Chapter 13
13
Greer
I leave the study as soon as I can. I won’t let Charles see how his words have affected me. My peace is short-lived as I run into Aimée. And my mother.
“There she is,” Aimée says in a cheery tone that comes off fake. “Time to get the bride ready for her big day.”
Oh my god. Can this day get any worse? Wait. I don’t think I want to know the answer to that.
Mother turns to me. This is the first time I’ve seen her since I graduated from college. She looks the same, just older. I guess Botox can’t hide her age anymore, though God knows she’s tried.
“Thank you for inviting me to your wedding.”
My gaze shoots to Aimée, who looks away.
I say, “Of course. It’s good to see you, Mother.”
The awkward tension is almost unbearable.
I turn to Aimée. “You said something about a dress?”
“I did. It’s upstairs, in the pink guest room.”
She says this as if I’m supposed to know where that is. When Grandfather lived here, nothing was pink in the house except for my Grandmother’s parlor. I smile at the memory. Grandfather claimed to hate the bright pink floral wallpaper, but never changed it after Grandmother passed away.
Aimée says, “This way.”
I follow her up the stairs, down a familiar hallway. My chest is tight as we enter the room. The ‘pink guest room’ is the room I used to stay in when I spent the holidays with Grandfather. My parents stayed across the hall. I wonder what changes have been made to that room.
Mother says, “I love what you did with this space. The furniture was so drab in here before.”
Aimée nods. “It was a beast to get it out of here. We ended up having it hauled to the dump with all the other stuff we cleared out.”
That pretty much summarizes my childhood. It all ended up in the dump.
In the center of the room is a rack with three wedding gowns on it. I stop, staring at it.
Aimée says, “This is all I could manage to find in your size on such short notice.”
“Yes, well, if Greer took better care of herself, then this wouldn’t be an issue.” Mother turns to me. “This is why I always stayed on you to eat better.”
I laugh. “Wow. Guess some things never change. I’m guessing it wouldn’t matter if I told you I had an eating disorder in college, would it? That I’ve struggled with food my entire life because of you.”
“You can’t blame me for your eating habits.”
“You’re right. But I can blame you for the emotional abuse you put me through.” I exhale shakily. “And for the physical abuse.”
Her eyes widen as she turns to Aimée. “See what I go through? Everything is my fault. Never mind the fact that she was an unruly child and needed to be punished all the time. I guess it’s just easier to blame me!”
Anger and resentment that I’ve held since I was a child burst out. “You beat me, Mother! Don’t try to sugar coat it. And Dad let it happen.”
Saying the words makes me pause. He had to know what was happening. The bruises. The excessive make-up when I was far too young to be wearing it. The phone calls from the school asking if everything was fine at home. He had to know. And yet he did nothing. My god. He’s just as much to blame as her.
Blinking back tears, I say, “You need to leave, Mother, and never try to contact me again.”
“Wha—”
“You heard my bride.”
Spinning, I find Grant standing in the doorway. He gives me a small smile before turning his attention back to my mother.
“Go. And if I hear that you’ve tried to contact Greer, I’ll make sure the world knows what a monster you are.”
I expect her to put up a fight or at least say something to defend herself or even maybe say that we’re wrong. She does nothing. No, she spins on her heels and walks out of the guest room. Out of my life…
The relief is immediate.
Grant turns to Aimée. “I’d like a moment with my bride.”
“But it’s bad luck?—”
“Fuck luck,” he says. “Go.”
She waits a beat before hurrying away. Grant closes the door, turning the lock. I’m silent as he faces me.
“Baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“About which part?” I ask with a bitter laugh. “The wedding or my mother?”
“Your mother.”
I shrug. “I mean, I’m guessing you heard enough. Thanks for taking up for me. You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.” He moves closer. “How are you feeling about the wedding?”
“I’m mostly wondering how long you knew that this was going to happen.”
He says, “I’ve known for a few days. Ever since Zhāng was killed and I found out I was being promoted.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tears mist my eyes, but I blink them away. I’m not going to cry, dammit.
“I didn’t tell you because I needed time.”
“Time to find a way out of this?”
He moves closer. “Time to get everything ready. I was going to do this in Mexico, but it seems your cousin can’t stand not being the one calling the shots.”
“Do what in Mexico?”
