by Anne Jolin
I turn my head and kiss him softly on the lips. “Not too shabby yourself there, Hunnam,” I say as we pull up in front of the bar.
It’s almost ten thirty and there’s already a line to get in the door. I step out onto the sidewalk and groan as I see it. Our friends are already waiting there because they took the first cab, and I notice that Jay’s missing. But before I can ask where he is, he appears out of the lineup of people.
“How much do you love me?” He grins at all of us. “Well, it better be a lot because I just snuck us past this god-awful line.”
“How?” Beth asks in bewilderment.
“One of my—” he starts to say before Jami cuts him off.
“You don’t want him to answer that. Trust me.”
Jay grins smugly and turns around to start walking back into the bar. It’s packed and country music is blaring from the speakers. The guys definitely look a little out of place here with all of their tattoos and rock band T-shirts, but they actually really enjoy country music. Well, most of it, anyway. I’m not saying you’re going to find them singing along to Taylor Swift in the shower, but if Brantley Gilbert comes on the radio, they aren’t going to turn it off either.
We make our way over to one of the two bars and order drinks—a beer and a tequila shot for everyone. None of us are picky drinkers, so it makes it easy for us all to order for each other. After knocking back the shots at the bar so we don’t spill them while trying to carry them through the crowd of people, we grab our beers and manage to find a tall table to stand at. Greyson’s standing behind me, his arms resting on the table, effectively caging me in. He’s being protective and possessive, but I don’t mind it when it’s like this. To be honest, I love him in all of his alpha male glory. With the exception of when he’s punching people who don’t deserve it. However, if they do deserve it, then I wouldn’t feel so inclined to pull him off the poor bastard. My Hunnam could really do damage to someone’s face.
Guys and girls are all eyeing our table, trying to figure out if we’re three couples out together or if the other four are single. A pretty brunette—brave, apparently—bounces up to our table and throws herself at Jay. She’s wearing the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and on the tiny little shirt she’s wearing is a name tag. Well I guess there’s no confusion about who let us in then. He smiles and flirts with her before sending her back to work with a pat on the bum.
The music switches to a slow song and Eric Church’s “Like a Wrecking Ball” starts playing. Most of the people on the dance floor scatter to find partners, and all the drunk girls rush to find each other so they can sway to the music.
Greyson sets his beer on the table and does the same with mine before taking my hand. “Let’s dance.”
We walk out onto the middle of the dance floor and he wraps my arms around his neck, resting his hands above my ass. The song is about a man coming home to his woman and making love to her. It’s sexy and beautiful. He rests his forehead on mine and we start to move to the music. I’m lost to everything but him. The way he feels. The way he smells. The way my heart’s beating wildly in my chest. He lets me go only long enough to spin me around before pulling me back up against him. I laugh.
“You can be incredibly romantic,” I tell him.
He chuckles and my heart swells at the sound. “Only for you, sweetheart.”
As the song comes to a finish, he dips me low and kisses the heck out of me. For a minute, I almost forget that we’re standing in a crowd of people. I wrap my hands into his hair and deepen the kiss. I’m brought back to reality when some of the people around us start to hoot and holler. Greyson doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he slips his tongue in my mouth as he brings me back up to stand. The crowd gets distracted when a new upbeat song comes on, and my Hunnam gives me that cocky half grin before he nips at my lower lip.
“There won’t be any confusion tonight, Hannah. You’re mine,” he says, giving me a quick kiss. “And now there’s not a soul in this place that doesn’t know that.”
I laugh at him. He’s so absurdly territorial over me sometimes, but I don’t complain, because at the same time, I can’t deny that I love it. He rests his hand on the small of my back and leads us back to our friends.
“Well now, I didn’t realize we’d brought tonight’s entertainment with us!” Jay says, clapping his hands together dramatically.
“Don’t be jealous, Jay.” I wink at him.
Greyson pulls me against his chest. So possessive. I really shouldn’t make fun though, because if any of these girls were to touch him, I’d lose my shit and it would not be pretty—at all. It would be like women’s WWE SmackDown in here in two seconds flat. Minus all the rules though. I’d fight dirty for my man! I eye a few of the lingering girls near our table and glare at them. I’m not really a bitchy person, but I may have riled myself up unintentionally by thinking about another girl touching what’s mine.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur without incident. I laugh so hard I almost pee myself—more than once, I might add—and even the grumpus clan—Jami and Lennon—seem to have loosened up after a few beers. They are on the dance floor now. He is swinging her around and trying to teach her how to two-step. They look happy, and I hope for them that they can figure their shit out. Beth and Jay are busy scoping out other ‘hotties’ for each other and I shake my head at them. They’ve been doing this for the last hour and neither of them has actually left to talk to anyone. They are just kidding themselves really. It is some kind of backasswards way to flirt with each other.
I snuggle into Greyson and smile as I watch our friends. We’ve sort of become a little group. Although the other four still have their heads up their asses when it comes to how they feel about each other, we all have grown extremely close. Greyson let go of his theory that Jami is interested in me when he noticed the way he was with Lennon. I am with the man I love, the friends I love, and I am happy.
And that was right before it all went to shit.
