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“Well, honesty isn’t a negative trait,” I snap. “Despite how underwhelming you find me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His face jerks to mine. “You have no idea how I find you.”
“Oh please,” I scoff and look away, terrified he’ll see the tears beginning to pool in my eyes. “Pussy is pussy. That was pretty fucking clear.”
“Liv.” I feel his entire body deflate beside me. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it.”
“You don’t have to lie, Grant.” I look over him now, letting him see the hurt. “You have been cold since the moment I came back. It’s okay, I didn’t even know what to expect when I sought you guys out. You don’t have to be happy I’m back.”
“No.” He angles his body toward mine. “You really don’t understand. I am happy, I’m fucking ecstatic that you are back with us. There’s just some other stuff.” His warm hand lands on my thigh and squeezes.
I freeze, well aware that my panties are probably still damp with arousal from the memories I was just thinking back on. I can’t help but wish his hand was just a little bit higher, but I also treasure what little dignity I still have. I’m not going to beg for anything from someone determined to push me away.
“It’s fine. I’m not here to ingratiate myself into your life. We’re adults, right? We can be coolly pleasant to one another when we’re together.”
He grabs my hand and drags me from the booth aggressively. I try to shake off his grip, but he turns and looks back at me with fire raging in his eyes.
“Stop fighting me.” His voice is barely controlled, and his eyes are passionately inflamed.
He tugs me through a door that says ‘Staff Only’. We walk down a hallway passing dressing rooms and into a stairwell. He goes up, nodding curtly at a man walking down but not stopping to address him.
Two seconds later, we’re in an office with his name on the door. He slams it closed behind me and locks it. I should be scared as he stalks toward me like a predator. He pursues me across the office until my back hits the cool class of a window.
“I don’t want to be ‘coolly pleasant’ to you. You don’t get it.” He stands in front of me, his control within an inch of breaking. His arms cage me in on either side.
“You’re right. I don’t.” I fling my hands out to the side in frustration. “Why don’t you clue me in instead of treating me like an irritation one minute and looking at me like you could eat me the next? It’s fucking exhausting, Grant, and I don’t have that much energy to expend for games.”
“You’re going to hate me.” He drops his forehead to mine, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“Grant,” I bend, so he’s forced to look at me, “I could never. Even at my most confused and hurt and angry, I could never hate you. Just like I couldn’t hate Nolan, Lake, or Sawyer.”
“Yeah.” He pulls away and laughs bitterly as he sits on his desk. “Don’t say that until you hear the truth.”
“Tell me, then,” I say as I wrap my arms around my stomach.
He puts his face in his palms and nods while taking a few deep breaths. “I’m the reason you met Tripp. I brought him over to the apartment and that’s how he found you.”
“Grant.” I step between his knees. “I’m well aware of how I met Tripp. I fail to see how that is some earth-shattering revelation.”
“I pushed you together. I was jealous and insecure of the changing dynamics of the group. I could sense Nolan getting territorial over you. I didn’t want a crack to form in our friendship.”
“I don’t hate you for that.”
“I knew he was a shitty guy, Liv. I grew up spending time at his house in California. He always talked about women in a negative and psychotic way. I shouldn’t have encouraged his interest in you.”
“Did you know he was going to abuse me?” I ask running my hands up and down his firm thighs. “Did you know he was going to rape me?”
“Of course not.” He puts his hands over mine. “But it doesn’t make me any less responsible, does it? Every tear he made fall, every bruise he gave you, every time he,” a tortured sob tears from his chest, “every time he raped you, it might as well have been me. I didn’t protect you. I’m just as bad as he is. Worse even.”
His shoulders jerk up and down as he cries. I put my hand on his cheek and try to wipe a tear away, but he shoos me away.
“Don’t try to comfort me. I don’t deserve it. When I saw those bruises on your body I wanted to die. I wanted to rage. I wanted to murder Tripp. Do you understand? I want to torture him. I want to watch him bleed and cling to life. I want to kill him with my own hands and watch the life drain from him. And I know how to do it. All four of us do. We’ve killed. Did you know that?”
His face is hard when he looks up. “We’re not the good men you think we are. We’re dangerous. We’re criminals. We’re ruthless. Lake kills all the time. Nolan does almost as often. Sawyer and I have stolen money. Sure, we had our reasons—good reasons—but it doesn’t change the fact that we did it. We don’t lose sleep about it either.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he parrots.
