Page 23 of Not A Whisper

As his gaze drops, Grant’s throat convulses and his head swings slowly back and forth. His hands curl into fists on the tabletop, and veins bulge in his forearms. It takes him three steadying breaths before he can continue.

“Anyway, a few years after I was born, things started to get rocky between Uncle James and my father. They weren’t seeing things eye to eye, and I think—” Grant shakes his head hard once. “—no, Iknow, James was starting to regret how they were handling things. But there was no escaping my father’s grasp, so Uncle James was forced to stick things out with him. He and mother grew close in their hatred for my father.”

Before he can continue, the oven goes off. Grant leaps to his feet and immediately starts fluttering around the kitchen again. Grabbing my glass of wine off the table, I watch over the rim as he busies himself. He plates the food and brings it over.

I glance down at the meal and blink in surprise. “What is this?”

“Duck breast with apricot chutney.”

I open and close my mouth, not even sure what to say to that. Where the hell did he get this?

“Do you not eat duck?” The mockery in Grant’s voice has me jerking my head up to look at him. He’s watching me closely.

I shrug. “I’ve never had duck. Or apricot chutney. I’m just surprised at how fancy this is.”

Grant snorts. “Fancy?”

I pick up the knife and fork he brought over. “Well, it’s not something I’d be able to afford typically. Anyway, youwere saying…”

Grant looks down at his own plate but doesn’t make a move to take a bite of any of it. The silence doesn’t stretch very long. When he looks back up, a familiar hard glare is firmly in place. It’s nice to know that this time, it’s not directed at me.

“When I was fourteen, my mother had enough and tried to escape my father,” Grant spits out. “She went to my uncle one night, probably to see if he would help her. And knowing him, he probably would’ve. Do you know how that ended?”

Of course I don’t. But Grant isn’t looking for a response. His question is rhetorical.

“It ended with a bullet through her heart and a bullet hole in my uncle’s temple.” His voice trembles with rage. The red blossoming in his cheeks is striking against his pale complexion.

My fork clatters onto my plate as I gape at him.

“Grant…” I don’t know what to say. I reach out to touch his arm, but he leans away and shakes his head.

“Don’t. I just need you to listen.”

I lick my bottom lip nervously but nod. “Ok.”

Grant sighs deeply. “My father made their deaths look like a murder-suicide. But I was privy to the entire thing. Somehow, he knew they were meeting that night and he dragged me with him. He wanted to teach me the importance of loyalty and what he’d do if I ever decided to step out of line. Not that I didn’t already know that. His abuse of my mother extended to me as well. Sometimes he’d even go after Jason and Trip if they were around at the wrong time.”

I sag back against my seat. No wonder Grant’s been so adamant about protecting the people around him, including me.

His hands come up to rake his fingers through his tousled hair.

“When I turned eighteen, a lawyer approached me after my last football game of my senior year of high school. He toldme Uncle James had left me everything. Even a private LLC that he’d just started up quietly. I’d already been trying to get out from underneath Garry but with how much power he wielded? It would’ve been impossible on my own. But with the money and a new company, there was a chance to be free. Then Jay and Trip came to me and told me a lawyer approached them with money from my uncle as well. He knew we were close and treated them like family, but I never dreamed he’d do so much for them.”

He clears his throat. When that doesn’t seem to help, he reaches for his glass of wine and downs the entire contents of it. When he doesn’t continue, I take a moment to consider the secret he’s shared with me.

Garry Gipson murdered his wife and brother in front of his son and managed to get away with it. The burden of this knowledge must weigh heavily on Grant’s shoulders.

With a deep breath, I try to take a look at the bigger picture.

“So the LLC that bought the apartment you all share, your uncle created it?” Grant nods. “And the fancy truck? Was that something from your uncle as well?” Again, another nod. “And creating this luxury ranch to fund your other endeavors… Was this a suggestion given by your uncle? Like in a will or something?”

At this Grant shakes his head.

“No. Jason, Trip, and I came up with it on our own. My father used the money from my mother’s trust fund to start his up. He used it to launder money, conduct shady business meetings, and the like, to get to where he is now.” He looks at me again, his eyes catching the recessed lighting. They flash as a harsh smile pulls at the edges of his mouth. “While he used his start-up to ruin others and get a step ahead, we’ll be using ours to destroy him. It’s a step forward in a long battle, but it’ll be worth it.”

It all makes sense. Grant’s protective nature, his loathing of his father, and the need to see Garry fall. My heart shudders under the intensity of the warmth gathering within it. I look down at Grant’s fists, still resting on the table. My fingers tingle to reach out and wrap around those clenched hands.

Fighting back the urge to get closer to him, I clasp my hands together under the table.

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