I AM STILL on cloud nine through most of August. The weather has only gotten hotter—and so has my relationship with Greyson. I’ve almost moved in with him at this point. I have almost half of my wardrobe there, I shower there, and it has started to feel like our place. I was worried at first that it would freak him out a bit, wth him being such a commitment-phobe, but he seems to have embraced it, so I have too.
Greyson is on his four days off and my work was slow, so we decide to go see an afternoon showing of the new Transformers movie and go for dinner. He takes me to Rusty’s, a beautiful restaurant at the base of the mountain, and we’re sitting outside, watching the mountain bikers come down. We are holding hands while walking back to the truck when he stops suddenly and scoops me up into his arms.
“I love you, Hannah Rhodes. You know that, right?”
“Of course I know, because I love you too, Greyson Holt. Always will.”
His lips touch mine and I devour them instantly. I am absolutely, one hundred percent addicted to him. Our kiss goes from passionate to feverish quickly, and I am dying to get him home and into bed. I break our kiss and nearly drag a laughing Greyson back to the truck. He helps me up inside and we head for home.
By the time we pull up outside his condo, I am wiggling in my seat. I want him badly. It isn’t uncommon for me to need him this much. He does things to my body and my heart that I didn’t know I craved until he gave them to me.
We are walking up the path leading to his front door and I scream when a man steps out from the shadows. Greyson stops moving and instantly drops my hand that he was holding. Neither of the men is saying anything, but it’s quite obvious that they know each other. I am standing slightly behind Greyson and I can see him clenching and unclenching his fists. Who the hell is this man? He looks to be in his early sixties, and I imagine he once was a very handsome man, but now, he looks worn down. I start to wonder how long this stare down is going to go on for when the man finally speaks.
“Son,�
�� is all he says.
With that one word, every muscle in Greyson’s body goes tight. “Don’t call me that,” he snaps.
“I’m your father. You’re my son. Of course I’ll call you that,” the older man says, and the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
This is the bastard that broke the man I love. My posture changes and I am immediately radiating fury. I hate this asshole for what he’s done. I would happily love to tear a strip into him, but it isn’t my place to do so. I rein in my anger and wait to see how this will all play out.
“I don’t have a father,” Greyson responds through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”
“I just came to see you,” his father says, staggering closer. Now that he is standing a few feet from us, it is clear that he’s been drinking. The smell of whiskey is literally seeping from his pores.
“Bullshit.” Greyson has stopped unclenching his hands. They are now permanently set into fists and his knuckles are starting to turn white. “I said what the fuck do you want?” His body is shaking now, and my best guess is that he’s trying not to let his rage spill over.
“Don’t talk to me like that, you sorry sack of shit. I’m your fucking father! Show me some respect!” he yells.
Greyson doesn’t answer him. He just stands there. I can’t see much of his face, only the side from where I’m standing, but I don’t dare move. It’s like his father hasn’t noticed that I’m here and I’m not sure that I want him to.
“Dear old dad here’s gotten himself in a bit of a bind and he needs a little help from his only son,” he slurs. Greyson is still silent, and I can tell that it’s really starting to piss off his father. “Do you hear me, you stupid fuck?” He shoves Greyson in the chest, only knocking him back a few feet.
Before I even have time to see it coming, his father throws out his left fist and it connects with Greyson’s right eye. Greyson readjusts his posture after taking the blow to his face, but he still doesn’t say anything.
“What? Did your worthless mother not send you to school after I left? Do you even know how to fucking talk?” he roars, and this time, his fist connects with Greyson’s jaw.
Greyson spits his own blood onto the ground, still silent as a fucking church mouse. I have no idea why he isn’t standing up for himself, I know damn well that he’s capable of it, but I’ve had enough of this shit. I move around Greyson’s body and stand between the two men.
“Listen up, sperm bank!” I say, my voice coming out so harshly that I barely recognize it. “I don’t know why the hell you’ve come back to town, and frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck. You’re not welcome here.” My entire body is vibrating with rage. I take a step closer to him and shove my finger into his chest. “Take your drunk ass and go back to whatever nasty hellhole you crawled out of. If I see you on this property again, so help me God, I’ll kill you myself.” My chest is heaving and it takes everything I have not to punch him right in the mouth.
A menacing, shit-eating grin spreads across his face, and I’m stunned. He’s fucking laughing. This motherfucking piece of shit is laughing at me.
“I see you’re still letting the women in your life fight your battles for you.” The venom in his voice is unnerving. “You know that pretty little cunt won’t be able to hold on to him forever,” he says to me. “Holts aren’t one-woman men, darling.”
Whatever it was holding Greyson together finally snaps and he barrels past me, grabbing his father by the scruff of his neck and lifting him off the ground. “If you talk to her like that again, I will snap your fucking neck.” I can see his face now, and what I see scares the hell out of me. There is no semblance of my Hunnam there—not a trace. He’s morphed into someone I don’t even recognize.
His father doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated and continues to taunt him. “You’re just like me, son. You’re going to fuck up that little pussy right there and she’s going to end up just like your bitch of a mother did. All sad and pining after a man who doesn’t love her. She was pathetic and weak.”
