Chapter 48 – Grant
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
GRANT
“You’re slacking on the job, Officer Sexy.” Desi’s voice comes through the phone loud and clear. It causes me to perk up in my seat at the end of a monotonous day and a monster hangover after a few too many beers with my brothers last night.
“If it isn’t my favorite nosy best friend,” I say with a laugh, but I am relieved to hear from her. Maybe she’s heard from Emerson since she sure as hell isn’t returning my calls.
“You got that right. Nosy is better than nonexistent. Have you talked to our girl lately?” she asks, switching topics to exactly why I was drinking heavily last night. Worry does that shit to you.
“Not for seventy-two hours.” More like seventy-eight, I mentally correct after I look at the clock on the wall. “But she’s like that . . . when she feels like she’s getting too close to me, she backs off a bit.”
“So is she? Are you? I mean, she just up and took off for three days, should I be worried that you did something to her that I’m going to have to put your balls in a vise for and torture them until you beg for forgiveness?”
“Ouch.” I shift in my seat and remind myself to never piss off Desi.
“Well?”
“No. I didn’t do anything to push her away. She came to the house the other night upset about . . . a few things, and when I woke in the morning, she had taken off,” I explain, not sure how much Desi knows about Emerson’s past. If she didn’t know anything, there was no way in hell I would be the one to divulge it to her.
“And you just let her go?”
“I was sleeping . . . so I didn’t know she’d left.”
“I’m going to be nosy here and ask, what are your intentions with her?”
“She’s always been the one, Desi.” My own answer stuns me. I say it off the cuff and before it’s even out of my mouth, I know it’s the complete truth.
It’s always been Emerson. Every woman was a substitute, a way to pass time, because deep down, I knew she and I would meet again.
God, the fucking woman is gone three days, and I’ve turned into a sappy, sackless wonder.
Silence fills the connection, and I’m not sure if it’s because Desi is letting me process my own epiphany or if she’s just as stunned by it as I am.
“Well, it’s about goddamn time you realize it. Jesus H. This whole dance was getting old. So, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”
“I can handle my own relationship. Goodbye, Desi.” I laugh as I end the connection and shake my head. I love the woman to death, but she is a royal pain in the ass.
True to my opinion of her, she calls me right back. I debate whether to answer it, but then realize we never got to the part where she tells me if she’s heard from Emerson.
“I know you can handle your own relationship, you jackass, but the reason I called was to tell you that I talked to Emerson and something is going on with her.”
“What do you mean?” I lean forward, worried and relieved all at the same time.
“She called me last night and she was a mess when normally?—”
“She isn’t a mess.” My mind goes to the angry red scars on her arms, and I hate that I wonder when I see her next if there will be more. If the time away will have helped her cope or made it harder. A selfish part of me wants her to realize it’s easier when she’s with me. That she doesn’t have to run because I’m here for her. To help her. To hold her.
“Exactly.”
“What did she say?”
“She wasn’t making sense, Grant. She was rambling on about doubt and trust and I don’t know what else . . . everything about the conversation worried me. What was troubling her the other night when she came to your house?”
“ Shit .” I sigh. This is all my fault. The damn ball started rolling because of me. “I took her to a call the other night. She didn’t really see anything, but I think the whole scenario affected her and . . . fuck .”
“She’s home now,” she whispers, telling me what I need to know.
“I’m on my way there,” I say, standing and grabbing my keys.
“If you break her heart, Grant, you’ll break her spirit.”
“No one said anything about hearts here.”