Chapter 13
I had no memory of falling asleep, but I slept through the whole afternoon and night.
The sunbeams shining through the window onto my face, woke me the next morning.
I was still in a sleep haze when the smell of eggs and bacon pulled me out of bed.
I was ravenous. Getting dressed took longer than usual with my still stiff body.
I brushed through my hair and put on some mascara that I now possessed thanks to Gemma.
I trotted awkwardly down the stairs with a plan—to get Grayson to back off. I would set boundaries, and hopefully he would oblige.
Walking into the kitchen, my heart stopped as Grayson turned from the stove.
He had no business looking that good in grey sweatpants.
The white t-shirt he had on was worn and sheer with age and had a hole in both the front and backside.
The contours of his astonishing body was visible underneath the material.
“You’re staring, Princess.” He was walking towards the dining table to set down some plates.
I swallowed hard and tried to find someplace else to look. “I was just wondering why a billionaire couldn’t afford to buy a new t-shirt. At the very least you could just steal one.”
He frowned down at his shirt. “What’s wrong with it? It’s my favourite.” He went back to the stove to check on the bacon sizzling in the frying pan.
“Don’t get too close. The heat might disintegrate it,” I joked, leaning with my hip against the kitchen island to take some weight off my sore foot.
Grayson turned with a glare and walked towards me. I let go of my breath as he passed me to the fridge.
Good. The strange, heavy tension that was between us yesterday was replaced with a lightness, a familiarity. Like the vibe I got from the tree in my backyard—a sort of acceptance of our co-existence.
I could deal with that.
Grayson took a carton of orange juice out and placed it on the dining table. He pointed to a cabinet behind me. “Would you grab a few glasses?”
“Yes, of course.” I shook myself out of the haze and placed four glasses around the table.
I also laid some forks and knives out. There was not much else I could do so I went back to leaning against the island, content to watch Grayson finish with breakfast. He was whistling softly, an unfamiliar tune.
In between flipping the bacon, he was writing in a book.
I took a closer look when curiosity got the better of me.
It was a book with crossword puzzles. The one he was busy with was almost done.
My feet carried me forward. “You had this the whole time? You couldn’t have given it to me all those times I was bored out of my mind?” I said as I picked it up. I hadn’t really been bored, but still. It would have helped to stave off the constant thoughts of my impending death.
He gave me a sly, crooked grin. “Then I would have been bored.”
I snatched the pen he had tucked behind his ear, placing the book back down and wrote an answer in the one he was currently busy with.
I gave him a sarcastic smile. I hated it when someone wrote in my crossword while I was still busy with it, or when someone stood over my shoulder and blurted an answer—like my mother loved to do. I hoped it irked him just as much.
“Well, if you’re going to appropriate my puzzle book, at least fill in number five, down, of the previous puzzle,” he said in a flat tone.
There was only one word that was incomplete, missing a few letters that wasn’t made up by the other words. It was the scientific name of a popular flower. I wrote it in. Easy.
Grayson was leaning closer trying to read over my shoulder, so I shifted for him to get a better view. He responded with a dazzling smile taking my breath away. Gods, he was handsome. “Clever girl,” he praised.
I blushed just as hard as the first time he called me clever.
He surprised me by taking a step closer to me, his eyes trained to my glowing cheeks.
I instinctively turned to him, like a soldier, ready for its opponent.
Grayson gently grabbed a handful of my copper hair.
He glided his hand down the length of it, his knuckles brushing my rib cage as he gently tugged on the ends.
He pushed my hair back over my shoulder, exposing my neck.
Fuck, what was happening? Just a few seconds ago, he didn’t seem particularly interested in even looking at me. Now… I was frozen in place, my head roaring.
Grayson’s eyes roamed gingerly over my face. He rubbed a thumb over the freckles on my nose and smiled. He followed the freckles down to my overly pink cheeks. His thumb moved to my mouth and lightly hooked on my lower lip, parting them slightly. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
I never once breathed while he was exploring me. My heart thundered in my throat. I knew I was supposed to stay away from him, put down boundaries. But when he looked at me like this, touched me like this, I had no will.
