Grey: Everlasting (Spectrum Series Book 6)

by Allison White

  God.

  Fuck.

  But I am better now. I love Liv, and I know it isn’t a trick or a prank. She truly loves me with every square inch of her heart that’s way too big for her small body. And I love her, definitely more. More than infinity. This world doesn’t even have a strong enough unit to measure how much I fucking love this girl. She is too good for me. It’s a known fact. But I can’t stop myself from holding onto her, can’t stop loving her with everything I have.

  I can be the bad guy Hades as long as I have my sweet, sweet girl by my side.

  Screw Zeus, he has his billion kids. Why does he want her back? Why can’t I have my Liv?

  She is the one good thing I have ever had.

  And I will not fucking lose her.

  You’ll have to pry her out of my fucking cold, dead hands.

  “Epiphany moment?” David mumbles, pulling me from my thoughts. His face is understanding, his gaze not making fun of me. I must have smacked the table or something, because the entire diner is staring at me.

  Epiphany moment. My disorder. I have a lot of epiphanies, and to celebrate coming to a conclusion despite my frazzled mind, I tap something or shout in excitement. I’m not special or anything, so don’t even start that. It’s just living with a fucked-up mind that harbors bitchy voices that’s unable to keep up with the normal world is hard. Very tiring. So I can’t help it when I succeed in making a normal thought that I am happy with.

  I nod my head and stare at my plate of burger and fries. I haven’t touched it. Which isn’t surprising. I’ve been suffering the shit end of the stick with my disorder for the past couple of days. It started the night Liv walked away from me, left me in the dark and cold after I’d done so much for her. I punched a tree and fractured the same fucking hand I broke in the accident. See? I keep doing dumb shit. All surrounding her. But I’d jump off a fucking never-ending cliff for her.

  “Want me to drive you home?” he asks.

  Again, I nod. I would drive, but I normally can’t when my mind is fucking with me like this. It distorts my vision and makes me see shit. The last time I drove during a shitstorm like this, I imagined the road as a video game and got into an accident. I hit a tree.

  The drive home is spent with me going over the things I’d say and do for Liv. I’d start with the obvious: I fucking love you and I’m sorry for being a douchebag. I’d explain how Lorenzo really is a family friend. How he taught me how to shoot a gun…okay, maybe not that. Um, how he came to see a few fights when I was just punching fuckers for the fun of it in the basements of abandoned buildings.

  Then I’d follow that up with: I promise to never hurt you. It is never my intention. I just keep fucking up. And then, finally, I will hold her hands, let that clear my head like normal, and shove Milo in her face.

  I’d read on the internet that one of the best ways to apologize to a girl was to get her a puppy. Chicks dig baby dogs for some reason. The other great ways were sex and chocolate and cheesy shit you’d find last minute in a gas station for Valentine’s Day.

  But Liv isn’t like that. She doesn’t care about things; she cares more about words. Heartfelt words. Not shit you pull from your ass on the drop of a hat. I have to think it over and be truly sincere. Otherwise she’ll tell me to fuck off and try again. Taking her cute self away from me, her comforting hands with her.

  “I have some things to take care of, but I’ll swing by later,” David says as he pulls in front of the apartment building.

  I stare up at the tall building, feeling my pulse quicken. What if she declines my apology? What if she doesn’t believe me and leaves me? I don’t want this to be the reason she walks away from me. I need her. I love her. I fucking need her.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck—

  David snaps his fingers in my face. “Go up and get your girl,” he instructs.

  I nod and get out. He’s always great at pulling me back into reality. He was always my anchor, keeping me grounded and yanking on my chains to get me back to the real world. And when he left…fuck. I thought I would lose myself, my mind, completely.

  But then Liv showed me that I didn’t need a physical person to keep me grounded, sane. All I really ever need is the thought of her love for me. And I zen out into the most fucking calm person this world has ever seen. She is my clarity, my fucking remedy. My drug. I’d overdose on her if I could.

