Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (10 page)

Of all my manipulations to take down Tucker, she has been my favorite.  It’s a shame she has to be a part of this and I’ll lose her.  I’ve thought through every scenario that would allow her to stay in my life, but there are none.  She’s a casualty.

A great fuck.  That’s how I have to keep seeing her.

Back and forth, she pushes on my cock, trying to milk my juices from me.  Her moans and cries intensify as I hit her spot with each inward thrust.  She’s so close.  I can feel her body tensing and muscles contracting around me.  A few more pumps and she’ll fall over the edge into sexual nirvana.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Finally, the prodigal son returns.

I don’t bother to see what Vic’s reaction to Tucker being here is.  I simply stand up with a smirk on my face, stare him in the eye, knowing he can finally see how I despise him, and zip my pants.  I walk by him, slightly bumping him as I go, enjoying the crowd of crew members who have gathered to watch the fall of the once proud king of the castle.  The whispering as I walk by only makes me smile bigger.  Let them talk.  They all know the truth.

I took what was Tucker’s.

I hear Tucker screaming at Vic.  I start to go back and stick up for her, but then I hear her begging him to let her stay.  Stupid girl.  You just sealed your fate.  If ever I would have thought to change my mind and find a spot for you in my life, you just squashed that chance.

Tucker’s rant makes my heart swell with joy.  I can hear the pain in his words and I feel a sense of redemption.  He has owed me for so very long.

This is just the beginning.

Chapter Nine

Grant—Twenty Two Years Old

Tucker disappeared the day of the “altercation”.  That’s what the crew has been calling it.  I’ve gone out for drinks with a few of them and no one wants to ask me how long I’ve been fucking Tucker’s woman.  When they bring up his name, they just say no one has heard from him.

I stay quiet and listen, trying to act like I feel bad for running everyone’s favorite out of town, but seriously, I’m fucking thrilled.  Knowing he’s miserable makes me want to get up and dance the Irish Jig on the damn bar and buy a round of drinks for everybody.  It’s ironic that they think I’m a cool guy and Vic is a cheating whore.  Everyone is ready to crucify the “no talent bitch” that used Tucker to get her foot in the door and then betrayed him the first chance she got.  Little do they know, I worked every weakness and vulnerability I could and Tucker is no fucking saint.

I’ve been avoiding Victoria’s phone calls and texts.  I figure, after a few more days, she’ll get the message that she’s been used and find someone new to latch onto.  Tucker will never be what she needs.  I don’t say that because I hate him.  I say it because they aren’t compatible.  They don’t talk to each other…about anything.  They share an apartment, but live separate lives.  Their break up was inevitable.  I guess, in a way, I helped them.

Someday, Tucker may even thank me.

So lost in my thoughts of Tucker’s spiral, I’m not sure I hear things correctly, but the knock comes again.  I know I didn’t get a call from the concierge that someone was coming up.  I throw on a pair of boxer briefs and head for the door.  Through the peephole, I see Vic.

What was I just thinking about her realizing she’d been used?

I open the door a sliver and confused brown eyes stare at me.  They open even more round at the site of my present state of dress and as much as she wants me to explain things to her, that isn’t going to happen.  She needs to go away.  I need to effectively end this now.

I can tell she wants to come in, but I don’t budge from my spot or offer her entrance.  Hurt creeps into her eyes.

“Had a really bad morning, Grant.  I needed to see you.”

I’m sure she had a bad morning.  Davyd told me they’re killing her off the show.  Right after he brutalized my body.  I thought I was done dealing with him, but he let me know there is more information to come and it involves me, so I better keep playing nice.

“Now isn’t a good time, Vic.  How did you get up here?”  If I sound pissed, it’s because I am.  I goddamn told Benny not to let anyone up.  That’s what fucking
Do Not Disturb
means.  Wait until I get my hands on that little bastard.  “Didn’t Benny tell you I wasn’t to be disturbed?”

She falters.  Her breath visibly hitches and I see her confidence waver.  Maybe she’s finally getting it.  I start to slide my hand across the door, thinking this is over.

“Grant?”  Her voice is questioning and her eyes have misted over.

Oh, mother of fucking Christ.  What does she fucking want from me?

“Victoria,” I snap at her, harshly.

Her spine stiffens and a temper I didn’t know she had comes flaring to life.  Ooh, I think I could like this Victoria.  Where the hell has she been hiding?

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?  Last week you tell me you love me and now you aren’t talking to me or inviting me in.  What’s the deal?”

