by Renee Dyer
“Oh shit, you should see your face. Hysterical.”
She continues to laugh and I can only watch, paralyzed by how much I’ve needed her in my life and never knew it. That one thought scares the hell out of me because I know losing her is inevitable. Guys like me don’t win. I’m not Prince Charming. I’m not the knight in shining armor. I won’t be riding in to save the damsel in distress. I’m the demon that will lock the princess in the tower, try to keep her from everyone she loves, and get slayed while the kingdom rejoices my death. Our story can only ever end this way because I’m the villain.
“We’re not watching sparkly vampires then?”
“As much as I love them, no. I wouldn’t put a man through that. I don’t understand why men seem to have an aversion to the movies, but for you and me, I picked Terminator.”
I just shake my head at her. She got me. Little shit.
“What? You don’t like Ahnold?”
I can’t help but laugh at her Arnold impersonation.
“It’s not a—”
“Don’t you even finish that line, Grant,” she says, smacking my shoulder.
Laughter erupts from her lips and tears start trickling down her cheeks. If it weren’t for her smile, I would pull her into my arms because the nightmare I had a few days before rushes back to haunt me. I never want to see her cry. Reaching out, I wipe the wetness from her face and she stills at my touch. A moment passes between us, but I’m not sure what to make of it.
We’re friends and I need to keep it that way. For both our sake.
“Thanks for watching through my scene with me,” she blurts out, breaking the tension that had formed. “I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong, but you were right. It was all in my stance. The angle of my body was throwing off the entire frame. I’m surprised Eddie didn’t say anything. Maybe he’s too distracted by my birthday party.”
Her what?
“Oh, God! I forgot to tell you. Please tell me you don’t have plans Saturday. Oh man, it’s only two days away, of course you have plans.” She starts wringing her hands together and I grab at them to stop her. “It won’t be the same without you. Eddie and Tucker are throwing me a birthday party at Petey’s. I was about to tell you the other day when Tucker walked up to us talking in the hall. It’s at eight. You have to be there. You’re the best friend I have here.”
“Did you just call us besties?” I joke, but I’m pissed. I should be throwing her a party, not that fucking piece of shit, Stavros. How did I not know she wanted a party?
“The very best of besties,” she chuckles out.
“Maybe we should get matching t-shirts.”
“Grant, stop teasing me,” she says, smiling. “You’ll be there, right?”
“Nothing could keep me away.”
“Are you sure? Will you be okay with being around Tucker all night? I went to lunch with him yesterday.”
It feels like she kicked me in the nuts. Lunch with Tucker. My worst nightmares are coming true. He’s going to start telling her how awful I am, get her looking into my background. It’s all going to start falling apart now.
“I told you, nothing will keep me away. Isn’t that part of the bestie code?” I keep joking because I don’t know how else to handle this situation.
“Grant, I’m serious. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I really want you there.”
“I’ll be fine, buttercup. Did you have a good lunch?” Why did I ask that?
“Actually, it was a little strained.”
I feel myself tense up. If he did anything to hurt her…
“Do I need to go old school mafia on his ass for you?” I ask with a smile on my face, but I totally mean every word.
“Ha ha. No. He and I just needed to clear the air. He warned me about you. I told him you and I are friends and he needs to respect that. I’m trying to be friends with him like I am with you and Eddie. He looked so sad before, but I don’t think he is anymore. It seems things have worked out with his girl from across the country, although that has to be hard. You know, being so far away from the person you care about. Anyway, I need friends, too. It’s lonely being so far from home.”
“Well then, I support you in your friendship endeavors,” I lie. The thought of her being friends with Tucker and Eddie makes me want to stick hot pokers in my eyes.
“Really?” she smiles.
“Really. I want you to be happy here, Cammie. Now, how about some ass kicking robot time, bestie?”
She rolls her eyes at me and I burrow further into my couch, needing to feel close to her for as long as I can. She resumes her new favorite position of laying her head on my shoulder, we place the popcorn between us, and start the movie. Every so often, our hands touch and electricity runs up my entire arm. She’s dangerous to my very existence, but I’ll be damned if I heed the warning signs. She’s waking something up inside of me that needs to stay asleep. That beast has the ability to destroy everything in its path.
Her “oomps” and “aghs” and “kick his ass” and “oh no, run” have me cracking up. Her body jolts with the action of the movie and it’s apparent she has seen this movie several times as she recites line after line. Watching her like this makes me want to kiss her. I know I’m not supposed to think of her like this, but I want her. I’ve wanted her since the second I first laid eyes on her and that feeling is only intensifying with every moment I spend in her presence.
Her warmth against my body almost lulls me into a sense of peacefulness. I almost let my demons rest for a while and allow my mind to stop plotting my next step long enough to simply enjoy the tranquility that comes with having someone care about me, but then I remember she doesn’t know me. Not really. She knows whom I portray. She knows who I wish I could be for her. I would give anything to truly be this man she sees, but I’m not.