  I take off my boots and jacket, placing them where she likes. It’d really ruin my plans if she came into the house and was pissed at me for my mess. I wouldn’t be a mess today. Wouldn’t let her anger toward me grow even more than it already has. Today, I would be clean and sincere, and all the shit Liv loves and appreciates. I would be the man she is supposed to be with. The man I am not.

  As I walk into the hallway, I notice something to my left. I backtrack and spot Milo’s cage empty. What the fuck? I thought I had that little fucker in the cage before I left. Did Liv take him out? Is she still here? I thought she would have gone to one of her friends’ houses to complain about me. Contemplate breaking up with my sorry ass.

  “Liv, are you here?” I call out, but all I get is remote silence in return. I walk into our bedroom, looking for her and the little fucker. I swear if he’s chewing on my shoes, I will kill him. I look in the closet, but nothing. I check David’s room, nothing. I’m about to look in the living room and kitchen when I notice the bathroom door is cracked open.

  “Liv, you in here?”

  Nothing.

  Slowly, I push the door open. The first thing I notice is the little bitch named Milo chewing shit on the ground. The trashcan is laying on the ground, spilling out garbage. His little nose digs through it, and there’s piss and shit on the floor.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I shout, and he barks at me. “Oh, shut up. I should have picked your brother.” I pick him up and walk out of the bathroom. I put him in his cage, make sure to lock it, and go back to the bathroom. I lock the door and close my eyes, leaning against it. Fuck. I should have known something like this would happen. He was a little fucker from the moment I saw him. But he was the cutest one out of the little mutts, and I thought Liv would like him.

  “Regretting you every second that passes!” I scream at him through the wooden door.

  He barks back, as if telling me the same thing.

  Rolling my eyes, I turn around. I look at the mess he’s made and groan.

  Don’t be a little bitch, Grey. Just clean this shit up and don’t make Liv any madder than she already is.

  With a burning hatred for that dog, I slap on gloves and clean up his shit and piss. A few minutes I spray some chemical lemon-scented thing on the floor and wipe until my wrists physically pain me. After throwing that shit out, I come back in the bathroom, ready to pick up the trash.

  I scoop a majority into the trashcan but freeze when I see a white stick peeking through. Why would she throw away our thermometer? Sighing, I pick it out of the trash, ready to throw it in the can with the other piles of junk, when I notice the weird, long white tip of it. I flip it around and feel my heart leap out of my fucking chest as I read the writing on it.

  Pregnant. The two-lines symbol.

  Not pregnant. The one-line symbol.

  And on the little screen is…

  “Two fucking lines,” I mutter. My brain slows, and I stop breathing for a second. Liv is pregnant. “Fuck!” I drop the test into the can and push myself back to the door. I hit my head and the handle. I cry out in pain and quickly scramble out of the bathroom. I close it behind me, hands shaking on the handle.

  Liv is pregnant. Pregnant!

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I curse as I pace the width of the hallway. My thoughts run wild.

  What the fuck am I going to do with a kid? I don’t want one. Never ever. I know I told her we’d think about it down the line, but not this now.

  Two lines.

  Liv is pregnant.

  “Fuck!” Liv is going to fucking kill me!


  I drop into a ball on the bed and close my eyes, rocking back and forth. Think, think, think. What can we do? Options, fucking options. Think straight, Grey!

  Okay. There’re three options: kill the fucker, give the fucker up, keep the fucker. I thought I killed my child the first time, turns out I didn’t, but that didn’t stop the guilt from haunting me for years. Okay. Then it’s obvious what we have to do. Give the fucker up. We’ll put an ad in the paper: baby for sale. Not even sale. That’s what the black market’s for; we’re talking the paper. Where more people are likely to see it and not use the baby for a sick ritual or some shit.

  Baby.

  Fuck!

