Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6)

by Allison White

  I feel as though I am drowning in that same puddle right now. Angry drivers honk as I swerve in and out of lanes, running lights, but I can barely hear them over the rattling of my unsettled heart. My mind does not consider another possible accident tonight—my own. Only Grey. Only the fate of him, my other half.

  I can’t stop imagining him in his overturned car, yearning for me. Face bloodied and throat stripped raw as he calls for me over and over again. I’m standing in the white dress I was wearing that night, my black pea coat hanging off my arms as I look on at the accident. The front of the car is completely smashed to smithereens. Glass pricks my foot as I take small steps toward him. I barely feel the pain, but he cries out like someone’s repeatedly jabbed a knife in his gut.

  “Liv, why aren’t you helping me? Are you gonna let me die too?” he croaks with tears streaming down his bloodied face.

  “Shit,” I curse as I almost run into the back of a small car. The driver gives me the finger. I can’t even react to her as I drive around her and stomp on the gas pedal. I hear it hit the floor, and the car hurtles forward. The car eats the last few miles with as much urgency as me.

  When I finally arrive at the hospital, I fling my car into the nearest parking spot. Questions I don’t want to think about fill my mind. Did someone hit him? Is he unconscious? Is he on a support vent? Is he yearning for me? Throwing a tantrum and calling for me?

  “Grey Wyler,” I say as I get to the receptionist desk. “What room is he in?”

  The nurse behind the desk looks up at me with a smile she’s probably practiced in case of any out-of-control relatives in the ER. “I’m sorry, are you a relative or—”

  “I’m his girlfriend. Now tell me what room he’s in.”

  She hesitates, then sighs and says, “Room 25.”

  I quickly thank her and glance at the painted numbers on the walls. Room twenty-five is on the left. I head for the hallway, trying not to pass out from the nerves.

  The smells of antibiotics and spent bedsheets and medicine attack my senses. I’m teleported back to That Night so many years ago. I’m standing in the middle of a hallway, confused and walking around looking for my parents. I’d just woken up, unaware of when I fell asleep. I thought I’d had a bad dream. Daddy had taken a different route home, and another car hit us pretty bad.

  Little did I know my parents were bawling their eyes out on hospital beds as a doctor announced the worst news of their lives. And little brother was lying on a cold metal bed in the morgue. Alone and pale as Casper, my favorite ghost. Now my brother was a ghost…

  “Miss? Are you a relative of Grey Wyler?” The voice pulls me from my thoughts, or rather a disturbing flashback.

  I look up into the warm blue eyes of a man wearing a lab coat, with graying brown hair. “Sorry, what were you saying?” I look around and look at the door to my left. Then at the number 571 above it. Grey’s room. How did I get here? I was so deep in thought…I guess my body just gravitated me here.

  “Grey Wyler…how do you know him?” he asks again, looking me up and down, wondering if I am a rogue psych patient.

  “He’s my boyfriend,” I tell him, and realization dawns on him.

  “Liv?” he inquires, twisting open the door and pushing it open.

  “Yes, how do you know?” I ask him. I don’t remember telling him my name. I gasp as we walk over to Grey. He’s asleep—at least I hope he is—in a hospital bed. The closer we get, the more I’m able to assess the damage. A bruised cheek, split lip, bandaged nose, and…

  “What happened to his arm?” I ask the doctor as I eye the cast on his arm.

  “Broken,” he explains. “He’ll be wearing it for a few weeks before it fully heals.”

  My heart breaks for my man. He looks ten years younger, softer, more vulnerable and…

  I look to the doctor with teary eyes, unable to hide the heartbreak in my voice. “What happened to him?”

  He glances at Grey, then back at me before relaying, “He crashed head-on into a tree.”

  “What?” I look at Grey, as if to say, “What did you do?” before muttering, “H-how?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know his intent…but a woman claims to have witnessed him speeding into the tree. He’s lucky to have survived a hard crash like that. Remarkable, really.”

  “Oh, Grey.” I rub his cast gently, feeling my heart crumble into ashes.

