Bound (Bound Duet Book 1) Page 14

  But the struggle for me remained, our lives were on different paths that I needed to merge back together. He went to clubs I wasn’t interested in, and I was always busy anyhow, so I couldn’t deny him finding something to entertain himself, but it was the same routine each time. If Gray wasn’t getting what he wanted or needed, he escaped to a bar. I wanted to tell him to stop the temper tantrums and deal with life like an adult, but I never opened my mouth. It sucked that he’d asked me to relieve myself of the heavy workload and then essentially bailed on me when the summer was over. It was the first time I’d realized he wasn’t happy when I was so busy he couldn’t see me, but he wasn’t happy when I had free time and expected him to spend his with me, either. He seemed to want the best of both worlds—the committed relationship when it suited him and the bachelor life when it didn’t. I was hopeful this weekend I’d see his devotion to our relationship and the rest would work out with time.

  I sang every song that came through the speakers. Luckily, Gray thought I had a beautiful voice because I hadn’t taken a breath during the entire ride through the mountains. In between songs, I couldn’t help but comment on the colors of the trees or what we would do when we got there. I was sure he thought I was off my rocker—I doubted he’d ever seen me this carefree.

  Once we got into town, he followed the directions he was given by the owner of the little chateau. When we pulled into the driveway that seemed to hang off the side of the mountain, I couldn’t help but squeal. “Oh my gosh, Gray! Look how cute it is. And the view—it’s breathtaking!” The small, dark-brown A-frame with a solid glass back looked out over the snow-covered valley that seemed to go on for miles.

  I hopped out of the truck as Gray grabbed our bags from the backseat. I was careful not to bust my tail on the ice as I skipped to the front door before I turned and found an enormous grin on his face. With my hand outstretched, I indicated my need for a key. He looked down to his pocket, silently inviting me to find it. Digging my hands into his jeans, I brushed his dick, but I disregarded it to open the door.

  We had walked into a veritable love nest. The floor plan was open with the kitchen blending into the dining space that ran right into the living room. Finished wood walls gave the interior a lived-in feel with comfy, modern furniture. There was a door off to the left, which I assumed to be the one bedroom in the chateau. Gray headed in that direction and dumped our bags on the bed. I, however, was in awe of the view. I was raised in the Rockies, and the Smokey Mountains paled in comparison, but they brought some level of familiarity to me—peace I hadn’t felt in ages. My shoulders relaxed, my lungs expanded, and my heart filled—the air was thinner, lighter, and the sky bluer. The blanket of white issued a calm that was impossible to ignore—it was untouched and serene.

  He came to me as I continued to stare out the glass wall on the back of the house. His arms wrapped around mine from behind. “You want to go see the town?” I turned to face him, kissed him sweetly, and affirmed with a nod of my head.

  We went to the aquarium, Ripley’s Museum, rode the Sky Lift, and I’m pretty sure we went to every store in the city limits. We topped off our day doing one of those old-time photo sessions where you dressed up in clothes from the Old West, and they provided you with sepia photographs that cost a small fortune. It was fun, but I think Gray might cut me off if I ever showed them to anyone.

  Sometime during the weekend, I had determined I loved salt-water taffy, especially when I could watch it be made and then handpick my own assortment while it was still warm. I’d probably put down ten pounds of the sugary goodness in two days. Gray continuously made fun of me and laughed at my newfound confectionary love; that was until it made me physically ill. I’d thrown up off and on for about twenty-four hours. He was relentless in his pursuit for me to seek medical treatment, but all a doctor would tell me was to lay off the taffy. There was nothing wrong with me other than I was overeating, and it was pure junk.