I’m not. I’m the man who’s planning to take down the man she’s becoming friends with as I tell her I stand behind that friendship. As much as I’ll hate myself for it, I’ll extract information about Tucker from her and she’ll never realize I’m doing it. I already plan to use the information she unwittingly gave me today to keep my paparazzo friend in New Hampshire, watching Tucker’s girlfriend. It’s apparent there’s still a story there.
I’m a bastard and I don’t deserve one minute I’m spending with her…but I need it. I need her acceptance, even though it may mean destroying her.
What does that say about the man I am?
I’m not much of a man at all, am I?
Three quarters of the way through the movie, a knock sounds at the door, making Cammie jump. It startles me, too. I’m not expecting anyone and I didn’t give permission for anyone other than Cammie to be sent up. Maybe it’s one of the neighbors.
I move out from under Cammie being on my shoulder and make my way to the door. Fear races through my blood. What if it’s Melanie? Benny has been known to be swayed by the female persuasion before and he’s working the desk tonight. Trying to breathe as evenly as possible, I continue to make my trek across the apartment, hoping Cammie doesn’t pick up on my unease. At the door, I look through the peephole and my heart drops into my feet at the sight of who’s on the other side.
I slowly open the door and cringe.
“Hey, l…” He must see Cammie because he smiles before he says, “lugnut. Did you forget we were going to the gym tonight? Hi, Cammie.”
“Hey, Davyd. I’m sorry. Grant didn’t tell me you two had plans tonight.”
That’s because we don’t and that bag in his hands is definitely not gym gear.
“He must have forgotten. What are you two crazy kids up to?” he asks with that fucking smirk on his face that makes me want to kill him.
“Movie night,” she says, clearly not picking up on my anxiety. I want this motherfucker out of my place now.
“Yeah, whatcha watching?” He’s acting like he actually cares when I know he wants her the hell out of here so he can punish me for having her here.
<
br /> “Terminator,” she says, excitedly.
“Ooh, classic. Love that movie.”
“It’s almost over, but I don’t mind if you join us, so long as Grant doesn’t. I feel bad that you guys missed your gym time.”
Oh God, Cammie. You just invited the lion to dinner.
“I’d love to,” he says, walking to my couch. I want to throw up. “I didn’t know you and Grant were such good friends.”
“We are. He’s been so good to me since I moved here.”
I want to smile, but I’m worried what Davyd is taking from this conversation and what he will do with it. He places his bag down and I can hear the metal cling. I don’t know how Cammie doesn’t get it. She hasn’t looked at me once. If she did, she’d know. There is no friendship between him and me.
“He is great, isn’t he? You just have to love how friendly he is.” Davyd looks at me and the fury staring back at me makes my blood go cold. I need to get Cammie out of here as soon as possible.
I grab Davyd a beer without asking if he wants one. I’m not bothering with niceties, I just want this night over.
I sit down next to Cammie and although there is another couch to sit on, Davyd sits on the other side of me. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe how I feel. He plays it off by saying he’s trying to get the best angle of the TV screen, but I know the truth. He’s trying to show that he owns me in front of Cammie. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but I sure as hell do.
Davyd and Cammie laugh and act like the characters of the movie while I live in hell, trying to figure out how to kick her out after it’s over. She doesn’t understand he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying. It’s all an act to gain information. Information he can use against me.
I now see how much of an asshole I am. This is how I’ve used people for years. It’s not so pretty seeing yourself in someone else’s skin, especially when you’d like to see the skin flayed off that person.
Sitting here, I start to envision the multiple ways I could kill Davyd with my bare hands. Problem with those murders is getting rid of the fingerprints. I’ve been thinking about his death a lot lately and every time it comes back to one loose end—Melanie.
I don’t know what he’s told her or just how far he’s implicated me, but I have to figure out how to get that information from her. He seems to always be a step ahead of me and I need to change that. Lately, I’ve toyed with the idea of killing him a few too many times for me to be comfortable in my own skin. I know it’s only a matter of time before I snap and cross a line I’m never going to be able to come back from.
As the movie ends, I decide it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t believe me, I need her away from Davyd. I tell them I have a headache coming on and want to get ready for bed. Davyd asks if we can go over the upcoming week’s gym schedule real quick before leaving and I nod. Cammie looks at him like he’s a total dick and I hold in a laugh. She hugs me before leaving and tells me to rest.
I make sure to lock the door behind her so there’s no chance of her walking in on what’s about to happen. Her mind would shatter at the depravity.
I hear the zipper on his bag and I swallow around a dry throat. I don’t know if I can turn around, if I can see the passion that burns in his eyes. One of these times, I will break.
“Come here, lover. I have something special for you tonight.”
I stand frozen. My hearts pounds in my chest. I can’t speak.
“I said, come here.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, but I’ve lost complete control of every part of my body. My brain has completely gone on the fritz. I need it to work, but it’s checked out on me. It’s left me standing here, paralyzed, able to feel what’s going to happen, but unable to fend off the attack.
What the fuck am I going to do?
His hot breath flutters across my neck and I squeeze my eyes tightly closed, trying to block it all out, but images of him bombard me. My eyes fly open and I stare straight ahead at my door.
“You’re going to like this, lover.”