  I should have never let him leave. Not the last time I saw him, nor those other times. I should have forced him to talk to me. It never used to work in the past; he only pushed further. But it’s better than worrying if he tried to commit…I can’t even say it. I feel sick. Literally sick.

  I rush into the bathroom and release my stomach’s contents into the toilet.

  Doctor Kingsley, Grey’s doctor, gave me some ginger-ale. That was two hours ago. Now, I’m sitting beside Grey, lightly brushing his hair back.

  Damn you, boy.

  “Why can’t you just talk to me? Trust me? We have been through too much for you to close off on me now.” I tug at his hair even though he can’t feel it. Or maybe he can. I hope so, so he knows how pissed and upset and worried and terrified I am. Doctor Kingsley says it will take a while for Grey to wake up from his sedation. I plan on sitting here until he wakes. Of course. Even if he has gone off the rails and is being insufferable, I would never leave my stubborn little bastard. He’s mine to worry about.

  “I think there’s an alien baby in me,” I sing-song. I crack a smile. “Not an actual baby, of course. Been taking my pills appropriately. We’re good in that department. But aliens on the other hand…well, they’re ruthless. Of course they’d implant a bastard child of theirs that makes me so horribly sick. Think we should sue? I think we’d win the case.”

  Nothing but his heart monitor.

  Boom-boom…boom-boom…boom-boom.

  I sigh and lean toward his ear. “I miss you.” I kiss his temple, where a scar is carved in his perfectly golden skin. “Wake up, you idiot.” Another kiss to his puffy cheek, light-as-a-feather. “I want to see your eyes. Let me see those suckers…please.” My voice cracks before I can help it.

  The memory of his lips on mine before he went through those elevator doors play through my mind. How he reeked of cigarettes, more than usual. How his lips were hard but gentle against mine. How he kissed me with a slow-burning passion, like he’d never see me again…

  “Jesus, please don’t take him. Not—not him. No one else of mine. I already lost…” I break into tears and weave my shaky fingertips through my hair, covering my hair over my face like a curtain of emotion. “I cannot lose this man. If I do…I won’t—I won’t know what to do. Please. Please. Pleas—”

  His monitor beeps livelier, like he’s awake…

  “Grey!” I squeak excitedly. I quickly push my hair back and sit closer to him, brushing my thumb against his bandaged forehead. Brush. Brush. Brush. With each stroke of my thumb, he crawls out of slumber. Like I am his guiding light.

  “Liv.” He coughs.

  “I’m here. I’m right here,” I assure him frantically, glancing at his heart monitor. Thankfully, it looks normal.

  “Look at me,” he requests, his voice croaky, like a frog is lodged in his throat.

  I shift my attention to him and lean over the small bar between us. He cups my hand with his uninjured hand. His eyes pulls me in as usual, like a black star seeking company after being alone for centuries. Black meets blue, and I feel my heart begin to rebuild itself.

  “What happened?” My voice wavers, and tears drip onto my arm as I cup his neck.

  He avoids my eyes. “I wasn’t paying attention. I hit a—a tree.”

  “I know, Doctor Kingsley told me.” His brows shoot up in confusion. “Your doctor.”

  “Yeah, yeah…I haven’t been thinking straight since the accident.”

  And then the anger hits.

  “You freaking scared me, Grey.”

  “I know.”

  “You
know I lost someone important to me in a car accident.”

  “I know, Liv.” He doesn’t sound frustrated like he normally would sound right about now. Just disappointed in himself. I let up and let him breathe. I don’t want to make him feel bad for something that could have easily been an accident.

  “Just tell me one thing,” I request.

  His eyes lift from the sheet he’d been staring at and looks at me hesitantly. “What?”

  “Was it really an…accident?”

  His brows clip together, and he pauses. “No…I mean, yes. I mean.” He pinches his nose and shakes his head slightly. “I wasn’t drunk or high or anything, but I was on my way home. I didn’t even know what I did before I got in the car. For hours, I was just—all of it was blank. The accident was the same way. One second I was driving, and the next I’m being wheeled into an ambulance.”

