to me or show me her pain. She just might be okay after all.
Someone once told me, from life’s heartaches come the strongest people. I think Victoria is going to prove that saying to me and I’m going to love watching her.
“Want to tell me what that was about, Grant?”
I turn to see Mel with her hand on her hips.
Oh, hell no!
She and I agreed from day one we would sleep with whoever we wanted. I owe her no explanations or apologies. She can wipe that jilted lover look right off her face.
“No.”
“No? What do you mean…no?”
“Just what I said, Mel. We had an agreement and the fact that you’re questioning it now means we’re done. Get your clothes on, leave my t-shirt and get out. I’m going to take a shower.”
“But you—”
“There are no buts. We had a deal. You just broke it. It’s simple, sweetheart. Get your stuff and get the fuck out.”
I walk away as she starts to cry.
Seriously, why do women do that? Do they think it’s going to make us turn around and say we’re sorry? Are we suddenly supposed to turn our feelings back on? Crying just makes us want to get further away from you.
Learn that. Crying is bad. Makes men run—not walk—away from you.
Chapter Ten
Grant—Twenty Two Years Old
My cell beeps and I grab for it, wondering who the hell is texting me at seven in the damn morning.
Davyd: Shower & let Benny know I’ll be there in an hour. We need to talk!
Dread fills me. I can’t help but wonder if talk is code word for what he plans to do to me. I run for the bathroom and throw up the bile that has risen from fear.
With a raw throat, sore from the repeated dry heaving, I drag myself into the shower. Davyd will not be happy if I’m not clean. He has no tolerance for me not smelling “just from the shower, fresh”.
I don’t bother with breakfast. My stomach is in too many knots. I just grab a glass of water to sip. Over and over, I turn the glass in my hands, hoping to alleviate some of the tension. My mind goes through a myriad of excuses I can use to keep Davyd from touching me, but I know none of them will work. What Davyd wants, he gets.
When did I give up my power to him? When did I lose control of the situation?
It’s when he saw through me. He’s the only one who has been smarter than me. He knows my thoughts before I think them. Everyone else thinks I’m a nice guy, but he sees me for the asshole I am, sees the evil lurking within me.
And he’s using it against me.
When the knock sounds at the door, I jump, almost dropping my glass. “Get your shit together, Grant. Do not show him any weakness,” I tell myself as I put my glass down and walk toward the door. I think of the tattoo on my shoulder. Mercy is for the weak.
Davyd found my weakness and he has shown me no mercy. The irony is not lost on me.
His smirk greets me as soon as I open the door. My insides roll at the desire I see in his dark stare. His want penetrates my gut like I’ve been hit with a wrecking ball. I want to run back to the bathroom and deplete my stomach of the lack of content within. I never feel as hollow as I do when Davyd is around.
As always, he walks in without waiting for me to invite him.
Irritated, I close the door and follow him back to the living room.
“Information or payment first?”
I see he’s wasting no time today. I want to say neither, but I wonder if the information he has will be that piece that finally allows me to drop Tucker to his knees.
“Information,” I say blandly. I know better than to let him get his payment first. He will dangle bits and pieces of what he knows and demand more payment. He’s a sadistic bastard.
“You may want to sit down for this one, lover.”
I roll my shoulders, the weight of the situation resting heavily. I fucking hate when he calls me that. It’s a term that should be reserved for people who have mutual
Someone once told me, from life’s heartaches come the strongest people. I think Victoria is going to prove that saying to me and I’m going to love watching her.
“Want to tell me what that was about, Grant?”
I turn to see Mel with her hand on her hips.
Oh, hell no!
She and I agreed from day one we would sleep with whoever we wanted. I owe her no explanations or apologies. She can wipe that jilted lover look right off her face.
“No.”
“No? What do you mean…no?”
“Just what I said, Mel. We had an agreement and the fact that you’re questioning it now means we’re done. Get your clothes on, leave my t-shirt and get out. I’m going to take a shower.”
“But you—”
“There are no buts. We had a deal. You just broke it. It’s simple, sweetheart. Get your stuff and get the fuck out.”
I walk away as she starts to cry.
Seriously, why do women do that? Do they think it’s going to make us turn around and say we’re sorry? Are we suddenly supposed to turn our feelings back on? Crying just makes us want to get further away from you.
Learn that. Crying is bad. Makes men run—not walk—away from you.
Chapter Ten
Grant—Twenty Two Years Old
My cell beeps and I grab for it, wondering who the hell is texting me at seven in the damn morning.
Davyd: Shower & let Benny know I’ll be there in an hour. We need to talk!
Dread fills me. I can’t help but wonder if talk is code word for what he plans to do to me. I run for the bathroom and throw up the bile that has risen from fear.
With a raw throat, sore from the repeated dry heaving, I drag myself into the shower. Davyd will not be happy if I’m not clean. He has no tolerance for me not smelling “just from the shower, fresh”.
I don’t bother with breakfast. My stomach is in too many knots. I just grab a glass of water to sip. Over and over, I turn the glass in my hands, hoping to alleviate some of the tension. My mind goes through a myriad of excuses I can use to keep Davyd from touching me, but I know none of them will work. What Davyd wants, he gets.
When did I give up my power to him? When did I lose control of the situation?
It’s when he saw through me. He’s the only one who has been smarter than me. He knows my thoughts before I think them. Everyone else thinks I’m a nice guy, but he sees me for the asshole I am, sees the evil lurking within me.
And he’s using it against me.
When the knock sounds at the door, I jump, almost dropping my glass. “Get your shit together, Grant. Do not show him any weakness,” I tell myself as I put my glass down and walk toward the door. I think of the tattoo on my shoulder. Mercy is for the weak.
Davyd found my weakness and he has shown me no mercy. The irony is not lost on me.
His smirk greets me as soon as I open the door. My insides roll at the desire I see in his dark stare. His want penetrates my gut like I’ve been hit with a wrecking ball. I want to run back to the bathroom and deplete my stomach of the lack of content within. I never feel as hollow as I do when Davyd is around.
As always, he walks in without waiting for me to invite him.
Irritated, I close the door and follow him back to the living room.
“Information or payment first?”
I see he’s wasting no time today. I want to say neither, but I wonder if the information he has will be that piece that finally allows me to drop Tucker to his knees.
“Information,” I say blandly. I know better than to let him get his payment first. He will dangle bits and pieces of what he knows and demand more payment. He’s a sadistic bastard.
“You may want to sit down for this one, lover.”
I roll my shoulders, the weight of the situation resting heavily. I fucking hate when he calls me that. It’s a term that should be reserved for people who have mutual
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