Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
GREYSON
Six Months Ago
Guilt.
It sits heavy and solid in my gut.
It always has.
It always will.
That’s what happens when your sister dies a senseless death you couldn’t—didn’t—prevent.
Or when you witness your father do despicable things, expecting you to follow in his footsteps, but you’re too young or too weak to speak up—that shit changes you.
Too bad for him, I’ve done everything since to be the exact opposite of him.
Until now.
Because of her, I’ve turned into someone I said I would never be. I hate myself for it, but I hate her too.
And now she’s here. I sense her before I see her—I always do. We’re connected in a way that shouldn’t be possible. She’s my missing piece, and I feel the ghost pains of her every time she comes near.
My thumb hovers over the send button, the sick feeling of betrayal washing over me for the second time in less than a minute. It doesn’t help my mood that we’re standing in a park in the middle of January and I’m freezing my ass off to celebrate something as fickle as love.
Fucking weddings.
“Pops,” Savvy hisses. “I swear to God, if we can’t get the soot off your suit, Madi will lose her mind.”
My fingers clench around the phone until the whooshing sound starts, then I relax my grip. Shit. Message sent.
Guilt grows spikes and claws its way up my throat, but I pocket my phone and rush to Savvy’s side—I always do.
I’ll unpack my screwups later. Right now, I need to focus on whatever’s happening on the lawn. If Pops hurt Savvy, I’ll string the guy up by his old pointy elbows. I’ve never met someone who can cause so must destruction under the misguided muse of concern.
The park is decorated for Braxton’s wedding, with white lights that twinkle like stars while we stand here waiting on his bride, but Pops is leaving a trail of smoke in his wake, and my nerves get the better of me.
Lifting Savvy’s arms, I inspect her skin and see no burns, cuts, or other injuries, but she has soot on her face, neck, and the left side of her body.
What the fuck did this old fool do now?
“What the hell are you doing? Let me go.” She wrenches her arm free and glares at me.
This is why I’m wearing guilt like a second skin. I should not be lusting after Savvy Monroe—when we barely tolerate each other—while aching for the connection I have with a faceless woman I’ll never meet but can’t stop texting with either.
But night after night, I fall into bed with Savvy as though a rabid force of nature is pushing us together, only to wake up searching for a message from my Firefly.
Self-control has always been paramount for me, but where Savvy is concerned, I appear to have none.
And it’s so very wrong.
We want completely different things.
We’re not even compatible, for fuck’s sake.
Fighting is not foreplay…except in our case, it’s not only foreplay, but also the accelerant to our most deviant desires.
“It’s not me. Pops set his suit jacket on fire over at the Chug.” Savvy waves her hands in front of my face, and I tune everyone else out. Even Braxton, my half brother, best friend, and tonight’s groom.
I forget everything as Savvy ramps up. Her arms wave wildly as she speaks. I like when she gets worked up like this, her cheeks tinging pink. It reminds me of the color of her skin when she comes.
And just like that, my cock jerks in my pants as though she’s reciting a magical incantation to lure him to her side.
It makes no sense at all. I don’t even like her…do I?
Savvy’s loud and demanding. She pushes my buttons just to irritate me. She forces me to communicate and engage. She’s nothing like my Firefly.
I’m so goddamn confused, and I hate myself for it.
Savvy or Firefly? Firefly or Savvy?
My nephew, Sage, thinks I should see a therapist. If he knew half the shit flying around my head, he’d surely force the issue.
I study Savvy’s reaction as I lift my thumb to wipe away the soot from her cheekbone. Her expressive green eyes grow large, but it’s the sharp intake of breath that I love.
My gaze darts lower as the column of her delicate neck works to swallow.
I’m itching to wrap my hands around it, and when she shivers, I groan low and deep in my throat because I know she’s thinking the same thing.
Braxton’s audible gasp brings our situation back into focus, and I drop my hands.
He’s never seen me react this way because no one has ever fractured my control the way Savvy does.
Once again, she’s forced me to lose all restraint around her.
“Tell us what you want us to do.” It’s shocking how calm my voice sounds because the internal battle I’m experiencing is overriding all common sense.
I’m an asshole for loving how I fluster her yet doing it anyway.
She blinks.
“Fine. Ah, hold this stuff so I can wash the soot off Pops before he ruins Madi’s dress.” She shoves all kinds of shit into my hands. A hairbrush, her phone, some sticky tape that says it’s for boobs—where the hell did she get this, and what exactly is it doing?
Leaning back, I scan her long, lean form.
Her emerald dress hugs the slight curve of her hip, and the long brown hair I love is pulled high on her head in a sleek ponytail that has my blood heating—I can’t wait to wrap my fist around it later.
Her tits are the perfect size, and now I’m imagining removing tape from her naked skin.
At least until Pops gives her a hard time. He’s a seventy-year-old menace.
Braxton says something that I answer on autopilot. I keep my focus on Savvy as she ushers the old nuisance toward a tree.
“If my phone rings, you have to answer it,” Savvy calls over her shoulder. “Moose said he’ll call when he’s around the corner with Madi. The code is 5212 if you need it.”
Who the hell rides to their wedding on a horse and carriage in January? That’s a hard fucking no for me. Especially when I can practically see my breath every time I open my mouth.
“You really are an arsehole,” Cian mutters in his thick Irish brogue.
“Why am I the asshole again?” I couldn’t tear my attention away from Savvy if I tried.