Her hands on her hips, head flying with her words, she delivers that little speech and all I can think is,
is she yanking my balls?
  I laugh.  How pathetic is she?  I blow her off for days after leaving her to face the fallout alone and here she is, begging me to love her.  I don’t even know what to do with that.  I’ve heard of stage five clingers, but she may have taken this to a whole new level of crazy town.  How broken do you have to be to come back for more?

“Wow.  You actually believed I loved you?”  I laugh again and damn it feels good to let it out.  I’ve been living with so much shit in my life, the humor of this situation has me almost giddy.  It’s short lived, though.  I have a job to do.  I need her to get the message, which is I don’t want her.

Directing my nastiest sneer at her, I say, “Do you think I could love a slut like you?  Really, Victoria?  Or should I say, Bitchtoria?  The tabloids pegged you right on that one.”

“Why?”  Her voice is weak and squeaky, like a mouse under a boot.

I can’t stand the whining and the pleading any longer and for a minute, I lose sight of my end game.  I allow myself to say something I’ve wanted to say for a long time.  “You still don’t get it?  It was all about Tucker, that arrogant bastard.  He thinks he’s better than me.  He thinks he is the king of the show.  I showed him.  I took what was his and showed everyone I made you mine while he crumbled at their feet.  Oh, how the mighty fall.”  

Her startled look makes me feel strong.  Then it dawns on her.  She was a pawn, a piece in a game.  She’s seeing she never meant anything to me and she wants to cause me pain.  I can envision her using me as a scratching post.

Bring it on, kitty.

“Tucker is so much more of a man than you are,” she hurls at me.  “You couldn’t fill one of his shoes!”

Ouch!  Is that the best insult you have?  Let me show you how they really work, princess.

“Ha!” I laugh again, completely amused by her.  “I filled a lot more than that and a hell of a lot more than once, sweetheart.” 
Bazinga!  “
It was so easy to convince you I loved you.  Guess you know how good of an actor I am now.”

Her face pales and I can’t stop the smug smile from stretching my face.

“You disgust me, Grant!”  She turns and starts to walk away.

Finally.

“Grant, are you coming back to bed?”

The timing couldn’t be more perfect.  I had forgotten about my drunken mistake from the night before.

Victoria stops dead in her tracks.  Without seeing her face, I can see the wheels in her mind going a million miles a second.  Her pride is telling her to run for the elevator, but her heart, the heart that fell in love with me, has to know who the hell is in here with me.  It can’t believe I would move on that fast.  You know what they say, the heart gets what the heart wants.

I allow the door to open as arms snake around my waist and Vic slowly turns to face us.  The air leaves her on a gasp.  Her eyes travel over Mel in my t-shirt, her hair disheveled from sleep and the sound fucking I gave her.

“Hey, Mel.  Did you sleep well?” I ask, pretending to give a shit.  I place a kiss to the top of her head, looking straight into Vic’s eyes while I do it.

I watch her eyes go cold.  Not just cold, but void.  That little niche in my heart starts throbbing and I will it to stop.  I hate that she occupied any part of my emotions and I can’t afford to feel bad now.  What’s done is done.  I knew what the outcome would be and I’m willing to live with it.

I blink a few times, focusing on the black behind my eyes.  Every closing of my eyes brings me a sense of calm, a righting of my mind, until I’m back to not caring that I just crushed Victoria.

She still stands before us, eyeing us, unable to say anything or move.  I allow her to stare, let her brain process all the pain so she won’t come back.  I want her to hate me.

“Grant, what’s the hold up?” Mel asks, looking up at me with eyes that say she’s ready for round two.

“Nothing’s holding him up anymore, Mel,” Vic says before I can get a word out.  The snip in her tone shocks and pleases me.  This is the fighter I was hoping she would find in herself.  “He’s all yours.  Word to the wise, woman to woman, he’s an actor, as he just told me. It’s easy for him to convince women he loves them.  So, unless you only want to get fucked, I’d look somewhere else.  If that’s all you want, then you’re in the right place.  Grant is always up for a good time, as I can see you’ve figured out.”

She eyes Mel up and down like she’s a slut, even though Vic was the one who had been sleeping with two men.  Funny how we forget our own sins when we’re hurt.  Her eyes come back to mine as I’m pulling Mel back into my place and closing the door.  She holds my gaze the entire time.

I have a new respect for her and her need to show me she won’t back down 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 feelings for each other.  I despise him and every time he lays a finger on me.

“What is it, Davyd?” I ask, clearly annoyed.