  We spent our final day in the little cottage adoring each other in the bed, on the couch, the dining room table, the hot tub on the deck, and any other surface we could find. Nestled in the king-size bed, we slept tangled up in each other and talked for hours while wrapped in each other’s arms. The plan had been to go to one of the pancake houses, which adorned every street corner, for breakfast before going home. Progressing through town, I couldn’t help but notice the adorable wedding chapels that were just as plentiful as the breakfast eateries—we had to have passed twenty of them. This town’s tourist revenue must’ve derived from weddings and breakfast, because every time I blinked, there was another chapel. We ended up sitting right next to one at a red light. I gazed over at Gray, awestruck. “Look how pretty it is. I’d love to get married there.”

  “Forget it, Annie. I’m not interested in marrying you or anyone else,” he snapped at me, effectively ruining what had been three of the best days of our entire relationship in two short sentences. I wasn’t insinuating I wanted to get married today, but if I ever did, that would have been something I liked. I didn’t bother to respond vocally but fought to keep the tears from falling and hoped he didn’t see the rigid swallow I’d tried so hard to conceal.

  He tried to explain, “Annie, I—” but I effectively silenced him with my hand and shook my head.

  “No need, Gray. I understand.” He’d made his point perfectly clear and ensured it would never be a topic to broach my lips again—not with him.

  We ate in silence before he drove the three hours back home the same way. He knew he’d hurt my feelings, but somehow making his view of marriage painfully clear was more important. I had gotten it—he was not in the market to be a husband. Duly noted.

  When we got back to the apartment, I emptied my bag, started a load of laundry, and changed clothes. Walking past Gray standing in the kitchen, I muttered, “I’m going for a walk.”

  He grabbed my wrist. “Annie, please let me explain.” I looked up at him with eyes so solemn I hoped it hurt him to the core.

  “There’s nothing to explain, Gray. I understand. I really do.” Then, I walked out the door.

  Chapter Seven

  Gatlinburg brought change—a lot of it. I went for a walk that day, but I did more than just stroll. I spent hours thinking about Gray and the direction of our relationship. I’d sat in the park in our apartment complex on the swings, staring at the sky, kicking my feet to sway back and forth. His response disappointed me, and as much as I wanted to tell myself I wasn’t talking about getting married to him, or at least not right away, that was a lie. The comment had slipped out, but if I was honest with myself, I was fishing to see where he thought we were going. I got my answer loud and clear—it just wasn’t the answer I had been hoping for. I didn’t think he would pull the truck into the parking lot and suggest we go rushing in, but I guess I hoped he would have smiled and said, “when the time is right we can do whatever you want,” or something…anything other than what he had. The only conclusion I came to that afternoon was I had to protect my heart and see what happened. I was becoming proficient at the games Gray Dearsley liked to play.

  The distance I’d felt before our trip, the one that seemed rectifiable with a little quality time, became monumental. The court finalized his divorce shortly after we returned, but instead of it bringing us closer, it increased the emotional miles between us. Something that should have been monumentally positive in our relationship had slid by virtually unnoticed, except Gray had gone out about every night of the week with the guys from work. The day the ink dried on the documents Gray took a giant leap back in time—suddenly behaving like an eighteen-year-old who just moved out of his parents’ house instead of the almost thirty years he was pushing.

  He came home later and later, and usually, piss drunk. By the time he stumbled through the door, I was typically in bed asleep. Frequently, I’d wake up with him between my legs fucking me or sitting on my chest wanting me to suck his dick. It brought back memories of Will and his need to drown his sorrow in
my body, using me to make himself feel better—even if I hadn’t wanted to be used. I’d let him do it, the same way I’d let Gray, hoping it proved something to them about my loyalty and love. In some twisted, fucked-up way, it made sense in my mind. He wasn’t the man I loved at night, but in the morning, he was the Gray he’d always been, loving on me, kissing me, taking his time with my body. But by the time I got home from work, he was always gone. Every once in a while, he’d bring friends home with him, who’d pass out in our living room and then hang around far too long in the morning. The sheer level of disrespect he’d showed me was frightening. I should have been taking note, but I was too busy trying to hold on.

