Chapter 11
When I ducked into the tent, I wasn’t expecting to see the sleeping bags separated again. And I had to admit, I felt a tinge of disappointment. I longed for that feeling I had the first time Grayson held me. Like the world couldn’t hurt me anymore.
We settled into our sleeping bags. Grayson was on his side, turned towards me, using his arm as a pillow. I wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position, with no luck. Grayson was quietly watching me with a crooked smile.
“How are you so okay with sleeping on the hard ground?” I frowned at him. He looked perfectly at ease.
He shrugged his one shoulder. “I’m just not such a princess.”
“I wish you would stop calling me that.”
He reached up and rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Why? You’re beautiful and brave and kind and clever. And stubborn. And a spoiled little brat. And a real pain in my ass. Is that not a princess?”
I gaped at him. “I should have finished you off when I had the chance.” I stuck my nose in the air but regretted it immediately. That’s something a princess would do, wasn’t it?
The smugness fell from his lips. He slid his fingers across the cut on his neck. “Why didn’t you?”
I tried to keep my voice soft. I didn’t want him to feel insulted, but it was true. “I’m not like you. I’m not a killer.”
He watched me intently. “Not everyone gets to grow up in an ideal world like yours, Ava. Not everyone has had the luxury of walking through life unscathed with their morals intact.”
I didn’t know what to say. So, he did have a sad story that turned him into a monster.
Was he trying to make excuses for what he’d done to them?
“Is that why you killed the woman and child? Because life was too cruel to you?” I asked sardonically.
I couldn’t keep the disdain from my tone. Then again, I wasn’t really trying.
Confusion marked his brow before it turned to anger. “Don’t talk about them,” he sneered and turned his back on me.
I wasn’t done. “Is that how I will end up? On a photo in your fucking trophy drawer?” Gods, how had I forgotten how sick this man was?
“Stop,” he growled lowly, and my instincts screamed at me to listen. He was still turned away from me, but his body was shaking with anger.
No. I needed to remind myself. “How vile of a man are you to do that to an innocent little girl? There was nothing left of her!”
He turned abruptly and grabbed me by the throat. “Shut your mouth.”
The disgust and anger overpowered my ability to feel fear. I drove the palm of my hand into his nose as hard as I could. I was done being manhandled.
He swore and let go of me, clutching his nose. There was blood leaking through his fingers.
Good.
“Don’t ever touch me like that again!” I wanted to get away from him. I moved to the door of the tent, but he put his arm around my torso and pulled me back.
“Ava, wait,” he protested, his voice muffled by his hand.
“Let go of me!” I would rather take my chances with those things out there, then stay in this suffocating tent with him.
Grayson pulled me back again and this time moved onto his haunches, so his body blocked the way out.
“Fuck,” he cursed through his hand. The blood was trailing down his arm.
He used his other hand to pull his shirt off, over his head.
He pressed the shirt against his nose. “God, Ava!” he growled, tilting his head backwards.
“No one has ever made me bleed this fucking much and lived. It’s the fourth goddamn time! ”
“You deserved it every time,” I answered bitterly.
He looked down at me, studying me. “Yeah, maybe I did.” He smiled.
I looked away. He just had his hand around my throat, and now he was smiling at me again. Did he honestly expect me to smile back?
Grayson sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? Just… don’t talk about them.”
I eyed him. “Why? Did you suddenly develop a conscious?”
He dropped his head backwards again. It was more in defeat than trying to stop his nosebleed. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do that to them,” he murmured.
I gaped at him. “I don’t believe you.”
His face hardened. “Believe what you will.” He looked at the bunched-up shirt and tested to see if his nose was still bleeding. It had stopped.
“If it wasn’t you, then who did that? Hunter?” It couldn’t have been Gemma. “Who are they, Grayson? And why do you keep a photo of them? And that fucking bunny!”
He flinched when I mentioned the toy. “God, will you stop?” he yelled. He hurled the shirt away and sat back, raking both his hands through his hair, his head bowed between his knees. He looked so frayed, that I almost felt sorry for him.
But I was done with that. More than anything, it pissed me off that I had let such a bad person get so close to me.
I had let him in last night. In my desperation, I had made him a saviour.
I had allowed myself to feel something with him that wasn’t animosity.
