Saving Greyson [Men of McKenna Downs 5] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Zoey Marcel

  “I wanted to heal you,” Melanie told Saul tearfully, “but you need therapy.”

  “I’m not crazy, damn you! Don’t you fucking say I am. You’re the only one who ever believed me about my past. I’ll kill you if you doubt me.”

  Her eyes closed and it broke Greyson’s heart to see her tears.

  “Saul—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Saul growled at him. “And you…stop talking!”

  Greyson became spooked when he saw Saul yelling at someone that wasn’t there. His guess would be that the psycho creep was hearing the voices again. The stupid shim could work anytime now.

  “You know what you did. I know you do!” Saul hollered at the nothing he stared at.

  “Who are you talking to?” Greyson asked.

  “Him.” Saul stared into space. “The voices won’t leave me alone. Goddamn you, L.D., you always quieted them. I’ve got to hurt you so they go away.”

  “Saul, wait.”

  “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

  She shook her head frantically. “No.”

  “’Cause it kind of seems like you do, and I don’t think I could handle it if you doubted me.”

  “I believe you. You told me years ago that someone hurt you. I believed you then and I still do.”

  Saul’s face turned grave. “That’s good, L.D. Sometimes I start to doubt myself. At the institution they said I was schizophrenic. They’re fucking liars. I never heard the voices until he…”

  Greyson dropped the shim.

  Damn it!

  He tried to look like he was listening to Saul’s story, but he needed a natural excuse for being on the floor. He flopped himself out of the chair and landed on his ass on the floor, hoping Saul didn’t shoot him.

  “Get your ass back on that chair,” Saul warned at gunpoint.

  Greyson fumbled for the shim and hid it in his hand as he sat back down on the chair.

  “What are you saying, Saul?” Melanie asked. “Are you saying you can’t remember being abused?”

  “I remember it perfectly,” Saul said quietly. “He was a biker who took me in when I ran away from home. When I turned eighteen he…” His head bowed. “Years later when I escaped, no one believed me, except for you, L.D. I hunted that man down. When I found him years later he said he’d found God.” Saul got a mocking grin, eyes hateful and full of pain. “It was touching, really, how he begged me for his life. He ignored my cries back then, so I ignored his, and I killed him.”

  “The voices you hear,” Greyson said while wiggling the shim in the hole. “How many do you hear?”

  “The devil, the preacher, and the stalker,” Saul said cautiously.

  “Is the preacher the man who hurt you?” Melanie asked.

  “That was his nickname at the motorcycle club he hung out at. His friends called him that because he was so blunt, always called things like he saw them.” Saul’s voice darkened and lowered in pitch. “Before I killed him he said he didn’t know who the hell I was. I saw it in his eyes when I told him. He knew who I was. They say I imagined it. Sometimes I think they might be right.”

  Melanie shivered. “Are you saying that the man who hurt you, all the stuff he did never happened?”

  Saul’s breathing became shaky and uneven. “I don’t know.” He screeched and began to pace. “It was real. I felt it, but there’s no evidence that the motorcycle club ever existed. I know it happened. He had something of mine. That’s proof it was real. I didn’t plant it there.” He started to quake and grit his teeth. “I know what happened. It had to, because if it didn’t that means I killed an innocent man. A man of God no less. He hurt me. There can’t be forgiveness for him.”

  “These three voices you hear,” Greyson said, “they’re all him, aren’t they? They’re just different aspects of him. The preacher was the man who made you trust him before he became the stalker who hurt you and ultimately the devil that haunts you still even after you killed him.”

  Saul nodded, eyes vulnerable. He cracked a smile that barely concealed the pain. “Well, look at you figuring me out. I tried so fucking hard to get you to hear the voices. We’re so much alike. How can you not see that? I put you through some of what I went through so you would understand.” His eyes narrowed to threatening slits and he stormed toward Greyson and shoved the gun to his head. “You don’t get to heal. If I don’t get healing, you sure as fuck don’t.”