Grayson was like a blackhole. The gravity of him was sucking me in, and I was helpless to it.
What happened to the stars that reached the centre of such a blackhole?
When they came face to face with that relentless darkness?
What would happen to me? Would a whole new world wait for me on the other side? Or would I be violently ripped apart?
Grayson was still studying my face like I was a beautiful, fascinating flower and I caught myself leaning into it. Into him. The footsteps on the stairs made me take two steps back, pulling me back to reality. Gemma, thank the gods, made her way to the kitchen.
“Good morning,” came her singsong greeting, breaking through the haze of my mind.
She sat down at the table, and I quickly claimed a seat next to her, to which I could practically feel her excitement about.
She didn’t seem to pick up on the heavy atmosphere between me and Grayson, and that I was effectively using her as an escape from it.
I did my best to not look his way again.
This interaction only proved to me that I couldn’t trust myself near him.
The only way I would be able to set boundaries and keep to it, was to avoid him entirely.
But I knew that would be difficult given my situation.
Gemma, I quickly found out, was the best way of hiding from Grayson. I followed her around like a puppy. By the end of the second day, she eyed me worriedly as we sat in her room.
“Can I ask you something?” she questioned tentatively.
We were busy filling wooden bird nests with stuffing from a pillow.
It was for an endangered species of bird of whose name I had already forgotten.
Gemma, it seemed, absolutely loved animals.
All types of critters, really, no matter how many feet they had.
I spent the previous day with her in the forest, watching her swoon over every creature we came across.
She had an uncanny ability to spot them and seemed to have endless amounts of information on them.
We found a great interloop between our respected knowledgebases—I would explain the properties of some plant and we would ponder on why an animal would need it in their diet. It was fascinating and great fun.
“Yes?” I finally answered.
She chewed on her lip. “What happened between you and Grayson in the forest? You were scared shitless of him, but when you two came back, you weren’t anymore?
” She phrased it as a question. “And he can’t keep his eyes off you, but you’re using me to keep away from him, which I don’t mind at all.
Happy to help, but I don’t know what to do!
Should I kick his ass or…?” She waited on my reply with wide eyes.
“Didn’t Grayson tell you?” I was sure he would. It didn’t seem like they kept things from one another.
“No, he only told us that it wasn’t his story to tell, which really pissed Hunter off.
But you were pretty banged up when you got here, and his knuckles were…
well, it was obvious he had hit something or someone very hard, but it wasn’t you, right?
You would have looked way worse, and you’re not scared of him anymore and he’s not really the type to hit women like that… God, I’m so confused!”
I smiled at her distressed rambling. There was no reason not to tell her, although it wasn’t something I liked to be reminded of.
I swallowed hard. “I found a man in the forest. I thought he was going to help me, but he had… other ideas. Grayson found us just in time.” I watched my hands. I couldn’t look at Gemma.
“Oh, my God,” Gemma whispered and took my hands. She squeezed them tightly.
“He saved me and then took care of me.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears.
Gemma nodded absentmindedly. “Did he kill him?” she half whispered. “Grayson wouldn’t have let him live,” she answered herself.
I shook my head. “No, I stopped him. But the guy was unconscious when we left, so I’m not sure what happened to him.”
Gemma hugged me tight. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Ava. And I’m glad Grayson was there."
“Me too.” I smiled at her. But something about her words didn’t sit right with me. “So, Grayson’s killed someone before?” The way she was so sure that Grayson had killed Digger.
She eyed me hesitantly. “I’m not sure I should answer that.”
I looked away. “You just did.” Gods, he was a killer.
I was so relieved that it wasn’t him who had killed the woman and child…
Dianna and Abby, I had forgotten how he had told me himself that he was a monster.
How he had beaten Digger to within an inch of his life and still wanted to do worse. Not that Digger didn’t deserve it.
“It’s not like that, Ava. He…” she sighed. “He’s complicated.”
I scoffed. “You can say that again.”
She chuckled softly. “I bet you feel really confused about him. I did too when I first met him. Well, not like you, but you know what I mean.” She waved her hand dismissively.