Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3)

by Renee Dyer

  And he knows it.

  This afternoon, Eddie pulled me, by the fabric of my shirt sleeve, into his office, as I was walking down the hall. He’s lucky he caught me right after speaking with Cammie so I was in a good mood. Otherwise, I may have laid him on his ass for putting his hand on me and lost my job in the process.

  “I thought I told you Cammie is a nice girl,” he vomits the words into the air as he hurls me into his office.

  “Gee, Eddie, not even going to bother asking how my day is going? I think I’m offended.” I throw my hand up in front of my chest like I’m hurt.

  Actually, I’m fuming. Who the fuck does he think he is to pull me in here like this…like I’m a child he can berate?

  “Don’t act coy, Grant! You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s young and innocent and we both know what you are. What you’ll do to her.”

  He stops pacing and stands to his full height in front of me. He is a tall bastard, but so am I. His few inches over me isn’t intimidating me one bit. I’m not some sally-ass pansy he can loom over and back into a corner. If that’s what he’s expects, he better get ready for the sourpuss, because that’s the face he’ll be displaying every time he sees me around Cammie.

  “I don’t know what your problem is. Yes, I fucked Victoria. She was miserable.” He rears back like I slapped him, his nostrils flaring in anger. Guess I have his attention now.

  “Could I have handled the situation with her better? Probably.”

  “Situation?” he sputters. “Situation? Is that seriously all you see it as? You had an ongoing affair with your co-worker’s girlfriend for almost a year and you decided to end it by fucking her in his trailer when you knew you’d be caught.”

  “As I said, I could have handled things better.” I refuse to let him rattle me, but I’m enjoying seeing him bent out of shape. The famously composed Eddie Carmichael is coming unwound and it’s taking very little prodding. “I’m curious, would you be this up in arms if the co-worker I’d slept with wasn’t dating your best friend?”

  “Excuse me?” His fists clench and I wonder if I could make him snap enough to punch me. How would Tucker handle knowing I got his best friend to punch me over a conversation involving him?

  “I know I don’t stutter and I’ve never heard that you have hearing difficulties. If I hadn’t been fucking Tucker’s girlfriend, would you be this pissed off? Simple question.”

  I leave the question hanging in the room. I swear, I can see the words swirling around the room, trying to break through the anger that has built up between us. I want to flick one of those words and see where it lands. Will it bounce off an invisible barrier, continue to float, or will it explode from the magnitude of contained fury?

  “I would be angry for any members of this show if another cast member slept with their significant other,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “Didn’t really answer my question, but I guess you kind of did, didn’t you?”

  He steps toward me and I laugh.

  “What do you find so humorous?” I can physically feel his rage. His body is vibrating from it. His need to cause me bodily harm is so strong, a vein is ticking in his jaw.

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  A look of confusion crosses his face and I realize I don’t want to fight him today. It will be more fun to watch him fall, right alongside Tucker.

  “Yes, you. You have your panties all in a bunch about Cammie and me and we’re just friends. Last I checked, friendship is allowed on this set. We’ve never held hands. We’ve never kissed. Hell, we’ve never even hugged. We’re friends. I would think that you, as the friend she tells me you are, would want that for her. What Vic and I had was a very different thing. Cammie and I will never be that.”

  “You’re right, you won’t, because I will never let you do to her what you did to Vic!”

  “You’re not getting it, Eddie. I could never do to her what I did to Vic. I don’t look at her the same way. Maybe you should watch how I am with her for just a second. You would see that.”

  I don’t know why I bother trying to defend myself. He’s right in trying to stop me from being around her. Every second of every day, I question whether I should continue this friendship. I’m scared to death that I’m going to destroy everything that is good and beautiful about her, but I’ll never admit that to this self-righteous prick.

  “I’m leaving now. If you don’t have any other ways you wish to insult me, I need to go clean my place for Cammie to come over tonight. Unless, of course, you want to pull her in here, like you just did to me, and warn her about the devilish things I may do to her when I get her alone.”

  “Asshole. Get out of my office.”

  “Gladly.”

  “If you do anything to hurt her—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, big brother. You’ll rip off body parts, break my legs, bury me where no one can ever find me. I already got the warning. I’m glad you’re looking out for her. Just know I feel the same way.”

  I walk out of his office to the sound of him slamming chairs around. Seeing Cammie tonight was enough of a reason to smile, but knowing I got under Eddie’s skin just might make me hard.

  I’m washing my hands when I hear the door lock behind me. Instantly, my body and mind go on full alert. I know without raising my head and looking in the mirror who will be there. He’s not normally this brazen. He pulled a stunt like this once, in the early morning, when the other members of the show weren’t here yet, but he’s never tried to do anything when we’re at full staff.

  “Hey, lover,” is whispered in my ear. I shudder. “Miss me?”

  I keep my head down and don’t respond. His zipper lowering sounds out throughout the room and I feel my stomach drop to my feet. He can’t really mean to take payment now for what I owe for last week. My heart is beating so hard, it may explode.

  How would he explain that one?

