He’s staring at me with lust but pity.
“You came to me because you thought I could keep you safe? You didn’t know me, not really,” he says.
“It was a chance I had to take. You couldn’t be worse than what I’ve been up against.” I bend down to pick up my wet clothes to put them back on, but Grayson stops me.
“Here.” He shucks off his shirt and tugs it over my head, and it falls all the way to my knees.
It’s better than the soaked clothes. Plus, this shirt smells so good, like pine and wilderness. I love the smell of the outdoors. “Thank you,” I whisper. I’m glad I’m not showing my body off to these men anymore. I’m not ashamed of my bruises, but showing them makes me feel more vulnerable and judged.
“Well, if they weren’t dead, I’d say we had a few people to kill,” Grayson says.
My eyes fall to his chest, and I try to look away, I do, but I’ve never seen a man who looks like him before. The guys my age, they look like boys, but Grayson? He’s filled out, muscular, with abs and defined pectorals. He has a dusting of chest hair, not a thick blanket. He’s beautiful. I knew he would be from the picture he sent, even if it was a view from behind. His back was beautiful. He reminds me of a knight or a gladiator, someone strong and fierce, ready to use himself as a shield.
He clears his throat, and the garbled sound has me dragging my eyes from his sexy body to his face.
Crap. He caught me red-handed checking him out.
“We need to look into your stepfather. We will do that another time, when you’re rested and showered.”
It hurts that Grayson won’t even look at me for more than a second. He really isn’t interested at all, not like how I am. I can’t say I blame him. This is a risk I took when I lied about my age.
“Sure, I appreciate it.” I pick up my wet clothes and hold them in my hand. I don’t know what to do next.
“I’m Jaxon.” The man that nearly shot me introduces himself and points to the man in the cast. “That’s Heaven. The big guy next to him is Owen. You know Gray. And there’s Sebastian, but he is still sleeping. He pulls late nights sometimes and sleeps until noon. His wife is Gabriella and my wife is Quinn, the pregnant one. We have a guest, Zeke. He’s our lawyer. Don’t mind him. He’s a mess.”
“My son’s social worker is here too. The last thing I need is this,” Grayson scrubs his hands over his face, and I feel guilty for intruding on his life like this. He’s obviously stressed and considers me an added stressor.
Coming here was a mistake.
“Tomorrow I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. Can someone show me to a room? I’d love to shower.” I do my best to fight the emotion bubbling in my chest. I can’t cry because then I will show my age. I have to be mature about this. I’m eighteen and he is thirty-two. I’m so fucking stupid.
“Grayson, you don’t mind showing her, right? I need to go check on Quinn. We have an appointment to get to this morning.” Jaxon stares at his watch to check the time and closes his eyes. His chest rises from a deep inhale, and when he exhales, he walks toward the hallway. He pauses by the couch and grabs the remote, points it at the TV, and turns it off while turning his head to look at me. “Tomorrow, we reconvene,” he says, vanishing into the shadow of the corridor.
“Is he the leader? Is that why he barks orders?” I ask and nervously push a strand of hair behind my ear.
Grayson snorts, and Heaven snickers.
“Yeah, he is. He started this group of misfits,” Owen, the guy with the more serious expression on his face, informs me.
I want to ask what the misfits do exactly, but I think I’ve learned not to ask any more questions and to remain quiet. It’s obvious I’m not meant to know what they do. I don’t belong here. I’m the liar, the teenager, the girl who doesn’t belong. I know when to bite my tongue.
And right now, I’m biting it so hard it’s bleeding.
“This way,” Grayson says, placing his hand on my lower back to guide me.
His palm is huge and as wide as my torso. My body tingles from the simple touch, the heat radiating from his hand is slowly causing the chill under my skin to dissipate. But as quick as he touches me, he pulls his hand away. “Just follow me,” he grumbles, walking ahead of me while his friends stare at us with humorous grins.
I’m glad they think it’s funny because I feel like I’m about to get my head blown off. I watch Grayson’s ass sway, rounder than what I expected it to be because of how built he is. I can’t take my eyes off the way his spine disappears below his waistband, giving me a defined trail surrounded by lean muscles.
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I’m glad he can’t see me right now. I don’t deserve him, not after what I did. I should have never lied. Lying is what scared little girls do, and I like to think I’ve been through enough to know I’m a grown fucking woman now.
It’s time I start acting like one.
I do my best to put Grayson out of my mind and focus on my surroundings. The Cliff House is one of a kind, truly beautiful with it’s unique architecture and floor-to-ceiling windows. Every so often, a wave crashes and swallows the cliff, submerging us in water. It happens in a blink of an eye, but it’s still a wonderful thing to witness.
Grayson stops midway down the hall and points to a black door with a gold knob. “You’ll stay here. That’s my room,” he points directly across the hall, then the door next to his. “That will be my son’s room. I’m new at the dad thing, so please don’t turn your girly teenage music up high or any of that bullshit.”
He thinks I blare my music? I’m not fucking twelve. “I’ll be sure to keep Five Seconds of Summer on the low, don’t worry,” I snark with more attitude than I intend. My hand lands on the handle, but before I open the door, I turn to him. “You know, I am sorry, but I’m not a child. I know you think I am because I’m so much younger than you. What I did was wrong, but I’m not that person. It isn’t who I am. I was just trying to survive before my real life killed me. You were a happy part of my day, friend or not.” Glancing away from his handsome, stone-cold face, I open the door and lock it behind me, finally letting the tears crash around me as I let go of the pain that’s been building up for far too long.
Crying behind closed doors is allowed because no one can see me, and if no one can see me, it didn’t really happen. I hate being weak, and the more time that goes by and the more challenges I’m faced with, the more I realize that I’m not strong. I’m weak, and the only thing that has kept me alive so far is fear.
Chapter Eleven
GRAYSON
I can hear her crying behind the door, full-on heartbreaking sobs. I frame the door with my arms and hang my head. I hate to listen to her pain because I know I’m the cause of some of it. Maybe not all of it, but some. She’s been through hell the last few weeks, and it’s only natural for her to fall apart when she’s safe, and her defenses don’t have to be up anymore.
There are so many things I’m mad at her for. I don’t want her here, but I do. I want to hold her, but I can’t. I’ll never allow myself to touch her. She deserves someone her age, without a fucked up record staining their life. She’s too young to be a stepmom to an eight-year-old boy.