  Why were we not more careful? She’s on the pill; I know that for a fact. I make sure she takes her pill every single day. I sneak into the bathroom and make sure that fucking pill for the day is gone. Check for her the usual symptoms she experiences throughout the day. Light headache, weight gain, slight mood changes. All fucking normal for her. I thought we were safe enough with them. But apparently not safe enough.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, dropping my head and gripping the test. I want to break it, snap it in half, and throw it out. Throw out the pregnancy. Wipe her belly clean. She cannot be fucking pregnant. I’m not ready for a child. Never have been, never will be. I’ll be a shit father and an even shittier person for passing down my fucked-up mind disease to a child. To another human fucking being.

  I wish I were the last person in the world to have this disorder, so no one else has to deal with it.

  But millions do.

  And a little baby will too.

  “Fuck!” I scream, clutching my face with one hand, holding the test with another.

  Calm down, calm down, calm down…

  Soft, small footsteps. They’re coming my way.

  Liv.

  “Hey, Grey, can we talk?” she asks in her sweet voice as she pushes the door open.

  I don’t respond. Trying my best to keep my cool, talk rationally.

  She’s fucking pregnant with your baby!

  “What’s wrong?” she asks. She sounds guilty, scared.

  I lift my head and raise the test. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

  Her eyes widen, and silence forms between us. Like a never-ending bubble. Growing, growing, growing…pop!

  “Listen—” she begins.

  “Did you purposefully skip a pill or something?” I accuse before I can stop it.

  Shut up, shut up, shut up.

  I can’t.

  She gasps, and anger flashes across her face, her big blue eyes. “Of course not.”

  “Why should I believe you? You’re so fucking desperate to have a child; why wouldn’t you throw a pill or two or five down the toilet? Force yourself to be with my fucked-up child because it’s been your dream ever since you were in tutus?”

  Tears fill her eyes, and she shakes her head. “I would never do that!”

  “Why not? Girls have done it before. Tried to tie me down because I fucked them so good, they didn’t want me to slip through their slimy fingers.” I stand up and tower over her. She takes a step back, looking up at me like I’m some kind of scary beast.

  “I…Grey, it isn’t mine,” she tries to lie.

  “Stop lying!” I push her into the wall and slam my injured fist on the wall. Blood. My knuckles are bleeding. I may have broken my fucking hand. Again! Shit!

  “I’m not,” she claims. Then her face twists in anger through her tears. “After everything we’ve been through, you really think I’d do that?”

  No.

  “Yes!” I scream, and she flinches.

  Trembling lips and her brilliant mind going a thousand miles per second, she pushes against me and storms out of the room. Slams the door behind her.

  I chase after her down the hall, push her against a wall.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” I demand.

  She slaps me. “Fuck you, Grey,” she seethes.

  Pushing against me, she moves an inch before I lose it and desperately grab her hand, pull her into my chest. Kiss her head like she loves so much. I need to calm down, need to have her with me. Hades holding his sweet girl, I am selfish, and I can’t let go.

  “Please don’t leave me. Don’t go,” I plead, mumble into her hair.

  “Off me. Get the fuck off of me!” She pounds her little fists at me, choking on her sobs. I grip her tighter. She makes panting noises. She’s begging, crying, screaming her head off.

  Selfish. Hades. Can’t let go.

  Finally, she stomps on my feet and pushes me away. Steps away from me.

  “You don’t get to hold me after you accuse me of getting pregnant on purpose when I’m not even pregnant in the first place!”

  “Stop lying to me!” I scream and cry and hold my head.

  Why is she lying? Why won’t she tell the truth? The world is getting another fucking psychopath.

  “I’m not lying, you fucking prick! If you’d just listen to me, you’d understand!” she screams, and I cry some more.

  “You are the most fucking insane man I have ever known. Why do you have to fuck up things every chance you get? Why can’t you just be normal? Stop crying, you pussy! How could I ever love you? You’re fucking crazy and hot-headed and worth shit. No, worse than shit! You’re a waste of fucking space!”

