Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
GREYSON
“Have you ever made chili before?” Sage asks. He and his friend Ethan are painting the back wall of our Discreet Daily Deeds booth in a calming green color while I scour recipes, pulling out what I like to create my own.
“I have two days to perfect it,” I say.
“Not to…cast doubt,” Ethan says. He’s the only one of us who actually grew up in Happiness, so his intel is key. “But in the South, we start making chili with our dads as soon as we’re old enough to stir a pot. Same with grilling and making secret rubs.”
“What the hell is a secret rub?” Braxton asks.
“It’s usually a blend of spices, maybe some brown sugar, that you mix together and then rub all over whatever meat you’re cooking.” Ethan is older than Sage, but the two of them instantly bonded over football.
“Hmm.” A secret rub. I could work with that. “Interesting.”
“What about the bake-off? Do you honestly think you can win every event?” Sage asks.
“You doubt me? I’m crushed.”
“Well, Uncle, this isn’t a boardroom. If we were acquiring a new company, I know you could do it.
But here you are, at the fairgrounds, wearing a $10,000 suit in 100-degree heat while quizzing everyone around you about their likes and dislikes and grilling them for every Savvy-related detail they’re willing to share. ”
“Your point is?”
“My point is, this is out of character. Have you even slept?”
“I think what Sage is trying to say…” Braxton finishes screwing in the latch on the treasure chest he built to store everyone’s wishes. “Is that we’re concerned.”
“About you and Savvy,” Sage says.
Her name has a direct line to my heart, and it races as my mind conjures all the ways she could be in trouble. “Savvy? Why are you worried about Savvy?”
Sage and Braxton share an uneasy expression while Ethan ducks out behind the booth.
“You’re fixated, Grey,” Brax says. “We just… We know you’re seeing similarities between Violet and Savvy. We just want to make sure that…”
“That what?” Sweat trickles down my spine, and my jaw tightens with tension.
“We just want to make sure you’re in this for the right reasons.
” Sage is choosing his words carefully, and it makes me uneasy.
The three of us don’t censor ourselves around each other.
Ever. “I know you’ve always carried guilt over my mom’s death.
” His words butterfly my chest open, and the knife lodges painfully in a rib.
“We just want to be sure that you aren’t projecting those feelings of guilt onto Savvy because if that’s the basis for your relationship with her, she’ll end up hurt again. ”
“Grey.” Braxton gentles his tone, but I can’t look at him.
I’m angry and confused. If I face him, he’ll feel the wrath of my confusion.
“We’re not saying that’s the case, but if roles were reversed, you’d point it out. That’s all we’re doing. It’s just a conversation.”
I know it’s the truth. I was a dick when Braxton got engaged, but I was being selfish. They’re coming at this from a place of love, I know they are.
“Maybe at first,” I admit. “Fixing things has been my coping mechanism since I was twelve years old, and Savvy, well, she needs me even if she won’t admit it.”
“You can’t fix her, Uncle Grey—only Savvy can do that.”
Braxton’s phone rings. He glances at it, then sends the caller to voicemail.
“I know. And somewhere along the way, I went from wanting to fix her… No, that’s a lie.
” I drag my hand through my hair and collect my thoughts.
“I still want to fix her, but how I go about it has changed. I don’t want to change her.
I don’t want to make her do things she’s not ready for.
I just want to be there for her, by her side, holding her hand while she figures things out. We work. Together, we work.”
“I think you do too,” Braxton says.
“You want to be her partner.” Sage’s eyes glisten with emotion. He used to wear eyeliner to hide from people, but he stopped that shortly after moving to Happiness, where everyone accepted him just as he is—a sensitive genius who happens to be a gifted kicker on a football team.
Could they accept all of me too?
“I do,” I say. “I want her to be mine. Not like Riley wants her—I don’t want to own her, but because she wants to be mine and she wants me to be hers.”
Braxton’s phone rings again, and he frowns. “Hold on, it’s Madi again. Let me just make sure everything’s okay.” He steps to the side of the booth while Sage and I watch on. “Hello? Wait, Madi. Slow down. What happened?”
I step around the booth and study Braxton’s face. His expression contorts, and I turn to stone.
Something’s wrong.
“When? What did he say?” Braxton looks to me, and I feel it in my bones—something happened to Savvy. “We’ll be right there. Did someone call the police? Not Chief, but the station.”
My mind summons all the ways Savvy could be hurt, and I’m blinded by guilt so powerful, my vision blurs.