  A few weeks later, some random guy named Kevin came home with him. I heard them come in, but Gray never made it to bed, and I didn’t bother to go in search of him. I woke again, finding myself encased in darkness and sleep still clung to my eyes when I got up to go to the bathroom. He was on the floor in our bedroom fully clothed, passed out. He was drunk and too heavy for me to move, so I left him lying face down on the carpet and his heavy boots still on his feet. Unbeknownst to me, his friend still lingered in our living room drunk, on the couch. His introduction startled me, but he was apparently very aware of who I was. For whatever reason, his stare, the way he regarded me when he told me I deserved better than a shit like Gray, struck me as odd—cold, but honest. Here was his friend telling me my boyfriend didn’t value what he had waiting for him at home. I realized he was drunk, but there was something in his eyes I needed to pay careful attention to, but I didn’t respond. I returned to bed where I laid awake most of the night, staring into the darkness and listening to Gray’s phone ring over and over. Around three in the morning, I got tired of the incessant noise and dug it out of his pocket.

  On the last ring, I answered it before it went to voicemail. “Hello?” I said exasperatedly.

  “Um…hey. Is Gray there?” The female voice on the other end was unfamiliar, and no name showed up on the caller ID. She was clearly confused by my answering the phone but not half as confused as I was by her call.

  “He’s asleep. Do you need me to wake him up?” I didn’t hide my irritation well—this random girl on the other end of my boyfriend’s phone in the middle of the night, coupled with Kevin’s odd declaration about my worthiness, was like sandpaper against my heart.

  She giggled.

  The bitch fucking giggled.

  “Nah, tell him Casey called, and he left his wallet in my hotel room.” The call disconnected, and I stood there with the phone in my hand, flabbergasted. Her name was unfamiliar, and she didn’t work at the DC. The fear in the pit of my stomach warned me of exactly who the mystery girl was, but my heart refused to believe it. Between his friend’s cryptic warning and this call, I teetered on the edge of breaking. I’d tried to ignore the warning signs for weeks, but this was going to be hard to pretend never happened.

  My face was atrocious by the time Gray finally roused from his alcohol-induced coma. A sleepless night filled with tears had left my eyes a swollen mess and given me a migraine. Kevin left on his own accord sometime around seven. I had gotten up to lock the front door behind him and then sat waiting on Gray to grace me with his coherent presence. It was a struggle not to immediately attack him when I heard him rustling around in the bedroom, but I waited for him to shower. He needed to feel human before I confronted him.

  He looked refreshed toweling off his hair when he emerged. The moment his eyes caught mine, he launched into worry. “Annie, what’s wrong, baby? You look horrible.” The concern was genuine, the only bit I’d seen in months.

  “Who’s Casey, Gray?” I asked blankly. My eyes were dry, unable to shed another tear.

  “Huh?”

  “Who. Is. Casey?” I repeated the question, emphasizing each word to make sure he clearly understood me, in the same monotone I’d delivered the words initially.

  “Ugh, she’s a girl I went to high school with. Why? Did Kevin mention her?”

  “No, he didn’t. He had other interesting things to impart, but nothing about Casey.”

  “Then why are you asking about Casey?” The irritation in his tone pissed me off as did her name on his lips.

  “She called your phone last night—countless times. Around three, I finally answered it. I have to admit…I was more than a little shocked when she told me you’d left your wallet in her hotel room. She’d like for you to call her.” My voice never wavered, and my eyes never left his. He had yet to answer me, so I repeated my question one last time. “Who is Casey, Gray?”

  “I told you, she’s a girl I went to high school with. What’s with the interrogation, Annie?”

  For the first time since I’d met him, I couldn’t read the truth in his eyes, and I was uncertain if what I was witnessing was anger or guilt. If I were betting, it was the latter of the two.