  “No, that isn’t true. Stop. Y-you love me!” I remind her, feeling my heart crack with every dirty lie that leaves her lips. They’re moving a mile a second, then they slow and her eyes are wide with worry. Then it’s twisted up in anger and disgust, and it’s creased, and fire is shooting out of her mouth.

  “Fucking insane person! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would I want to be pregnant by you? It’d just be like you, maybe even worse!”

  Lips moving.

  Lips silent.

  Face scrunched.

  Face loose.

  “Stop that! Just—just stop it. Please. Liv, I’m sorry!” I scream, close my eyes.

  Stop it. Listen to her. Shut up, Liv. I can’t think. I’m going to explode. Going to hurt you. Move away. Don’t you hear the ticking bomb. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I push her away from the bomb that goes off in my head. I’m thrown back on my feet, my head lands the fall, and pain shoots to every limb in my body. Blood coats the floor, and I’m dead.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she screams from the rubble.

  How is she still alive? That was a big one.

  “You’re getting rid of it! Fuck! Just look at me. I’m fucking losing my mind. Why would you possibly want another child? I don’t even want you. Not with that…thing.” Fucking idiot. Her. Me. Her. Me. “I’m not having a child with you. Ever. I don’t want it. You can take your shit and leave!” I’ll be protecting you. Saving you from my bullshit, its bullshit. We’ll just drive you to kill yourself.

  She blinks and takes a step back. “You don’t…you don’t mean that.” She steps forward, and wailing and barking and crying explode behind my eyes.

  “I do! I don’t fucking want it or you anymore! Get out,” I scream and ball my hands into fists.

  “Grey, just calm down. Let me talk—”

  I push at her shoulders, and she falls to the ground. She moans in pain.

  Fuck!

  I fall to my knees. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Yes, you did.

  “Yes, I did. Get the fuck out! I don’t want it! Leave, leave, go! It’ll be a disappointment. Just go, Olivia!” I scramble to my feet and glare at her with every ounce of hatred I have for the world and all the people in it.

  Slowly, with eyes big as the moon, glistening with wet stars, she pushes to her feet and scrunches her face. Loose. Then just. Sad. “I’m not pregnant. Holly peed on the stick. Got it mixed up, went to the fucking doctor to make sure. And I am not fucking pregnant. But it’s nice to know how you would have re
acted.” She pauses. “You’re more fucked up than I thought. There is no fixing you. You’re just fucking fucked up.”

  With one last glance, she storms out of the apartment. I hear the elevator doors close. And I fall to my knees and cry and cry and pound my fists into the ground. Crack. Crack. Blood everywhere. On the walls, floor, probably the fucking ceiling. I just lost my sweet goddess girl because I’m a fucking insane person. I knew this would happen. Fucking knew.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Liv

  Mother Nature must hate me because it’s raining. Hard. My car races on, eating the road and following mindless turns I make as I cry, matching the pounding rain. I have no idea where I’m going. I just have to put at least a little distance between that monster and me.

  That monster.

  Grey.

  The beast.

  Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I drive crazy when I do, drive faster, turn wider. I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. Pull over and ignore the honk of the annoyed car behind me. I turn off the engine.

  I have to sit and think before I crash. There have been one too many car accidents lately. I don’t want to be involved in another one. I already have been in one that changed my life as I knew it and for the very fucking worst.

  When I thought I was pregnant, I was scared. Worried. And stressed. But underneath all that rubble of over-thinking and fear, there was happiness. I didn’t show it through my numb and frazzled façade. But it was there, shining through the dust like a glittering diamond. Instead of plucking it out and admiring it in all its dazzling glory, I let it lay there. Unseen. Untouched. I didn’t want to be happy when I knew my boyfriend, the love of my life, the only man I know I will ever really love, wouldn’t want the baby.

  It hurt to think he would reject him or her, reject me. I knew he didn’t want a child or marriage or anything that would tie us together permanently. I knew he was lying when he said we’d compromise and save the conversations for later.

  But I still stayed with him. Still believed him and still loved him. Held onto the faith that he would change his mind.

  But he hasn’t.