Why didn’t I insist the Harringtons come immediately?
Sage pats my back. “Breathe, Uncle.”
His words act as a defibrillator, and I greedily inhale but force myself to release the breath slowly.
This is my fault. I should have stayed with her. My fault.
“She’s okay,” Brax says. “But Riley threatened her at Blissy’s, and she…”
“She what?” I don’t recognize the sound of my own voice.
“She has some bruising on her upper arms.”
“He put his hands on her?” Each word comes out louder and harsher than the one before as I follow Braxton to the parking lot. “What happened? How did it happen?”
“Madi was pretty upset. I don’t have all the details, but Moose is there with her, and Chief Rigsby is on his way to Blissy’s now.”
We reach the car, and Sage holds out his hand at the driver’s side door. “You’re too upset to drive. Let me.”
I toss them to him because if I don’t, we’ll waste precious time fighting over it. I slip into the back seat to give myself time to clear my head. I love my brother and my nephew, but right now, the only thought in my head is that I didn’t protect Savvy—again.
Ten minutes later, Sage double-parks in front of Blissy’s. I jump out, but my mind is no clearer. There’s only one thing driving me forward, and it’s an overwhelming urgency to see Savvy.
The bell above the door rings loudly as I enter. I scan left to right until I land on Savvy, sitting in the corner, facing the door, with Chief Rigsby sitting in front of her, while Madi and Moose flank her on either side.
Moose has his hand on her shoulder in a protective, fatherly gesture I appreciate more than I ever could have imagined.
This is why Braxton and Sage love this town so much. Even when they’re not around, they know there are people who will protect those they love in their absence.
We’ve never had anything like that before.
Savvy lifts her head, and our gazes lock, solidify, band us to one stream of consciousness, and my chest nearly explodes.
She isn’t a replacement for the loss of my sister. She isn’t a new outlet for my grief. She isn’t a vessel to carry my child.
She’s the piece of me that’s been missing—the faith to my skepticism, the light to my dark, the matter that fills the void of me.
Simply put, she’s the best parts of myself I forgot existed, and when she stood before me as my own personal reflection, I fought her every day because I was scared of what I had blocked out. That stops now.
Moose nods, then slips back to allow me access to my girl. In my periphery, Sage and Braxton surround Madi. The three of them sit silently, allowing me to stand guard over my future—Savannah Monroe.
“Are you okay?” I scan every inch of her face, her neck, shoulders, belly, all the way to her toes, then repeat the process in reverse.
“I’m fine, Grey.” Her voice wavers. She’s putting on a brave face for everyone around her.
“Savvy, we’ll need to take pictures of the bruising,” Chief Rigsby says. “Would you like to do that here, or somewhere more private?”
I glance around the space, seeing it for the first time since I entered to find it nearly empty.
“Blissy sent everyone home,” Moose says behind me. Regardless of blood, this man is family.
“Here’s fine.” Savvy only focuses on my face, as if she’s pulling strength from my proximity, and it fucks me up seven ways to Sunday, but I will stay strong for her.
She’s staring at me as though she’s pleading with me for something, but I can’t interpret what she needs, so I gently take her left hand in mine, squeezing it lightly, hoping it gives her whatever she’s searching for.
As her palm slips into mine, I feel her nervous energy flowing into my veins. I keep my breathing even, calm, relaxed, and eventually she mimics my cadence.
With her right hand, she slowly lifts the sleeve of her T-shirt over her shoulder. I don’t want to look, but I need to see what he’s done to her.
Another squeeze to her hand. Another shot of confidence I don’t feel. Another subliminal message that I’m here for her.
Then I look lower and fight back a gag.
Deep-purple fingerprints have already formed on her thin arms. That fucker squeezed so hard that welts have formed where his fingers pressed her skin between them.
“Grey?” She’s close to breaking. I hear it in the way she says my name—unsure, scared, and too timid.
I glare at the marks on her arm, blink as though my lashes are the shutter of a camera, and burn this image into my mind for eternity, then vow that it will never happen again.
Another slow blink of my damp lashes, and I wrangle my self-control into submission, then lift my gaze to her haunted one.
“This will never happen again,” I whisper.
She nods, and a single tear lands in the crease of her eye. Using my free hand, I wipe it away before it has the chance to fall.
“Don’t cry, baby. He isn’t worth your tears.”
“Th—they’re not for him.”
I frown but actively work at keeping my body language open and loose for her. “I’ll always carry your pain, Sav. I’ll dry your tears and kiss them away.”