  “Why were you in another woman’s hotel room?” My voice cracked, and at that moment, I had just lost the battle. The one time I’d tried to stand up to him, I faltered. My weakness showed through like a ray of light in the darkness. He knew he had me. The jealousy…the insecurity—he would pounce on my vulnerability to save his own ass.

  “Baby, there were a lot of people in her hotel room last night.” His features softened, as did his tone when he approached me.

  “Did you fuck her?” I asked point blank.

  “N-n-no.” He stuttered.

  I’d never known Gray ever to stammer over words. My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. He sat down next to me as the waterworks started again. There shouldn’t have been anything left—no one should cry this much over someone they loved, but I was powerless to stop it. I knew I should walk away, but I didn’t have the strength to. Gray drew me into his lap, securing his arms around mine, and my head dropped to the crook of his neck. I desperately wanted to believe him. I was too smart to buy his charade, but I wasn’t strong enough to call the game.

  “I love you, Annie. I’m not sleeping with other girls.”

  “Everything between us is off. I don’t know what to think anymore. You keep pushing me away, and now a random woman is calling you from a hotel.” My shoulders shook as I hiccupped. His hand lovingly stroked my hair, and he kissed the top of my head.

  His mellow tone of concern wooed me into a false sense of security. “Annie, I’m trying to figure out my life again. The divorce just finalized, and I finally have the freedom to do things most people do when they get out of high school, but I was sidled with a wife. Being able to spend time with my friends is something I haven’t done freely in years. You don’t like going to bars, so what do you want me to do? I come home every night…to you. Don’t I get any credit for that? We talk every day; we make love every day, multiple times a day. How could you imagine I’d be with anyone else?” He waited for my response.

  “You pulled away after Gatlinburg. I realize why, but it hurts, Gray. I imagine it has more to do with what you believe I want from you than you trying to figure out who you are.”

  His voice hardened at my admission—or hell, maybe it was an accusation. “I’m not going to fight with you. I’ve done that relationship, and I’m not doing it again. You either take me as I am or you don’t have me at all.” There was the ultimatum.

  I had asked for nothing but honesty, but there it was. Either I gave him free reign to do as he pleased without question, or he was done.

  “I understand, Gray.”

  Somehow, in less than five minutes and a handful of words, I’d lost myself. His happiness, or maybe just his freedom, was more important to me than my own, and he just confirmed it was to him as well. I’d do anything for this man, including sacrificing my dignity and self-respect because the truth was, this is what I believed I deserved. I hated the woman I’d become again but would rather have a piece of him than nothing at all. I’d worked so hard in counseling to get away from this cycle and love myself first, but I’d given up on me in favor of rescuing him. “I didn’t sleep much last n
ight, so I’m going to lie down to take a nap.”

  He responded with silence and indifference.

  My mind succumbed to the relief of sleep for several hours, waking to find an expected note on the kitchen counter. Gray avoided confrontation, so I wasn’t surprised he’d left with his friends and a “will be back later.” Always the proverbial “later.” I hated—detested—the vagueness of that timeframe. Determined not to sit alone, idly wondering what he was doing or who he was with, I called Jenny and Scarlett. We all agreed to meet up at Jenny’s tonight before going out. The two of them would distract me, and get me out of my head. Unfortunately, I had to deal with myself for the next few hours, and being alone was sheer torture.

  Lost in self-deprecating thoughts, my mind replayed history and my only past relationship. My self-esteem was at its lowest after Will and I had ended our four-year relationship. I had foolishly agreed to let him go knowing the pain he was in and how we’d both grown so co-dependent. Neither one of us had any business being alone with no supervision, to live life without restrictions. Or maybe I was so naïve I didn’t believe he’d ever actually go without me, or that life would lead him away from me. I had lost out big-time in that gamble. The loss of his life had wreaked havoc on my psyche. I allowed myself to wallow in the lies my mind fabricated—I could have saved him if I’d told someone, I should have insisted I stay by his side, it was my fault he’d chosen to end the torment because I hadn’t done enough to love him.