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I shrug. “Good people live here. Neighbors who still act like neighbors.”
“You’re a lucky man to have this many wonderful people in your life,” she says, a whimsical smile on her face.
“No argument.” As we start walking to the house, I broach a subject I’ve been putting off too long. “So, after Bruce is settled in Wyoming and this FBI crap ends, I was thinking...if you’ve got no other plans, you’re welcome to come back here and stay till you—”
“No! Oh, I mean, I...I can’t do that. But thanks. Thank you, Grady. I just have to get home and figure out...well, everything.” She flushes, never meeting my eyes, and increases the speed of her walk. “Granny’s leaving. I want to say goodbye.”
I don’t even follow her into the house.
I just stand there, gutted, watching her disappear inside, feeling like a boulder just dropped on my head.
19
Ride the Tiger (Willow)
I’ve had rough nights, where my mind just won’t shut off, but last night was a bottomless freaking abyss.
I wake up with my pillow soaked and my eyes sore.
After everyone left yesterday, Grady and I avoided each other—there’s no nice way to put it—and the mood lingers the next morning.
We’re both like hurt, fragile things.
Every soft kiss and urgent moan we ever shared feels like it’s been stolen, my heart murdered and dragged out of reach, cast out of this strange temporary paradise we shared.
Foolish?
Absolutely.
I knew from day one I’d only be here for shelter. Even on our hottest nights, when we spent so much time locked in fevered kisses and hushed cries, I never stopped planning my post-Grady life.
Now try telling my heart that.
I’m so torn about leaving I can barely slug down a cup of coffee, looking away every time he’s in the room. Trying and failing to hide the redness in my eyes.
For the first time in my life, my sadness, my worry, my loss has nothing to do with big cats, much less my own future.
It’s losing the present, everything I was never meant to share with this rock of a man.
Don’t get me wrong.
I still want to work with exotic animals and pursue my dream. I’m just wondering if I’ve been wrong in thinking that’s all I ever wanted.
Living here has shown me what I was missing by not having a big family, never being truly connected to a loving community.
This swift detour through madness also revealed what it’s like to fall in love.
Before Grady McKnight, I was clueless.
Sure, I know what love is with Bruce, with Dad, with family...
But with the big tall drink of growliness who’s still messing up my head?
Love is a whimper of pain.
A heart rending in half.
A brief, all-devouring passion that whispers false promises and turns hearts to salt.
All because love is also this sharp, jagged shape that just won’t fit into the neat round hole of my life, and our love is so twisted and unexpected and impossible it can’t squeeze into Grady’s life-mold, either.
At the sound of the front door opening and banging shut, I squeeze my eyes closed, holding back another flood of liquid misery.
After last night, you’d think the well would’ve had to run dry.
Nope!
Lucky me.
I’m smoothing out the last picture Avery drew for me, the one she said I could take. It’s almost identical to the drawing hanging on the fridge with the four of us and Bruce.
I tuck the lovely memento away in a notebook, close my bag, and zip it shut.
Yes, I’ve already put the letters I wrote to each girl in their bedrooms.
The one I’ve penned for Grady is resting on my pillow, together with my tiger-striped bracelet in gold and onyx.
The bracelet is decently valuable, and once I’m able to access my bank account, I’ll send him cash instead. Faulk advised me not to use my credit or debit cards until they’re cleared for use by the FBI.
Call it collateral because that’s better than what it really is.
A splintered, sad fragment of my heart that will always belong to him. The bracelet just gives it substance.
“Weston’s here.”
At the sound of Grady’s voice, I draw in a deep breath to ease the erratic pounding of my heart, then pick up my bag and turn around.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
It’s early, dawn is barely breaking, and the number of vehicles in the driveway is a bit overwhelming. I still can’t get over how many willing and able-bodied people turned out.
No, not just willing.
Actual heroes.
“How should we get Bruce in the trailer?” Grady asks. “The new ride’s too tall to back into the barn.”
His gaze is like a sweet brown honey I’ll never taste again.
I thought about the move this morning while feeding Bruce, and decided the easiest way would be for me to just lead him. “I’ll use a leash.”
“A leash?” His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re shitting me, right?”
