Page 65 of The Bloodfeather Promise
It enrages me that he dares touch what is mine. But it’s my own cruelty that makes me sick.
“Get your fucking hands off her.” I shove Dylan, and he stumbles back, glaring at me. Emerson’s eyes are wet with tears, and once more, she tugs helplessly against my grip. I jerk her closer, sneering, “Be still.”
“Greyson… you’re hurting me.” Her bottom lip trembles. That sweet, full bottom lip. The same fucking piece of flesh I kissed with such reverence early this morning. When I really thought it possible I could spend the rest of my life with this girl. It seems so long ago now.
Nausea rises in my throat, and suddenly, all I want is a hit of coke and a bottle of whiskey.
“Dude, so not cool.” Jett frowns, eyebrows lowering in concern for the little liar I’m holding so tight. The manipulator I won’t let go. The girl I can’t let go. Because I love her like the tides love the moon.
“Jett, stay of out of it,” I snap back. “That goes for all of you.”
“No can do,” Brant says calmly. “You’ve already involved us. Think we’ll stand by and just let you manhandle the girl? We still havesomemorals, you know. Very few, but we still have them. You know, Jack told us you were dating a girl down here. We didn’t know it was her. Because we all remember her. She just about knocked your ass out that night.”
That earns a blistering glare from me, but before I can retaliate, Emerson’s soft voice jerks my heart out of place.
“You kicked me out that morning, Greyson. Do you remember? Are you capable of remembering?” She gazes up at me in abject despair, her anguish thick as morning fog. “How could I remind you of that? Why would I want you to remember the moment you tossed me aside? I didn’t want you to remember. That night in your hotel room, I was just a girl you used, and you didn’t think twice about me after that. For the past two months, all I’ve wanted was that you want me simply because I am Emerson Banner. Because I want you—”
“You want me because I’m Greyson Finch, and I play guitar for Seven Seconds. You want me because I fuck like a god. You want me because no one else makes you come like I do. As often as I do. Don’t act all high and fuckin’ mighty now. We both got what we wanted that night. And last night, too. I screw a hot girl, and you get your fantasy fix.”
Her face pales even more. As if all the blood is draining away from her. Spilling out in little rivers I’ll have to clean up later.I’m breaking her…It’s a chant running through my brain even as I’m the one being split open.
“Oh, Greyson… I slept with you because I loved you. I—I still love you, only it’s different now. I know you. Therealyou. That night, I gave you something no one else would ever have. It was a small thing, but it meant so much to me. But once you had it, you tossed me aside.” Emerson is so torn apart by my actions, it hurts me to look at her. “That morning, looking straight at me, you told me to leave.” She wipes tears from her cheeks using her free hand since I still have a grip on her. “Your precise words were, ‘You’d better not fucking be here when I get out.’I left because that’s whatyouwanted.”
I don’t remember, although there is a vague memory of Jack calling. Or maybe it was Jett. We were booked for a photo shoot somewhere that morning. A promo for our U.S. tour. I can’t recall the precise details. But somehow, I do remember sliding into Emerson’s softness before that phone call. The wet, silky heat between her legs. I remember the tightness of her, how it felt to sink into her again and again.
“Why would I kick you out that morning, Emerson? You were a great fuck. One of the best I’ve had, you should be proud I remember at least that much. And innocent? What kind of virgin lets someone like me do the things I did to you?”
Dylan interjects with a sharp laugh. “Christ, Greyson. A better question is how could you not know that she was? It might be crude to say it, but you could almost smell it on her that night. She was all innocent stares and shy hands. I watched her looking around the bar, trying not to let on how horrified she was. She looked at us like we were wicked animals, Devils personified. And you know what? The whole time she was with me, her eyes were on you. Nothing I said interested her. She was there withyou. No one else stood a chance in hell.” He shakes his head. “You are fucking this up, man. You’re still so wrapped up inyou, your pain, your issues, your problems, you can’tseethis girl standing right in front of you.” Dylan pauses, and I think he’s done pointing out my flaws, but he surprises me by slowly saying, “Grey… I feel sorry for you. I really do. Don’t you see that losing her will be more devastating than anything you’ve ever experienced? Even more than losing Alex.”
Before I can respond to that statement, which upsets me more than it angers me, Emerson’s soft voice interrupts.
“Would you guys give Greyson and me a few minutes alone? Please?”
Jett and Brant have hung in the background, watching our drama like an episode ofGame of Thrones.At Emerson’s request, they scramble with almost comedic haste.
“Of course.” Brant grabs two more croissants before saying to Jett, “Hey, man, get some eggs on a couple of plates. I’ll grab the O.J.”
Dylan shoots Emerson a look which speaks volumes. He’s making sure she is safe with me. I can read it in his eyes. I wonder why they all remember her so well when I’m only capable of recalling bits and pieces. It makes me jealous. Makes me crazy. Makes me sad. I let go of her hand as if she’s a lit flame. Or toxic like me.
Emerson gives Dylan a tiny smile of gratitude more poignant than my heart can handle. Even tears cannot distract from her beauty. Tears I’ve caused.
“Yeah, if you need us, we’ll be outside,” Dylan concedes with a nod. Rubbing her wrist, Emerson quietly tells him where the terrace is. She assures him they will be more comfortable out there. I appreciate her efforts to give us a little privacy for what is sure to be a heartbreaking moment.
Once we are alone, Emerson faces me, her chin lifting stubbornly.
“I meant every word, Greyson. Every word. I’m not sorry for what we’ve shared. I’m not sorry you were my first. I only wish you remembered because it was special. Something I will never forget. I never intended to deliberately deceive you. I wish you believed that. For a long time, I hated you. Hated what you did. I hated that you threw me away. Threw away the magic of that night.”
I don’t say anything. I simply stare at her, stoic in my suffering. I’m losing her, and it’s fucking gutting me.
Why can’t I say anything?
“When you came into my bookshop, it turned me inside out. I never thought I would see you again. And, I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you everything, only the words were never right and I couldn’t make myself say them anyway. I thought, if I discouraged you, you would give up. I would go back to hating you and trying to forget you. You would go on being Greyson Finch, I would be Emerson Banner, and our lives would continue as before. But it didn’t happen that way. You showed me who you truly are, and I love you.You. Not Greyson Finch, the rockstar. Just you. My funny, sensitive, handsome Greyson. The man who can decorate a golf cart but has questionable taste in old rock music. Who dances with me to eighties songs, and takes me walking on the beach looking for seashells. The guy who saves me from books falling on my head. Who wants to fly me to France for French toast, and lets me win races in the swimming pool. The man who writes and plays songs on the guitar that brings me to tears.ThatGreyson Finch. I love him more than my heart can bear.”
I don’t say a word. Not a single word to her beautiful confession of love. Because my heart has been ripped out and there is nothing but a hole where it used to reside.
She sighs at my silence, blots the tears from her cheeks, then wipes her hands on her pants. “Last night was incredible. I will always remember it. I’m going to leave now, but I want to say something before I do.”
“Go ahead. You’ve got my undivided attention.”