  “Davyd, everyone is here. We can’t do this,” I say weakly.

  “We can and we will. You owe me.”

  His hands come around my waist and undo my pants. He slides them down my legs and the air-conditioned coldness hits my bare skin. I wish I could say that’s what makes me shiver.

  “Hold on to the sink, lover. I’m not going easy on you today.”

  The second he bends me over, I succumb to the blankness my mind offers. I crawl into the dark corner, pull my knees up to my chest, and stay that way until it’s all over, allowing my mind to protect me from what’s really happening.

  No one tried to come into the bathroom. I don’t know whether it was a fluke or if Davyd somehow engineered it, but I’m useless the rest of the day. I’ve never missed a day of work or left early until today and I’m sure Eddie thought it was because of our talk. So be it. I need to be away from the foulness of what happened.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  I’m starting to visualize ways of taking his life. I’ve thought of hurting people before, but it’s always been more of an emotional pain. I find that harder to recover from. What I want to do to Davyd is pure torture.

  The things I see in my head when I think of him frighten me because I know I could be pushed to a breaking point. I know I could be capable of the things I imagine. I can easily become the devil himself.

  Right now, I’m tempted.

  A knock at the door brings me out of my downward spiral into insanity. My body starts shaking from fear that it could be Davyd. I’m not ready to deal with him again. What if he demands more payment?

  I think I’d kill him tonight.

  The knock sounds out again. He won’t be ignored. It makes it worse. On wobbly legs, I stand from the couch and slowly make my way to the door. I search my apartment for weapons, already deciding I won’t let him touch me again tonight. Once was more than I can take today. A third knock sounds and my stomach lurches. I shove my fist to my mouth, trying to stop myself from being sick.

  At the door, I lay
my head against it for a second, trying to gain a little strength from the solidity of the wood. I take a couple deep breaths and with no more time to waste, open the door.

  “Hey, Gra—oh my gosh! Are you sick? I know you left early, but I heard you had an appointment. I brought pizza because I thought you’d be busy all afternoon. Maybe I should have called first. Gosh. Should I go get you some soup?”

  “Hey, buttercup. Pizza sounds great. Come on in.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cammie

  Holy hell. Grant looks terrible. I’ve never seen him look so pale and he’s sweating. I think he may fall over, he looks so weak. I should have called before coming over. Stupid me, assuming we still had plans tonight. He left work early. I should have known better than to just come knocking on his door.

  Why the hell am I babbling away to a guy who looks like death warmed over?

  Stop talking, Cammie, and say goodnight. Let the poor man get some rest. He obviously needs it.

  Wait, what did he just say? Did he call me buttercup? Oh, he invited me in. Maybe I should stay and make sure he’s okay.

  I step into his apartment and notice right away that it’s much fancier than my own, but it’s not decorated. Well, it has furniture and electronics, but there are no pictures, nothing that makes it feel like a home. There are no knick-knacks or staging, as others would call it. There’s no life to it. It’s just a bunch of space. I can’t learn anything about Grant from his surroundings.

  “What kind of pizza did you bring and is that beer? How’d you swing that?”

  “No, not beer. Well, not really. It’s IBC…root beer. It’s my favorite. My mom ships cases of it to me. She makes sure I stay stocked up.”

  The smirk he gives me makes me wonder whether he’s patronizing me or thinks I’m humorous. I can’t tell. He’s off tonight. Normally, he would have taken the stuff from my hands.

  “Where should I put this?” I ask, slightly lifting the stuff I’m holding.

  “Oh, shit, sorry. Let me take those.”

  “Honestly, Grant, you look like you might collapse under the weight. How about you tell me where to put them? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Wow. Did that sound as horrible to him as it did to my own ears? That was mean.

  “Yeah. I fell asleep and you woke me up from a nightmare, I guess.”

  “You want to talk about it?” I offer. It must have been a doozy for him to look and act like this.

  “I don’t remember it.”

  Ah-ha. Sure you don’t. That’s what all the guys say. At least, the tough guys like Grant.

  “Is pepperoni okay? I’m kind of boring when it comes to my pizza.”

  He chuckles at me and my belly does little flip-flops. You’d think I’d have a perfect six pack with how often my stomach gets a work out around him.

  “I’m a guy. I inhale pretty much anything.”

  I can’t think about him inhaling. Again, word references are making me a hormonal mess. Why did I not pick a boy from home and just do the ditty before I came out here to be around all these hot ass TV stars? All I think about is sex. I’m worse than a teenage boy and I’ve heard how much they think about doing it.

  “Cammie?”

  “Huh?”

  “I was telling you I’m going to go wash my face and I’ll be right back. The plates are right there and if you want a glass for your root beer, they’re right there.”

  “Thanks.”

  While he’s in the other room, I grab us both plates and serve two pieces each. I’m not prissy, so I forego the glass. There’s no table to eat at. I hadn’t noticed that when I first walked in. But he has stools at the island in the kitchen.