  “Saul, stop!” Melanie begged.

  “Shut up!” Saul backed away from Greyson and shook his head with a rueful grin. “Do you know what he said to me? He said I was his and if I ever told anyone or fell in love he’d hurt me and kill the person I loved. You were my first woman, L.D. I tried to be good to you when we weren’t fooling around, but I was afraid to get too close to you.”

  “Saul—”

  “You don’t get to find healing with them.” Saul growled at Greyson. He pointed the gun at Melanie. “I need you to hurt and be afraid like I was. Sorry, Mel.”

  The handcuffs popped open and Greyson blurted, “I heard the voices.”

  Saul’s attention flew over to him. “How’s that now?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you, but I’ve heard the voices for years.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said I was meant to be with you.”

  Saul stared at him.

  Greyson continued. “I tried so fucking hard to forget about what you put me through. I went through woman after woman, but I couldn’t get hard for them anymore.” He looked at Melanie, praying that she saw through his facade and that Saul didn’t. “I’m sorry, Melanie. I couldn’t…”

  Saul grinned. “Well, nothing like your dick to make you face reality. You didn’t have any trouble getting it up for your male friend, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t, but the entire time…” Greyson heaved a sigh. “I can’t.”

  “Keep talking or I’ll put a bullet in her head.”

  “Every time I was with Diego, I kept wishing he was you.” Greyson hated the lying blackness of the words, but all he needed was for Saul to get close enough to him so he could get the gun from him.

  Saul’s hushed voice didn’t disguise his excitement. “I made you gay?”

  Greyson nodded. “No one was ever able to fulfill my fear obsession the way you did. You were right. We do have a lot in common, and when I heard the voices…I understood you.”

  Saul wiped his hand over his face and looked away for a second before meeting his stare. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to trick me?”

  “Look in my jacket.” He watched Saul back up before pulling the tray of blue pills out of his jacket pocket. “I can’t be with a woman now without taking those.”

  “How do I know you didn’t just get these today to trick me?”

  “Do you honestly think I had time after your phone call to run to the doctor without an appointment, drive to the pharmacy, and pick up a prescription and then come here all within a matter of a few minutes? If you know any doctors and pharmacists who are that fast, please enlighten me.”

  “Good point.” An evil grin spread across Saul’s face. “I told you I’d ruin you. What do you think of your cowboy now, L.D.?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” she said quietly without looking at them.

  Her answer killed him, but maintaining cover was crucial. “Are you happy now, you son of a bitch? I can’t stop hearing your voice in my head and wanting you.”

  Saul licked his lips and approached him slowly. “I knew if anyone could understand me, it would be you. I’m gonna eat you up.”

  “God knows I need you, but I don’t want to do this in front of her.”

  Saul groaned. “I told you someday you’d want me, and yeah, I’m gonna fuck you in front of her. You don’t have a choice, Sage.”

  Greyson didn’t know why the man called him Sage, but the rest of Saul’s words had him seeing red. He waited until Saul stood to the side of him before busting out
of the cuffs and rushing him. “I have a choice!”

  They scuffled on the floor, fighting for the gun.

  Saul didn’t let go of it. He stood, grinning and cocked the hammer on the gun. “Bad move, Greyson. So long, L.D.”

  Greyson threw the knife he’d snagged from Saul and it stuck in him before he could even pull the trigger. Greyson charged him and grabbed the gun so Melanie wouldn’t get hurt. Saul stumbled backward and slammed up against the wall.

  Working quickly, Greyson untied her. “I didn’t mean what I said, slick. I’ll explain later about the pills. The others should be here soon. Go outside and get away from here.”

  “What about you?”

  “Just do it.” He raised his voice to let her know he wasn’t clowning around.

  She ran out of the house like he told her to.

  He turned back to look at Saul who had slumped down onto his ass and was chuckling.

  “You killed the man who hurt you,” Saul pointed out. “You’re just like me.”