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring box. Slowly, he lowers to one knee, opening the box. The ring is stunning. I mean, I’d expect nothing less from Grant Carter, but this ring really takes the cake. There’s one large diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds and emeralds, and the band has a whimsical feel. It’s perfect.
“Greer Arwen Blanc, will you marry me?”
I look into Grant’s eyes and find myself shaking my head.
“Grant, we can’t do this.”
He stands slowly, as if he’s afraid he’s going to scare me off.
“Greer—”
“Please don’t make me explain myself. We both know why this is a bad idea…why this will never work.”
“I was going to ask you to marry me before I spoke to Charles,” he says. “Did this rush my timeline a bit? Yes. But this is what I want. I was kind of hoping you’d want it, too.”
“This is crazy. We don’t know each other. Not really. And good sex isn’t a reason to get married.”
His lips lift in a smile. “Good sex, eh? Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. But, believe me, baby, there’s more to us than great sex.”
“Grant—”
“I’m not going to force you to do this.”
His words surprise me. No, shock is more like it. He’s been ordered by the Brotherhood, which means he has to marry me.
“How kind,” I scoff. “But we both know I don’t have a say in what happens today.”
“You do have a say, Greer. I won’t force you into this.”
I meet his gaze. “Why? Because the thought of marrying me makes you sick?”
His words have danced around my head since I was sixteen. Now that we’re really being forced to marry each other, I need him to know that I won’t do this. I can’t. I can’t be in a relationship knowing how he feels about me. Yes, the sex is good. Great, even. But what happens when that gets old, and we’re left to figure out the rest of our lives? What then?
“I’m going to say this once and then we’re never going to mention what you overheard that night. I said I didn’t want to marry you because you’re not suited for this life. You are too sweet, Little Fae. This life will make you jaded and hard, and I cannot let that happen.” He shakes his head. “Fuck. You were sixteen, Greer. I had to stop them because they would have made us marry the moment you turned eighteen. You wouldn’t have been able to go to college or do any of the things you’ve done as an adult. You sure as fuck wouldn’t have been able to go somewhere like Unfortunate Souls .”
“I hear what you’re saying, Grant, but that doesn’t take away my fears.”
“Tell me what your fears are, baby. Please .”
The anguish in his eyes has me speaking.
“We’re just getting to know each other. What happens when the newness fades? I watched my father chase after my mother for years until he became jaded. Hell, I’m sure that’s why he agreed to invoke Rule 3 when Grandfather asked.”
“We aren’t them, Greer. All we can do is try our best. If, for some reason, this doesn’t work, then we’ll take it from there.” He touches the breast pocket of his suit. “I had papers drawn up that will ensure you’re taken care of. No matter what happens.”
My gaze meets his. “No matter what happens? What does that mean?”
“If things don’t work out, you’ll be taken care of. And all of your assets remain yours. If something happens to me, everything goes to you.”
My stomach drops. “Don’t say that.”
“There’s someone killing Elite Members. It’s a very real possibility that something might happen to me.”
“Grant—”
“There’s also a clause that says if we have sons, they don’t have to join the Brotherhood just because of us. It will be their choice. And our daughters won’t be used as pawns.”
“There’s no way Charles will allow that to happen.”
“Fuck Charles.” His eyes flash with fire. “Once you sign the papers, he won’t be able to do shit. Not without exposing himself and the Brotherhood.”
“But that would expose you, too.”
His lips lift. “It would expose a lot of people. Which is why I know Charles won’t say anything.”
He’s addressing everything I could possibly fear, and yet I still hesitate.
“Look at me, Little Fae.”
I lift my gaze to meet his.
“No matter what you choose, I’m going to walk out of this room at your side. We’ll face Charles together and go from there.” He gives me a small smile before stepping away. “I’ll give you some time to think this over.”
My pulse thrums in my neck as he walks to the couch near the window, sitting as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. My gaze goes to the rack of gowns that Aimée had delivered. Even though it was short notice, I spot a Bruno label, the hit designer from New York. He’s the same person who made Hannah’s gown. My feet move, carrying me to the rack. The dress is basic, but beautiful. It’s not a traditional white, but more of a cream color. I glance back at Grant, who is watching me. If I’m getting married, then it’s going to be in this dress. And it’s going to be to Grant Carter.
“Do you have a pen?”
He smiles. “I do.”
“Then, let’s do this.”