Page 70 of Not A Whisper

As if he can hear my thoughts, or maybe mine are an echo of his own, Grant grips my hand tight.

“I think we have a plan on how to protect you, but I need you to trust me.” He grimaces as if he knows how that sounds after everything that’s transpired.

Trust Grant? My stomach twists. Before yesterday, I would have said that I do, undoubtedly. But now I’m not too sure. If he can hide an engagement from the closest people around him, what else can and will he hide?

Before I can answer, Jason jogs out of the Nani’s new houseand waves us in. Relieved at the interruption, I reach for the door.

“I’m going to grab the food.”

I try to pull my hand away from Grant’s but he doesn’t let me go. I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes are pinned to my face, his expression hard.

“I won’t let you pull away, dollface. You can kick and scream all you want, but I’ll drag you to hell with me if I have to if that means I get to keep you.”

Eighteen

Last night consisted of tears and love.

It was beautiful watching Jason, Trip, Grant, and the others breathe easy for the first time in, well, I supposedecades. A weight’s been lifted. Although I haven’t been around long enough to feel as stifled, helpless, or crushed beneath it, I can sense it’s departure. Finally free from Garry’s tyranny, Carlos and the Nani’s seemed to both deflate and then reinflate. As if all the toxicity they consumed under Garry’s rule has been pushed out to make way for clean air. Color and life fill their cheeks, turning them red. And laughter erupts often and echoes around the shell of the empty house.

As I sat there on the floor with everyone, watching and listening, I noticed how Luane always seemed to have her hand on someone. Whether it was Grant, Trip, her son, Kai, or Carlos. She clutched them like they’re her lifeline. As if she believed that any minute this magical place where freedom rings loud and clear would disappear.

Carlos and Kai joked with one another, their smilesstretching wide. The guys hackled one another, and Luane kept them in check.

They make a beautiful blended family. And me? I found myself right dab in the center of it. Never once did I feel excluded or awkward. And the only reason I believe Luane didn’t reach out to hold me is simply due to the fact I sat too far away.

I’ve never been surrounded by so much love. My foster parents were nothing but raging alcoholics, leaving me with only Pianna and her mother growing up. It was the three of us against the world and we made due. But being in the middle of such a tightly knit group? I’ve caught a glimpse of what life could be like in the future with my guys.

It's something I haven’t given real thought to before. Call it self-preservation or simply denial—but I haven’t thought to look too far into the future. What I have with these three young men? It feels too fragile. Why risk looking too far ahead when every day feels fraught with drama and speed bumps that risk breaking us apart?

But I allowed myself to look ahead on the way home last night, seeing what could be. And by the time Grant pulled up to my building complex, I was certain of one thing: whether we end up together or we go our separate ways, I won’t ever settle for anything less than that feeling of comradery and acceptance that I felt under the Nani’s new roof.

“I got to head back. Trip’s guys are done loading up the Nani’s place and are headed to Carlos’s house next, but it’ll be just Trip, Jay, and I that take everything to the new houses and unload it all. Other than the five guys that helped us throw the houses up and build the dock, we’re limiting who else knows of the place.”

“You’re not worried those five will spill the location to anyone?”

Grant shakes his head once. “They’ve signed NDA’s and we’re paying them very well to keep quiet.” He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up how he’s styled it. “God, I can’t believe we did it. That we’redoingthis. If only you knew how manyyearswe saved because we can start all this now.”

The soft laughter of relief that bubbles past his lips is a bit hysterical, probably from a mixture of relief and disbelief. I stare at his profile. I’m so used to a hardened Grant, one that has everything figured out. Who’s too cool to be bothered by the inconveniences of life. But over the past two weeks, I’ve seen a whole new side of Grant. One where he’s vulnerable, ashamed, even scared. I’ve even seen him beaten down and lost.

Now I’ve seen him humbled.

Of all the multiple facets of Grant Gipson, this side of him is the most fascinating. Watching a young man succeed in something so selfless and grand, then feeling shaken in the aftermath is awe-inspiring. At his age, I never in a million years would have been able to conceive of, let alone bring to life, something like this. His heart, as warped and finicky as it is, is in a good place. The love he has for the people back on the ranch knows no bounds.

I might still be mad at him, and I’m still hurting from his secret, but it's impossible not to see what great things this young man is capable of. Leaning over the console, I surprise Grant with a kiss on his cheek.

He blinks a few times in surprise as he looks over at me.

“Thank you for bringing me along tonight,” I whisper in the darkness. “It’s amazing hearing you talk about something then seeing it brought to life. You are a miracle worker.”

Grant’s mouth parts, his brows pinching together. His eyes sweep across my face slowly. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but I don’t look away.

“None of this would have happened without you. You arepivotal to everything, dollface.” He shakes his head slightly, as if some thought that’s crossed his mind has bothered him. His jaw ticks as he tilts his head to regard me once more. “Forgive me, dollface, and we could make more miracles together.”

Images of him and Carmilla together flash through my mind. Grimacing, I reach for the door handle. “You know what you have to do if you want my forgiveness.”

My dreams are plaguedwith dead horses, screams, blood, and Garry Gipson.

Thankfully, at work I’m too busy to worry about Garry or what he’ll do to me when shit hits the fan.

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