Greyson slams his fist into the side of his father’s head with such force, I briefly wonder if he cracked his skull before deciding that I don’t really care. Greyson’s father grins at him, blood all over his teeth. The sight is absolutely frightening. Greyson never told me that this man used to hit him, but I know now without a doubt that he did.
Greyson pulls back his arm again and I grab it softly. “He’s not worth it, Greyson. Just let him go,” I say in the most soothing voice I can manage.
“Listen to the bitch, son. You won’t be able to fuck her from jail.” He laughs.
Greyson grabs him around the throat and the man’s eyes go wild when he realizes that he can’t breathe. “I won’t kill you. She’s right—you aren’t worth it.” I can see his fingers tighten even more, and his father is starting to turn blue. I tug at his arm, but it does nothing. I’m not even sure he can hear me screaming at him to stop. “If I see you again, David, I won’t hesitate twice.” The tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine, and I don’t doubt that he means what he’s saying. He finally drops his hand away and his father gasps for breath.
“You’re a fucking lunatic!” he shouts, moving quickly away, making sure to give Greyson a wide berth.
“I’m your son, aren’t I?” Greyson snaps.
I know in this moment that there’s not another person on this Earth I’ll ever hate as much as David Holt.
AFTER HIS FATHER took off in his piece-of-shit car, Greyson stormed into the house. I follow quickly behind him, shutting the door. He’s standing in the living room with his back to me, looking out the window. I can see that he’s still shaking, and my heart breaks for him. His description of his father was a sugarcoated one at best. The man I just met is a monster. A monster Greyson lived with for twelve years. A monster that killed his mother. I walk over to him and reach out to rest my hands on his shoulders. The second I touch him, he spins around so fast that it almost knocks me on my ass.
“What the fuck was that, Hannah?” he yells inches from my face.
I’m absolutely stunned. I have no idea what I did wrong. I’m trying to figure out how to answer, but he doesn’t give me the chance.
“Do you think I’m some weak asshole? You think I need you to stand up to my scary dad for me?” I shake my head because no words seem to be coming out of his mouth. “This is all your fucking fault. I had to hit my father in the fucking face because of you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s screaming so loud that my ears are ringing.
“I was just trying to help,” I squeak out. I don’t know where my backbone’s gone. Something in the tone of his voice has me shrinking and I hate it. I’m instantly slammed back into the way I used to feel when Jackson went manic. Scared and useless.
“Yeah, well, you weren’t fucking helping. I’ve got enough problems as it is. The last thing I need is to be coming to the rescue for some girl’s ‘damsel in distress’ act.” Some girl… Ouch, that fucking stung.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath.
“I’m fucking done with this,” he says, walking away from me and down the hall to his bedroom.
I’m standing there in the middle of the living room and I don’t know what to do. I know he’s reeling and hurting from having seen his father after so many years, so I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. In doing so, I follow him down the hall to his bedroom. He’s sitting on the foot of his bed, and when he looks up at me, his eyes are the coldest I’ve ever seen them before.
“You’re still here?” His icy tone has me shifting my weight from foot to foot.
“I just want to be here for you. I love you,” I say, taking a step towards him.
“I don’t care. We were a mistake. You’re a mistake. I should have never tried to do this. You talked me into it.” He’s not yelling, but his voice is raised.
“We need to talk about this,” I say, taking another step.
“Jesus Christ, Hann
ah!” He stands from the bed and shouts, “You’re so fucking needy! I said I’m done. I said this is over. Get the fuck out!”
I’m frozen in place and tears are starting to pool in my eyes.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you? Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
I turn on my heel and make it out the front door before the tears start flowing from my eyes. I don’t have my truck here and it’s too far to walk. I pull out my cell phone and dial Jami. I love my girls, but I just need someone who won’t ask me too many questions. Because right now, I don’t have the answer to any of them.
By the time Jami’s Jeep pulls up at the high school parking lot less than ten minutes later, I’m sobbing. My body is shaking so violently that I don’t even think I can stand. Jami runs his hand down the back of my hair and kisses the top of my head.
“Let’s get you home, Hannah,” he says before scooping me up in his arms and putting me into the seat.
I cry the entire way back to my house, and I’m still sobbing into his chest when he carries me into the house. The girls are out. It’s Monday night drinks at our favorite bar. I bailed to spend the night with Greyson. He takes me straight into the bathroom and sets me down on the edge of the bathtub.
“Stay here, Hannah,” he says. He doesn’t even need to tell me because I wouldn’t be able to move without his help even if I wanted to. He returns a minute later with a glass of water and two Advil, placing them on the counter. He starts to rummage through the doors. “Where’s that stuff you girls use to take off your makeup?” He’s frantically ripping through all the bathroom drawers before he finds it. He pulls one of the cloths out of the package and kneels down in front of me. I’m still crying now, hiccupping for air. “Look at me, Hannah. Look at me.” I look at him, but my vision is clouded by tears. “Hannah, you need to calm down. I need you to breathe for me. Take a deep breath.” He starts to show me what he means. Taking a deep breath in and letting it back out. I do my best to mimic him. “Good girl. Keep going.”