I feel coolness slip around my neck. What the fuck? I throw my hands up, but it’s too late. He’s already buckling it behind my neck and slapping my hands away. I dig at the…the collar. He fucking collared me. Why do I keep letting this happen?
I hear a click and then he starts tugging me…like a goddamn dog. I’m so ashamed, but I don’t stop him. I obey like a good animal should. He’s been saying he’s my master and now he’s showing me what that means.
I guess he finally got me to break.
Chapter Nineteen
Grant
I stand off to the end of the bar and watch Cammie welcome everyone to her party. Her smile reaches across the room and makes it bearable to be here. Eddie and Tucker stand beside her, shaking hands with all of the guests. They look like proud peacocks, showing off their colors and strutting around. They keep putting their hands on her shoulders as they welcome in each new guest and I want to throw up at their obvious shows of self-importance. Tonight is supposed to be about Cammie, but I’ve watched just about everyone who has come through the door show three times more attention to those two oafs than her.
It’s starting to piss me off.
Who am I kidding? I’ve been pissed since I found out they were the ones throwing this party and now their behavior is just adding to my anger. And the fucking balloons...for a twenty-year-old, really? What’s worse is they did them in red and black. I’m sure it’s symbolic of her being the new vampire on the show, but if they wanted balloons, why didn’t they find out her favorite color?
I want to walk up to them and say, “It’s yellow, by the way,” and then walk off while they try to figure out what the hell I’m talking about. It’s not just any yellow; it’s this pale shade that is so fair, I thought it might actually be cream. She told me she saw the color on a baby when she was young and since then, any time she can find any clothes she likes in that shade, if she can afford it, she buys it. The tank top she had on the first time we went to lunch was that pale yellow and I remember how it complemented her dark hair and blue eyes.
I wonder if she could ever not look stunning.
“Quite the party the boys have thrown, huh?”
My skin prickles and I feel the hair at the back of my neck start to rise. Why can’t he leave me alone? I take a sip of my beer, trying to give off the impression that I’m unaffected before I slowly turn to face the only person who can make me feel fear.
“Cammie seems to be enjoying herself,” I reply. I make sure to keep my tone even, knowing he’s looking for any little thing he can use against me. “Where’s Emma?”
He normally brings her to work soirees and spends the night showing off his perfect wife. Doesn’t that speak volumes about Davyd and the control freak he is? He has the beautiful, timid wife who caters to his every whim. She comes to all the functions as his picture perfect eye candy. Everyone sees them as the ideal couple, but no one knows the sick man he is. They don’t know the fetishes he has or what she allows. They have a far from seamless marriage. I’d say they need a tailor, not a shrink. The thread holding their relationship together isn’t just frayed or snagged, I think it snapped.
“I’m leaving soon to meet her at another gathering, but I didn’t want to miss this.”
The gleam in his eyes tells me he’s enjoying putting me on edge. Fuck that. It’s time I pull his balls out of my ass and gain some of my manhood back. I came here for Cammie and Cammie only.
“If you’ll excuse me, Davyd.”
I leave him standing at the bar, his mouth wide open, I’m sure. Damn, that felt great. With a hell of a lot more swagger in my step than I’ve felt in weeks, I head for my friend with her birthday gift. Eddie and asshat can be pissed all they want, but I’m stealing her away before part of her gift gets ruined. It might already be.
I cross the floor in long strides, feeling happier by the moment. Even Tucker noticing my impending arrival does nothing to sully my mood. Pretty boy
can suck a large donkey nut for all I care.
“Gentlemen.” They both turn and irritation replaces the smiles they had been adorning for everyone else. “Would you mind if I steal Cammie for just a few minutes?” Before they can protest and tell me she needs to continue greeting guests I go on to explain, “Her gift is time sensitive. I promise to bring her right back.”
“Grant, you don’t need their permission, silly,” Cammie laughs from between them, “and you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Well, I’d be a terrible bestie if I didn’t.”
She laughs again and the two boneheads know they have no choice but to step aside. They aren’t happy about it, and doesn’t that just add to my joy.
We walk to a table a few feet away where no one else is milling about and I place the box on the table. She eyes it and the yellow bow before looking at me with a grin. She starts to raise her hand to the bow, but I stop her by putting my hand over hers.
“Go slow.” She glares at me and I have to work hard not to chuckle at her. “You’ll understand.”
She slowly takes the bow off and un-tapes the ribbon. I watch as she carefully opens the lid to the box and peeks inside. Her brow furrows in confusion and she glances at me, trying to understand my hesitation in her opening the gift.
I reach into the box, pull it out, grab one of her hands, and wrap it around the travel mug. Her eyes go wide when she feels the warmth radiating from inside and then, she smiles.
“Is it?”
“A caramel latte from There’s Something About Joe.”
She twirls the cup around in her hand for a minute and I wonder if she’s looking at the design. It’s pink with white daisies all over it.
“Oh my God, Grant! What is this?”
I snap to attention, half lost in the thought of the cup, trying to figure out what she’s talking about. I look at her and see she’s pulling off the gift card I taped to the bottom of the mug.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars?”
“Not enough?” I ask.