  “You’re not leaving my sight the second we get home,” I tell him, and he laughs. “I’m serious.”

  “I know. I know.” He pats my cheek.

  I close my eyes, savoring his large hand cupping my skin. Heat and memories of us happy and at the stream before everything, before this, fill me, and I shed a tear.

  “Hey, don’t cry.” He slowly lifts his finger and wipes the tear away.

  “I’m not,” I lie pathetically.

  “Sure.” He tugs at my lip with a lazy, medicated smile.

  “Are you in pain? Do you need some more medicine?” I look for the remote to call for a nurse.

  “Nah, I’m good. Can you pass me my jacket, though? I need to call David. They must have called him since he was my secondary emergency contact.”

  “Of course.” I walk over to his leather jacket hung up on the wooden chair. I dig into the pocket for his phone when my fingers brush against a paper. Raising a brow, I pull it out. It’s a small fraction of an envelope. Hele—it says before the rest is cut off. I pull out another paper and find some small words on it.

  It’s Helen’s letter to Grey. He tore it up…

  “Before I age to one hundred, please,” Grey whines behind me.

  I quickly push the papers back in the pocket and fish out his phone. “Sorry. Here you go.” I walk over to him with a smile.

  ***

  A few hours later, Grey’s discharged, and we’re home. He’s in the bedroom while I make myself some lavender tea for my upset stomach. I sniffle away, cursing Mother Nature because I forgot to get a flu shot.

  “Liv, come on,” Grey whines impatiently.

  “I’m coming,” I call back.

  Staring at the object in my hand, I pick up my tea and walk into the bedroom.

  “Dear Grey, my sweet, sweet boy—” I begin reading the letter as I enter the bedroom.

  “How did you put that back together?” Grey stops me.

  “I was lonely for a decade. I had plenty of time to master the art of puzzling,” I reply.

  He looks at the paper in my hands and gulps. “I don’t want to read it.”

  “You aren’t.” I walk over to my side of the bed, set my tea down, and face him. “I’m reading it to you.”

  His lips tremble, and he shakes his head. Vulnerable, soft, hurt. “I don’t—don’t…”

  “She doesn’t blame you for anything,” I reassure him, rubbing his shoulder. He just looks at me and nods slowly, and I know he wanted to read the letter despite the tough front he put up. He just didn’t want to be alone when he learned of its contents. But he should know that I’ll always be there with him. Especially if he really needs me by his side.

  He nods once and leans against the headboard. I splay the sheet over us and tangle our legs together, my head resting on his chest. His hand rubs my lower back, and I look up at him for the say-so.

  “Go on,” he says with a sigh.

  I kiss him just under his chin and whisper, “Dear Grey, my sweet, sweet boy…the first thing you should know, it is not your fault. None of it…”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Can he still get it up?” Lily crudely asks a week later, in my office. Her deep blue eyes sparkle as she smirks at me, lollipop in hand. Did she really just ask me that?

  I gape at her, lost for words. “He—stop being disgusting. He was in a car accident, not a…penis accident,” I hiss in a low voice, looking around even though we’re in my office.

  She bursts into lively laughter. “What the hell do you have to do to get in a penis accident? Fuck someone too hard? Actually, I heard this one story where a guy had his head stuck up his wife’s vagina…” She scratches her chin. “Though that was his head. So that was more like a head accident than a penis one. Can you get your penis stuck in a vagina?”

  “It’s so nice having you back.” I laugh.

  She winks. “Nice to be back.” After her ex, Jack, was arrested for child and spousal abuse, she came right back to work. She’s still living with Matthew even though her place is free of the six-foot rodent. According to her, living with him isn’t that bad. “His place is really…sparkly,” she told me, referring to his dazzling clean white floors and spotless furniture. He lives in a condo about thirty minutes away from me.

  “I should be home,” I murmur, clutching the framed picture of Grey and me. We look so happy here…I sometimes wish we could live inside of this picture. Just us on the beach being silly, without any obstacles or troubles at all.