Fuck! I’d let him hold me. Those hands, dipped in others’ blood…
Gods, please help me get away from this man! I don’t like how my mind’s been clouded. Help me keep sight of the darkness… the wrongness in him.
It was in my best interest not to push any more. And for what anyway? No amount of shade would make a psychopath stop his ways. I had already taken too many steps onto this rocky bridge. It could snap at any moment.
“Fine.” I climbed back into my sleeping bag and turned my back to him.
I laid there, unable to sleep, for hours.
I listened to his breathing and the noises that drifted through the cold night air.
My breath made puffs of clouds as I exhaled.
I was cold, but not as much as the previous night.
And not nearly enough to make me turn to him.
I didn’t know what to make of Grayson. And everything he said.
I didn’t trust any words that came out of his mouth.
He was a man after all. And I had already learned the consequences of trusting a man.
“The woman in the photo, she’s my mother, Dianna… and Abby, my little sister.” His voice was barely audible.
Did I hear correctly? I had thought he was asleep. I peered over my shoulder at him. He was lying on his back, wide awake, staring at the roof of the tent.
“Your mother?” I whispered. That wasn’t what he’d said, was it?
No answer. I didn’t think he was going to speak again, but then, “You want to know what happened to them?” He laughed coldly.
“Then buckle up, Princess,” he mocked hauntedly, settling an arm under his head.
“Just a normal fucking Tuesday.” He scoffed and shook his head bitterly.
“My mother had picked us up from school. I had nagged her all the way home to have pizza for dinner. She caved.” He smiled slightly at the memory.
I turned to face him, propping myself up on an elbow so I could see his face more clearly. It was darker inside the tent since the fire outside had died out to mere glowing embers.
His smile faded into an expression I could only describe as desolate.
He swallowed hard. “They were already in the house.” He was quiet for a while, struggling with the memory.
His eyes darted back and forth over the roof of the tent, seeing things that I couldn’t.
I had to stop myself from taking his hand. To comfort him.
“The two of them had tied me and my sister up. But not my mom.” He was still staring at the roof. “I told Abby to close her eyes, but I couldn’t.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Gods.
“I watched and listened how she wept and begged them to stop.” His voice broke.
The tears were hot on my cheeks. I didn’t think I could stomach anymore.
“When they were done acting out their sickest fantasies on my mother, they dragged Abby to her. And I could do nothing. They emptied the gun on her small body while holding my mom down. Laughing. Then they reloaded it and did the same to my mother.”
I reached for him.
“She was six,” he breathed. The pain in his voice tore me apart.
“How old were you?” I whispered.
He turned to look at me but didn’t see me. His eyes were clouded with memories. “Ten.”
Gods. He was too young to have been through something like that. “How did you get away?”
“I didn’t. They let me live so I could deliver a message to my father. My dad was a ruthless businessman, you see. And he had crossed the wrong man.”
His fingers trembled in mine.
“So, I sat there and watched over my mom and sister until he came home that night. No one had come to help. Our neighbours were too far away to have heard anything. Eventually my father walked in, untied me and told me to call the police. When the police pulled up, he shot himself. He couldn’t live without them.
” Grayson’s laugh was cold. “I don’t even blame him. ”
“Grayson…” He had lost his whole family in one day. I had no words to offer him. Words could never be enough to console that kind of hurt. So, I moved closer to him and placed my hand on his cold cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Grayson. I’m sorry you had to go through that, and I just made you relive those memories.” I was such an idiot. “I’m sorry for thinking you could do something like that.” One of my tears fell onto his cheek.
He reached up and gently brushed the tears from my eyes. “No, Princess. Don’t you for one second think I’m not capable of such things. I’m just as big a monster as those men. I’ve become the thing they fear,” he murmured, tucking my hair behind my ear.
Fuck! This man… What was I supposed to make of that? My heart bled for him. But he scared me. Because why didn’t it repulse me anymore? That he was this cold, heartless psycho?
I looked down into Grayson’s sombre eyes. He quickly schooled his features into place under my scrutiny, easily hiding that mountain of hurt behind a crooked smile.
I should hate him. Fear him.
Instead, I scooted closer and hugged him tightly to me. It was absurd, but he just had so much hurt, and my damned heart couldn’t take it. No one should hurt like this.