Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Grayson
The world came back in pieces.
First, the weight in my chest, like a slab of stone pressing me down. Every breath dragged slowly and jagged, catching on the ache in my ribs. Then the sounds: muffled, indistinct. Voices, maybe. Or just the low hum of machines, rolling in and out like echoes underwater.
My eyelids twitched open. Light pierced through, too sharp, splitting straight into my skull. I shut them again, swallowing against the dryness clawing at my throat. My body throbbed everywhere, heavy and unresponsive, like I was a stranger inside my own skin.
I stayed still, caught between sleep and waking, letting awareness drip back one slow drop at a time. My tongue was lead, my lips cracked, but I forced them apart.
“Ari…” I whispered.
Or I thought I did. My lips moved, throat straining, but no sound followed.
And then I heard her. Ariana. Close, but muffled, like her voice was coming through glass. She was talking to someone, words fractured, slipping apart before I could catch them.
I tried again, fighting past the dryness. My chest burned with the effort, but still nothing—just the scrape of air tearing at my throat.
Her voice sharpened, clearer now, threading through the haze.
“…It’s all because of your help getting me connected with Sandra.”
And then quiet.
“…the deal with her is still on.”
Deal? The thought staggered through my fogged mind, clumsy and jagged.
She paused, then, softer, “It’s in the contract. I have to meet her requirements, or she’ll take everything from me.”
I forced my eyes open, every movement a battle. My voice tore out, rough and broken, but it carried.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
The effort tore at me, sparking sharp pain through my chest. Dizziness swelled, threatening to pull me under again.
“Grayson?” Her voice cut through, sharp with alarm. A chair scraped, footsteps closing in fast. “Hey, don’t—don’t try to talk. You’re not ready yet.”
A cool hand gently pressed against my uninjured arm, steadying me. “You’re safe. I’m right here. You don’t have to say anything.”
I wanted to ask her again, to make her explain. My lips parted, but nothing came. My body was betraying me with silence.
“Shh…” she whispered. “Just close your eyes again and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her words settled over me, and I wanted to fight it—to hold on—but my body had already given up. Each breath burned. Each blink dragged lower, heavier, until I couldn’t pull them back up.
One thought lingered as the dark closed in: Ari’s here. She’s safe.
And then the quiet pulled me under.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” I asked Ariana, shifting uneasily on her living room couch as the cushions sank under my weight.
After I was discharged from the hospital, Mickey and Ariana had both asked where I wanted to go.
I didn’t have an answer ready. Finally, I admitted the truth—I was supposed to be moving into a new apartment, but I hadn’t gotten that far.
All my things were still crammed into my office at Belrose, where I’d been living these past weeks.
That admission stopped her cold. The realization that I’d been living out of my office, sleeping there, working there, existing there, hit her hard. I saw it in her eyes, the flicker of shock before she masked it.
When she finally asked why, I couldn’t bring myself to sugarcoat it. I told her the truth—that I had left Lila’s house for good and that I’d been searching for a place within my budget. I finally found one just a few days ago, but I hadn’t moved in yet.
And so here I was, sitting in Ariana’s living room, half grateful, half ashamed, wondering if I’d just made myself her burden.
She sat beside me, the sadness in her eyes lingering since the moment I first opened them in the hospital.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “This is the least I can do for you.”
My body still felt heavy, every movement stiff and careful, the bruises and bandages a constant reminder that I wasn’t fully myself yet. Even sitting upright left me tired.
“Thank you,” I breathed, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable, though it wasn’t easy.
“Do you want something to eat?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Just some water, thank you.”
She went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle, twisting the cap open before handing it to me. I took it and drank deeply, the thirst never seeming to leave.
“Are you alright?” she asked again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
I gave a short chuckle, then winced as pain shot through my ribs. “I’m fine.” I met her eyes. “You don’t have to worry so much.”
“Then tell me what happened, Gray. Why won’t you?”
I let out a slow breath and tried to ease back against the cushions. “I went to Helser, and then this happened,” I said simply, the same way I had before. It didn’t matter anymore. Helser had agreed that after this, he’d let it go. He wouldn’t bother Ariana again.
“Grayson,” she tried again, but I cut her off.
“It’s over now, Ari. That’s all that matters.” I reached for her with my good hand and gave hers a gentle squeeze. “You’re safe.”
“But you’re hurt, Gray,”
“I am. A little, yeah.”
She drew in a soft gasp. “This isn’t little, Gray.” Her gaze traced over my battered face, and I could only imagine how terrible I looked to her right now.
“Let it go, Ari. Please.” My voice carried more fear than I meant to show, because I knew how fearless she could be. She could not get involved with someone like Helser. She had to leave it alone. “If you really want to do something for me, as you said, then just let it go.”
She looked as though she wanted to argue, but stayed silent, her eyes fixed on me with sadness and remorse that melted me.
I let out a short chuckle, which quickly turned into a wince as the pain flared again.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I muttered with a sigh, trying to manage it.
“It’ll be better if we talk about something else. ”
“Like what?” she asked softly.