  “I might have exaggerated what the voices said, but I heard them.”

  “What did they say?”

  Greyson took careful strides toward the fallen man who was bleeding. “It was him.”

  Saul looked at him curiously, anxiously. “What did he say?”

  “He said he was sorry for hurting you and he begged your forgiveness.”

  Snorting, Saul shook his head with a crooked smile. “You can’t lie worth a damn.” He sniffed and then widened his eyes in sarcasm before easing into a calm expression again. “Well, should I forgive him?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  He went quiet for a moment. “Is there something taped to the bottom of my boot? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know if it was real or not.” His features strained with agony. “But if it’s not, that means I’m crazy. Look for me.”

  Greyson glanced down at the soles of Saul’s boots. A patch was held in place on the bottom of one boot with duct tape on the edges of the fabric. “You’ve got a patch there.”

  Saul gaped at him. “You see it?”

  “Yeah, it says ‘Filthy Wanderers MC.’”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not crazy. After I escaped, everyone said that motorcycle club never existed, but I always knew it did. I was with them for years.” His hooded eyes were downcast. “I lied about one part. The preacher never begged me for his life. When I went there to kill him he looked me in the eye and said he’d do it all again.” He sniffled. “I couldn’t make him afraid. Just before I killed him he said I’d never be free of him even after he was gone.”

  “He was wrong.”

  Saul coughed a little and struggled to breathe. “I read somewhere that there were different levels of hell, like for the different degrees of sin. Do you think that’s true?”

  Greyson knelt in front of him. “I don’t believe in hell.”

  “I’m not sure.” Saul stared into space before a wild look of terror dilated his pupils and he looked at Greyson in desperation. He grabbed Greyson by the shirt, making him flinch. “I can face hell, but I can’t face him again. I killed him. He’ll hurt me worse this time. Tell me…I’ll be on…a different level than him.”

  Greyson looked into the man’s fearful, pleading eyes and recognized someone from the past—someone who had begged for his life. All this man wanted was peace.

  “They say the deepest level of hell is reserved for the devil and those who betrayed people close to them,” Greyson said quietly. “The man who hurt you made you trust him and then broke that trust. He’ll be down there with the devil, but you won’t be. You’ll be on a different level. Mel will never hurt you again.”

  Saul shook and his green eyes misted, lips trembling. “How did you know his name was Mel?”

  “Melanie said you always called her L.D. The only times you ever called her Mel was when you were in the bedroom or you were mentally in a dark place and hurting her. If figured there had to be a reason for it. I lied about the pills, but I wasn’t lying when I said I understand you.”

  The tears fell from Saul’s lidded eyes. When he opened them, he gave Greyson a small smile and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Greyson forced a smile and watched the man breathe his last. When Saul didn’t blink, Greyson closed his eyes for him.

  He wandered outside on shaking legs and then fell to his knees in the rain, breathing hard and quaking violently. The splash splattered on his clothes and the puddle drenched the knees of his jeans, but he didn’t care. It was over. It was finally over.

  Chapter Twelve

  They just held her. Mellie cried in their arms and kept apologizing profusely for leaving. Hunter and Jake forgave her instantly.

  Emmett was stern with her for all of thirty seconds before pulling her into a life-sucking hug and melting with tenderness for her.

  Diego gave her one of his Dom looks and then pulled her into a gentle, reassuring embrace in his strong arms.

  Greyson didn’t say a word to her except to ask her if she was all right. He hid in his study alone for hours before heading up to bed by himself.

  When it was just her and four of her cowboys downstairs, Mellie felt relief and awkwardness come over her. She had a feeling it was discipline time, but she knew she deserved it. Hopefully it was being confined to home for a week or a few painful whacks on the booty. No sex or orgasms for a while would be depressing. She needed to feel close to them again after having almost left, and she got the feeling that her men needed that sense of closeness and bonding with her, too.

