction. But I don’t. Instead, I say…
“Marry me?”