  I grab the plates from the counter and turn to find Grant, standing against the wall, staring at me. His hair is wet and he looks more composed. His brown eyes are trying to tell me something, but I can’t understand the message.

  “I was just bringing the food to the island. I didn’t know what you want to drink,” I say lamely.

  “We can eat in the living room,” he replies, smiling. I feel like I’m back with the Grant I’ve been getting to know. “I promised you a movie.”

  He walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out a beer. I hope he doesn’t offer one to me. I don’t want to sound lame or like a teenager when I say I’m too young to drink. I know lots of people don’t care about that, but a car full of kids from my high school died in a drunk driving accident my sophomore year. I haven’t touched alcohol and don’t plan to until I’m of age. Maybe not even then.

  If I’m honest, it’s one of the few things in life that scares me. I’ve seen friends become totally different people under the influence, do things they never would have done sober. I’ve also seen the regret they live with afterward. Then, there are the hangovers and getting sick. It just doesn’t seem worth it to me.

  “So, what work of wonder did you pick for us to watch tonight?” I ask playfully as we sit down to eat.

  He gives me a look that asks, do you really doubt my movie picking ability?, and I laugh. I love how easy it is to spend time with him.

  “Only the best movie of all time. Drum roll, please.” He drums out a beat on his leg which makes me smile. I know no one else ever sees this side of him. He’s nice to people, but he’s never playful. “Avatar.”

  “Ooh. I love that movie. One of the best love stories of our time written into an action-packed film and this sci-fi geek gets her fill of all things alien.” I know I need to stop babbling.

  “Whoa! Love story. Are you trying to ruin the movie for me? This is one of the most kick ass movies of our generation and you just reduced it to a ‘love’ story?”

  Not only does he throw up air quotes, but he looks pained. I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. Grant just had a minor tantrum.

  Before I know what’s going on, my plate is removed from my hand and he’s tickling me mercilessly.

  “Grant, stop!” I screech in between gushing laughs. I try throwing my arms out in the way to protect myself, but he easily restrains me. So, I use my legs.

  “Oh no, little girl. I’m going to tickle you until you admit that Avatar is not a love story. It’s kick ass.”

  “Never,” I laugh. “You can’t diminish the love and passion Jake Sully and Neytiri have for each other.”

  “Take it back,” he demands, smiling. He sits on top of my legs to stop their flailing.

  “I won’t do it. Admit it, Grant. Deep down, you watch Avatar because you’re secretly wishing it was about you.”

  He stills above me and the smile leaves his face. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make a move to get off me. It’s as if he’s reverted into himself.

  I lay still beneath him for a few minutes, until the silence and his lack of expression or emotion becomes too much to witness. Wiggling one of my hands free, I bring it to his cheek. In his lost state, I’m not sure he realizes he nuzzles into my touch. It breaks my heart how disconnected he is. Not just from me and this moment, but his apartment speaks for it, too. I want to know who hurt him and I want them to pay.

  “Grant,” I say gently.

  Slowly, his eyes start to clear and he becomes aware of his surroundings. He must feel my hand against his skin because he quickly sits up and then moves off me completely. He offers me his hand to help me sit up. Always the gentleman. I miss the playful guy from a minute ago.

  “You’re right, Cammie. They do have a pretty epic love story.”

  He can’t look at me when he says this and I wonder if he’s ever been in love before. Someday, I hope we get to a point where I can ask him that.

  We grab our pizza that is now cold and Grant starts the movie. We sit a little further apart than I’d like, but I can tell he needs the space. I don’t know what went through his head, but it did a number on him and I think it still is. I wish I could help him.

  After we finish eating, I take our plates to the sink. It gives me the reason I was looking for
to sit closer to him. I hate the way his body tenses as I sit down. I want to tell him I’m not sitting on his lap and I’m not naked, but maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he’s attracted to me, too.

  “Grant?”

  “Yeah,” he says, not taking his eyes from the TV.

  “Why’d you call me buttercup?”

  “Story for another day, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I can tell he’s not going to talk about it, even if I poke and prod, so I let it go. For now. I will find out what buttercup means to him. For tonight, I lay my head on his shoulder, watch the rest of Avatar as his friend, and wonder just what friend means to him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grant

  “You aren’t who I thought you were! I hate you!”

  “Cammie, wait! Let me explain. Please,” I plead with her rapidly retreating back. “No! Don’t walk away! You’re the only good I have in my life!”

  I fall to my knees, unable to chase her, knowing I never deserved her in the first place.

  “Cammie, I need you!”

  She turns to me, tears streaming down her face. Nothing could have gutted me more than the wetness coating her cheeks. I did this to her. I want to get up, to run to her, take her in my arms, and comfort her, but I remain paralyzed by the pain I see in her blue eyes. I am a monster.

  “I don’t care what you need!” she screams. “How could you? I trusted you with everything. With everything, Grant, and…you…you lied.” She sounds so defeated, even in her anger, and I know I’m the only one who ever could have hurt her like that. I took her trust and turned it around on her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s too late for sorry. I’ll never forgive you. I hope you rot in hell.”