  “Why didn’t you stay with him longer?” she asks, her voice softening.

  I shrug and rub my tense neck. “He wanted me out of the house.”

  She chuckles. “Why?”

  “He says he’s a grown man and that he can take care of himself.”

  “But you want to baby him?” she inquires.

  “Wrap him in a blanket and lock him away from the world…yeah.” I plop my head on the desk.

  “A guy like Grey, I’m not surprised he isn’t slowing down.”

  “But he was in a freaking car accident.” Thinking about it makes my blood run cold, and I rub my aching eyes. She gently touches my wrist. Before she can say anything, the door bursts open. Matthew stumbles in, ready to say something as well, but his words stop short when he sees Lily perched on my desk. They stare at each other. Hmmm…

  I clear my throat. “Matthew, what’s up?”

  “Huh?” he huffs, then looks over at me. I raise a questioning brow, and he blushes and shakes his head. “Sorry, I…I can come back later, if you want.” He begins to walk out, but I stand up.

  “No, I can go for some coffee. The one down the street sells pastries as well, right?” I turn to Lily after he nods yes. She’s still looking at Matthew, and I bite back my knowing smile. “Wanna come with?”

  She whips her head to look at me, dark red hair bouncing in her high ponytail. “Oh, no thank you. I got a bunch of things I have to catch up on work-wise. But I’ll see you guys around.” She leaves, and Matthew stares after her.

  I walk over to him and pinch his arm. “Did something happen between you two?” I ask him in a hiss. But I’m not mad. I’d actually be very happy if something did go down between them. Matthew is the sweetest person I’ve ever known, really geeky, but sweet nonetheless. And Lily, she needs someone like him. Kind and would never lay a hand on her or her child.

  He gasps and looks at me with blushed red cheeks. “What? Of course not!”

  “Then why are you blushing like crazy?” I tease him, pinching his cute pinkish cheeks. He smacks my hand away and pushes at me. I stumble and bump right back into him. I burst out laughing, and he smiles, trying not to laugh too. “You like her.”

  “No, I do not. I’m seeing Delilah.”

  “Are you?”

  He nods, but the faraway look on his face says otherwise.

  “I thought the last date you guys were on was last week?” I inquire nosily.

  “Yeah…but we’re just trying to decide on where our next date should be.” He coughs and fidgets with his glasses…a tell-tale sign he’s lying. My smile fades away, and I wrap an arm ar
ound him. It sounds like she’s blowing him off, and I hate that. He’s too nice of a person to be blown off like he’s nothing. Or maybe she’s just really busy…? Or there’s no spark?

  “I’m sure you guys will figure it out,” I assure him and kiss his hot cheek.

  “Know what? We’re gonna figure it out right now. I’ll get her a cookie, some coffee, and we’ll talk about another date.” He pushes his chest up, and I raise an amused brow at his act of bravado. It’s like watching a tiny squirrel wearing cute glasses and a green bowtie trying to act like a big tough wrestler. Adorable.

  We find her exiting Garrett’s office…fixing her fitted red dress. Matthew freezes beside me, eyes wide as she looks in the glass mirror to swipe under her eyes. Hmm…I remember doing the same thing that one time when Grey and I fooled around in my office…oh, crap.

  “I think we should go…” I whisper, tugging on Matthew’s arm.

  “Delilah…?” Matthew persists.

  She whips around, cheeks flushed and her normally tamed platinum blonde hair slightly frizzy. “Oh…hey guys. How are you doing?” she asks.

  “Very well,” I reply, tugging on his hand. “We should go,” I whisper to him.

  “Delilah,” he repeats. He sounds and looks like he’s in shock. Like he can’t believe his blue eyes.

  “Matthew,” I whisper harshly, tug harder, and he stumbles into me.

  It grows silent as we all look at each other, as realization of what went on behind those closed doors settles. The air grows stale, and I find it hard to breathe. Finally, his body loosens, and I drag him to the elevator. I punch the button for the ground floor. Delilah’s pale face is the last thing we see before the elevator doors close.