“Hey, sorry to just show up unannounced,” Fitz said.
Grant gritted his teeth. “That’s all right. What’s up?”
“You haven’t been answering my texts or anyone else’s. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“I figured you’d say that. That’s only part of the reason I’m here.” Fitz’s serious eyes locked on Grant as he casually slid his hands into his pockets, a mannerism he’d learned from their father.
Grant was sure the conflicting serious expression and casual action gave Fitz and his father some sort of an edge over certain people, but he wasn’t one of them. “Spit it out, Fitz.”
Fitz pulled his hands out of his pockets and paced. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about what went down at Mom’s.” He stopped pacing and looked directly at Grant. “I’m sorry I said anything about you wanting to go back to Darkbird. It was a knee-jerk reaction to say what I did. I didn’t mean to be a dick. It’s got to suck that you can’t go back, and I’m sorry.”
“You weren’t a dick. You just don’t want to think about me getting hurt again. I get it.”
“I have no idea how I can be so on point at work and fuck up so badly when it really matters. I know you must have felt like an outsider with all of us jumping on you at once. I’m really sorry about that. You’ve always done right by me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grant was so upset over hurting Jules, others hurting him barely registered. “We’re cool.”
“Thanks. For what it’s worth, that stuff you said to Dad was what I think most of us feel but don’t have the guts to say.”
“I doubt the others feel that way.”
“Kei does. We’ve talked about it. But you should know that while it doesn’t excuse Dad’s moving out, he’s done a lot to keep our family together, and he’s done things for us that he doesn’t talk about.”
“I know, Fitz. My issue with Dad isn’t that he’s a shitty father, because he’s not. It’s with how he handles situations. But that’s not your burden to bear. That’s my shit to deal with.”
“We’ve never talked about why Mom and Dad live in separate houses, but if you’re going to try to talk with him, I’m happy to go with you. I fully support you. I remember how much it sucked those first several months after Dad moved out. I was so damn lost, I didn’t even know how to act. I took all my cues from you. When to shut up, when to help Mom, how to help Wells and the girls. I tried, but thanked God every day that you were there. You knew what to do when Kei or Bellamy broke down in tears or Wells acted out. I was in awe of you, man.”
Grant’s chest constricted. He’d forgotten how Fitz had changed during those tumultuous months. He’d gone quiet, become a watcher, observing everyone and everything around him before making any moves. That was probably what made him so good at business.
“I was never worthy of awe,” Grant said honestly. “But I appreciate you telling me that. And as much as I value your support, and believe me, I fucking treasure it, I don’t want you getting involved with this. You need to keep your relationship with Dad on good terms.”
“That makes me feel like a pussy. I shouldn’t be standing behind you.”
“Fitz, you haven’t stood behind me since we were kids. You’re on the front lines with and for this family every day. I’m so damn proud of you, you have no idea.”
Fitz scoffed. “You’re talking shit.”
“No, I’m done talking shit. I’m leading with honesty from this day forward, and I’ve got to tell you, it feels fucking fantastic. Where are you headed? Got a date?”
“Nah. Just going home.”
“Come on in. Let’s have a beer.”
Fitz’s brows slanted. “Seriously? You want me to go in there? Into your reclusive man cave? Don’t I need some type of top-secret clearance? An invitation from God himself?”
Grant laughed. “Or you can stand there and be an asshole.”
Fitz followed him onto the porch, and when he saw the welcome mat, he gave Grant a curious look.
“Don’t ask.”
“Is that like, don’t ask, don’t tell?” Fitz teased.
“It’s like none of your damn business.”
Chapter Twelve
AFTER SIX OF the most miserable days and longest nights of Jules’s life, at least that she could remember, during which she’d tried, and failed, to trick herself into not liking Grant, she’d startled awake at five o’clock in the morning knowing exactly what she had to do. She scrambled out of bed and wrote him a letter, showered, and dressed in head-to-toe black to deliver it.
She zipped up her jacket, pulled on her black knit hat, and shoved the pink envelope into her jacket pocket. Keys in hand, she threw open the door, and shrieked at the sight of a hulking figure bent over in the dark stairwell. She kicked him and flew back into her apartment, slamming the door. “I have a gun!” she hollered as she turned the dead bolt and pushed the chain into place. “My boyfriend’s a cop! He’ll be back any second!” Her heart thundered as she stumbled backward, fumbling with her phone.
“Jules! It’s me, Grant!”
She froze, relief and hope rising inside her, but she was still riddled with fear and shouted, “How do I know it’s you?”
“You could look out the peephole, Pix.”
Pix. She threw open the door. “I’m sorry! It was dark, and I didn’t know it was you. Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine, but that was a hell of a kick.”
“Sorry. Archer taught me to fight first and ask questions later. Wait,” she said sharply. “You told me you didn’t want to be with me. You deserved that kick. What are you doing here?”
“I was going to leave this for you.” He reached behind him and picked up the big metal lantern she’d left on his porch before he’d ended things. “I don’t know what your favorite colors are, but I figured your Jeep was a pretty good indicator, so I went with pale yellow for the metal panes, and well, here, you can see for yourself.”
He handed her the lantern, sending her heart into another type of frenzy as she took in the intricate paintings on it. Vibrant green vines snaked up the pale-yellow metal between each glass pane and climbed along the rim of the triangular pieces at the top. Colorful flowers sprouted from the vines, like little beacons of hope. A pixie sat in the middle of a bright-pink flower, her tiny toes peeking out from beneath the blue and gold dress covering her legs. She had sparkling transparent wings and a flower wreath in her hair. Her hands were cupped, and she was blowing gold sparkles, sending them swirling across the glass. There were tiny lightning bugs painted all over the glass panes, and the sight of them choked Jules up. You remembered. Another pixie was perched on her knees on one of the triangular pieces at the top of the lantern. Her butt was up in the air, her forearms flat against the vines and rim above the glass pane. Her long light-brown hair tumbled over the edge onto the glass, as if she were looking into the lantern. She had purple fairy wings. Her chest was blocked by her arms, but she wasn’t wearing a top, only a sparkly green skirt with a jagged bottom that revealed her thigh. She had delicate features and slightly pointy ears, like Jules’s.