“Because you’re still secretly trying to get a baby via surrogacy instead of putting yourself out there and finding a loving, stable relationship with some nice girl,” Sage says, joining us. “Someone like Savvy, maybe.”
Jesus Christ. Not this again. Why did I ever blurt my innermost wish to a crowd full of dickheads? I should have just shown up one day with my baby in tow instead of filling them in on my intentions to have a child of my own—my way.
And Savvy is not a nice girl. She’s the spawn of the devil…and sexy as sin.
My so-called friends laugh with Sage, but I’m saved from more hazing when Savvy’s phone pings. Shuffling all the shit in my hands, I turn her phone over.
She has a new email notification, but also…
No.
Just…no.
This can’t be happening. It…can’t.
Using the palm of my hand, I press hard into my eyeballs because I’m seeing things—hallucinating from the cold, maybe. That’s possible, right? But when I remove my hand and blink rapidly, Savvy’s screen doesn’t change. There’s an older notification too.
New message from ChasingColors42
My fingers are stiff as I type in her passcode. It takes me three tries to get it right, but when I do, the ground sways beneath my feet.
Without remorse, I find and open the app for Ray of Hope, the surrogacy center I’ve been working with.
The guilt I’ve been carrying morphs into something much darker, angrier. It’s violent in a way I’ve never experienced as messages between me as ChasingColors42 and Savvy as Firefly12 fill the screen.
She knew.
All this time. All these messages—she knew she was talking to me—she had to have known.
I scroll back to the beginning, where I told her I had just moved to a small town after my grandfather passed away. To where I told her about Sage, and when I told her I’d just found out that my best friend was also my brother.
Where I told her the real reason I wanted a baby of my own.
I haven’t cried since the night my sister died, but emotion pricks at the corners of my eyes now.
I’ve spent months worrying that I was growing feelings for both Savvy and a faceless woman I was determined to make my surrogate, only to find out that they’re one and the same.
I’ve been tearing myself up for turning into what I feared most—a cheater, a liar.
Savvy’s eyes meet mine, and hatred stronger than the devil himself consumes me.
Betrayal is the one thing I can never get over.
Now she’s become the one person I can’t forgive. Or forget because with one lie of omission, she made me believe I was turning into the one person I hate most in life—my father.
But she’s done more than betray me. She might have actually succeeded in what my father never could.
Savvy now has the power to destroy me with my vulnerabilities, my secrets, my truth.
I don’t remember moving, but Savvy’s worried stare stays locked on mine as I march through the park. When I’m close enough to touch, I shove all her shit into her hands, then grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger.
Keep it together, Grey. Keep it together.
She tries to pull away when I spit on my pocket square, then roughly wipe away the remaining soot from her face, and I should let her go. I should walk away, but the hurt that’s currently feasting on my heart won’t allow me to.
“Stop it, Grey. That’s disgusting.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve swapped spit.” I narrow my eyes and lock my jaw. “Firefly12.”
And this, right here, is why I’m still touching her. I needed to feel her reaction. See the truth in her face, breathe it in when she gasps in the knowledge that she’s been caught. Witness the moment she realizes she’s sealed our fate as enemies.
“What? How?” Her gaze darts back and forth between my eyes at lightning speed, and I simply point to her phone.
“What the hell is firefly? And do we really have to do this now?” Braxton pleads.
“No. We don’t have to do this. Ever.” I don’t even attempt to control the ice in my tone.
Savvy and I are done.
I sense Braxton walking away from me, but Savvy stands before me with tears in her eyes.
Too bad for her because tears mean nothing to me. After listening to my sister cry behind her locked bedroom door for months, I’m immune to them now.
“Grey, wait. Let me explain,” she pleads.
“No.” The word is yanked from the deepest recesses of my chest. “You’ve betrayed me in a way I didn’t even know I was vulnerable. There’s no coming back from that. You thought we were enemies before?”
Someone clears their throat, so I lean in as close as I can without touching her and lower my voice until it’s no more than a threat on a breeze.
“Stay the fuck away from me, you fucking liar, or I will destroy you. Enemies is too tame a word for what we are now, and believe me, you don’t want to see what I do to those who betray me.
This was your one and only free hit. Stay away from me. ”
Her chin trembles—something I’ve never seen before. Savvy is one of the strongest, most pig-headed women I’ve ever met. And I’m a depraved asshole because it gives me the slightest hint of satisfaction as I push past her to take up my duties as best man.
Before I step next to Braxton, I shoot off a text to my assistant, Quinn.
Me: Come up with a believable emergency that will get me the fuck out of Happiness, Georgia and back to California by sunrise.
Quinn: Done.
Quinn: What did Braxton do now?
What the hell is she talking about, what has he done now? Braxton is the only one who’s been by my side since the day I lost it all.
Quinn: Is he leaving you to clean up a mess again?
Again? I’m too angry to deal with this bullshit.
Me: I want to be on the plane in six hours.
Quinn: I’ll send you details shortly.
Pocketing my phone, I inhale a breath so deep my lungs burn, then release it slowly and plaster on the fake smile I learned as a child.
“Everything okay?” Braxton whispers.
“Never been better,” I lie. “Let’s get you married.”
My best friend and brother smiles so broadly that I’m surprised sunshine and fucking rainbows don’t shoot from his mouth.
He looks like an idiot, but even as my insides rot with lies and betrayal that fester like cancer, I’m relieved that he’s happy.
Some of us are just not that lucky.