  Diego looked at her seriously. “You know you deserve to be punished for lying to Jake, for putting your life in danger and Greyson’s life in danger?”

  She hung her head. “I know, Master.”

  The quiet that fell between them was loud and smothering.

  “I’m not going to discipline you, Melanie.”

  Her ears perked and she lifted her head. He didn’t say why he decided to be lenient with her this time, but it might have had something to do with the fact that they almost lost her earlier and her remorse for her actions was obvious.

  “You should go reconcile with Greyson,” Diego advised.

  Her spirit fell. “I’m worried he won’t forgive me, Master.”

  “He will, in time. You should endeavor to make amends with him to let him know you care.”

  She nodded, pursing her lips. It would be difficult enough without the impulse to start blubbering at the thought of Greyson never forgiving her.

  “Leave your clothes here,” Diego said.

  Jake grinned. “Nice.”

  Emmett smirked.

  Hunter smiled. “He means it in a Dom/sub way, Jake.”

  Jake still grinned and gave an unconvincing nod. “Yeah, that’s how I see it, too.”

  Diego cracked a half smile, but his eyes remained on Melanie.

  She stripped, feeling exposed when she was bare but still beautiful beneath their appreciative, hormone-driven gazes. The love that accompanied the lust made her feel cherished.

  Mellie went upstairs, trembling when she stood at Greyson’s closed bedroom door. What if he didn’t let her in?

  What if he did?

  She knocked. The pause was torturous.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Melanie.”

  Another break in speech that strangled whatever feeble level of courage she’d been grasping at.

  “Come in.”

  She entered and closed the door behind her. There was no light in his eyes when he saw her. He looked crushed and it killed her. The discreet sweep of her undressed body with his eyes and the bulge that resulted in his jeans gave her hope.

  Drawing a deep breath, she walked across the large room and came to rest on her knees in front of him. She didn’t assume any of the positions her Doms taught her. This distance between them didn’t feel like it could be bridged by submission or pretending that they were okay. She knew she needed to give him more and be real with hi
m before they could hope to resume their roles.

  Greyson sat in his chair in silence. God, she wished he would take the lead like he always did and talk first. When the quiet became too much, too oppressive, she fell forward on her arms and knees and wept at his feet. It probably looked pathetic, she imagined, but knowing him he’d probably love every minute of it.

  Then again, he seemed so wounded and shattered by what she’d done, angry even, she feared her tears and groveling might not be enough for him. It had been for her other men, even for Diego. Hell, Hunter and Jake hadn’t even given her a chance to apologize before lavishing hugs and kisses on her.

  Greyson had trouble letting things go she’d been told.

  He didn’t reach for her while her tears fell onto his skin, but he didn’t pull away either when she began kissing and nuzzling his bare feet. They smelled like clean, manly man soap, and his hair was still a bit damp like he’d gotten out of the shower a little bit ago. He’d changed into clothes, though, instead of getting ready for bed. She prayed he wasn’t planning on leaving or staying away for a while.

  “Why are you crying, Melanie?” There was no inflection in the question, nor any lack of knowledge in his monotone words.

  She lifted her head and remained on the floor, scooting to sit between his slightly splayed thighs. Placing her hands on his denim-clad legs, she rubbed them in loving strokes. The touch was devoid of naughtiness, for as hot as he was and as much as she craved him and his body. Her desperate petting felt more like she clawed and ached for his barricaded feelings so she could heal the bleeding heart that lay beneath.

  “Because I hurt you and it kills me. I really wasn’t leaving.”

  His gaze drifted downward, though he kept his head in the same spot. “You were several miles outside of McKenna Downs. That’s why you lied to Jake—so you could get away from us and this prison we made for you.”

  The rancorous edge in his tone and choice of words stung. She’d hurt him bad. Grasping his legs, she looked up at him in earnest, hoping he could detect the depth of her sincerity. “Not prison. It’s heaven. I love it here and all of you so much.”