I drew in a slow breath and steered toward the other question that had been gnawing at me. “Tell me about your deal with Sandra Hale,” I said quietly. My eyes stayed on hers, steady, refusing to let her slip away from this. “Tell me everything.”
She shook her head. “It’s just a business deal.”
“What kind of deal?” I pressed.
She hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, then closing again. “Please, Ari,” I urged quietly. “Tell me.”
Ariana looked torn, weighing whether to tell me. For a long moment, I thought she wouldn’t. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, “Sandra invested in me, and I have to return it within a year.”
My brows knit together. One year to return an investment was an impossible gamble. “How much are we talking about?”
She shook her head, her tone clipped. “It’s a business deal, Grayson. Nothing more. Like any other deal.”
Either she didn’t trust me enough yet, or it was bad enough that she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. Maybe both.
“Trust me, Ari. I just want to help.”
“I know you do,” she said quietly, lowering her gaze. “But this isn’t about trust, Gray. It’s my responsibility, not yours. I can handle it.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she was quicker.
“Don’t overthink it.” Her smile was faint, almost forced, and beneath it I saw how much this weighed on her. “I’ll manage.”
My thoughts raced through every possibility, but I knew her well enough to understand she wouldn’t be forced to tell me. A flicker of disappointment hit me, yet I held back, not now, not when she clearly wasn’t ready. Pressing her would only push her further away.
Still, I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t let this go. One way or another, I had to find out.
“Okay, let’s talk about you and me instead,” I said softly, my eyes tracing her beautiful face.
Her brows raised. “What about us?”
“About how I never stopped loving you,” I said with a grin. “And how you’re still in love with me too.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she seemed at a loss for words.
“About us being together again,” I said, holding her hand tightly, feeling the warmth of her skin through mine. “And about you forgiving me and giving me another chance.”
“Grayson—”
“And about me asking you to take me back—even though all I have to offer is myself. My heart. My soul. My body. And a promise that I will rise again. That one day, you’ll be proud to call me yours.”
She let out a long sigh.
“I will never hurt you again. That is my promise.” I held her gaze, willing her to believe it.
“Protecting you, loving you, earning back your trust—that is my vow. What I feel for you, Ari, isn’t something that bends or breaks or fades with time.
It is permanent. It is forever. I tried to bury it once, and even then, it refused to die. ”
Our eyes locked, and I watched a storm move across her face—conflict, doubt, longing, and something softer underneath it all that she was trying hard to keep hidden.
I knew every flicker of it. I had never forgotten her, not even the smallest things.
The way her brow furrowed when she was torn.
The way her lips pressed together when she had something to say but couldn’t bring herself to say it.
The way her eyes always betrayed her, no matter how still she kept the rest of her.
I had memorized her once. And even after everything, she was still written into me, etched somewhere too deep to reach, too permanent to fade.
“I know I don’t look my best right now with all these cuts and bruises,” I said with a teasing grin. “But give me a little time to heal, and you’ll remember I’m actually a handsome guy.”
A soft chuckle slipped from her, and her gaze warmed as she studied me.
“I think I should remind you how much you’ve always loved my gray eyes,” I said, my grin lingering. “You once told me they were the most beautiful you’d ever seen.”
She laughed again, shaking her head.
“Maybe until I’m back in shape, we should frame a picture of me so you don’t forget how hot I am.”
She fell silent, yet her eyes spoke a thousand unspoken words. My chest swelled, so full it felt like my heart might break free, desperate to find its place in hers.
“I love you,” I murmured. A catch in my voice said more than my words. “Be mine again, Ari.”
Still, she said nothing. The silence stretched between us, thick and charged.
But then, without warning, she leaned forward and kissed me. My eyes slammed shut, every nerve in my body alight.
It was soft and brief, but it carried a heat that made me clench against it, my breath catching as if my body didn’t know what to do with the feeling.
When she pulled back, my eyes flew open. I wasn’t ready for her to let go.
“More,” I whispered.
She shook her head slowly. “You’ve got cuts on your lips.”
“I don’t fucking care,” I growled, the need in me burning hotter. “Kiss me again.”
A teasing smile curved her lips, and she leaned in once more. The kiss was just as short, but it made me ache for more.
“More,” I murmured, my fingers tightening around hers.
“Gray…” she sighed, her voice soft.
“I need more,” I demanded, tugging her hand and drawing her closer until there was no space left between us.
Her mouth found mine. It started soft, almost testing—then deepened, and whatever careful distance I had been holding collapsed all at once. The last thread of my control snapped. A low growl rumbled in my chest as my good hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, pulling her in.
I was past gentle. This was need—raw and absolute, and three years overdue.
The gash on my lip burned like hell, but it only made the rest of me flare hotter.
The taste of her hit me like a shot of adrenaline, and a groan tore out of me before I could stop it, pain and pleasure tangled together, impossible to separate.
My ribs screamed. I didn’t care. Nothing else existed but her.
And then she drew back. A low, animalistic growl tore from me, instinctive, protesting the space she left.
“We’re not stopping, Ari,” I grunted, every word rough with need. “Kiss me again.”
She grinned, wide and breathtaking, and then said something that made my pulse spike.
“No.” She shook her head, still smiling. “Because I’m going to help you shower.”