Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (40 page)

“Oh.  How is he?”

My parents always liked him.  Mostly because they knew he vowed to remain a virgin until he married.  He came from a strong Catholic family and his beliefs were very important to him.  I won’t say we didn’t mess around a bit in the three years we dated, but we never got hot and heavy.  Our relationship never had that sizzle.  I think Jeff hoped we would one day marry, but I know a TV actress is not the type of wife he would want.  That lifestyle is far too flashy for him and as much as I love my dad being a farmer, I don’t want to be married to the farm life.

“He looked really good, Dad,” I answer honestly.

I hear my dad sigh.  I think all these years of raising a girl has been hard on him.  He’s what you’d call a man’s man.  He’s into sports, he hunts and fishes, and drives a big truck.  He’s a farmer.  He burps and farts when he wants and he sure as hell isn’t about to apologize for it, no matter who he’s around.  He doesn’t care if the Queen of England is in his presence.  He’s a man…deal with it.

“Why ya so upset then?”

“Because he isn’t Grant,” I squeak out and a whole new set of waterworks begin.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Cammie.  Enough of this Grant bullshit already,” he bellows, standing and pacing my room.  “Your mother and I have been patient with you for months, thinking you just needed some time to recover from the ordeal he put you in, but now it sounds like you’re not trying to get better at all.  You’re just holding onto a man who has told you to go away.”

“You don’t understand, Daddy!” I scream at him.

“You’re damn straight I don’t understand.  That son of a bitch got you kidnapped by a fucking madman and only by the power of God are you still here with us.  Yet, you’re still crying over him.  What is wrong with you, girl?”

“You’re wrong!  He saved me, Daddy,” I cry, sitting up so my dad has to look in my eyes and see the truth.  I’ve never told anyone Grant’s story, but I’m tired of everyone blaming him.  “He came for me as soon as Davyd said he had me.  Put himself into that madman’s hands willingly.  He didn’t have to do that.  He could have called the cops and prayed they found me before he killed me, but he didn’t do that.  He took Davyd’s threat seriously and he got into that car, not knowing what that goddamn lunatic would do to him.”

“Cammie, you don’t have to—”

“No, you will hear this because you think Grant is a bad person, but I’m only here today because of that man.”  My father stays quiet, but I can see his unease.

“He raped Grant.”  The visions of Grant chained and helpless under Davyd come back to me.  I don’t know when it was worse.  When Grant would stare at me, telling me with his eyes that he would take that torture a thousand times to keep me from knowing that pain, or when he would turn his face from me to hide his hurt.  Either way, it devastated me.

“I didn’t know,” my dad whispers.

Like he never spoke, I continue, “Over and over, he raped him.  Grant always chose to be the victim to keep Davyd from raping me.”  My father’s gasp tells me he may be starting to understand a little of what I’ve been trying to get everyone to understand.

“The day we were rescued, Davyd was about to rape Grant again, but for some reason, he chose to leave one of Grant’s arms free.  I guess he thought he had broken him down enough.  He gave Grant a sponge bath and afterwards, he didn’t think like the look on Grant’s face.  For whatever reason, it sent him into a rage because…well, I’m not really sure.  But that’s when he started to attack me.  Grant started yelling that he would submit and that’s all it took.  Davyd left me alone and went back to abusing Grant.  That was the opening he needed to fight back against Davyd.  That’s how he got stabbed and ended up needing surgery to save his life.”

“Cammie,” he tries to interrupt.

I keep talking over him.  It’s not to be rude, but I need to finish defending Grant because I need my dad to see it all.  I need him to see Grant through my eyes.

“Even after he was stabbed, he stopped Davyd from throwing a knife at me.  He was bleeding out and had a collapsed lung, but he threw his arm in the way to protect me.  He never once stopped fighting to protect me in the six days we were trapped.  This man you and everyone else in this town call a monster, is my hero.  And I’m in love with him.  I’m in love with him, Daddy, and I miss him every second of every day.”

I crumple back onto my bed and allow the sobs to take over once again, the pain in my heart too great to contain.  My dad’s arms wrap around me and this time, I allow myself to accept the comfort.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  If we had only known, we would have been more understanding.”

My dad sits silently, holding me until my tears dry.  After a few minutes, he pulls me up by my shoulders and locks me in his gaze.

“I have something to say about all of this and you can disagree if you want.”

I nod that I’m listening.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been better to you through all of this, but I will be going forward.  I should have taken the time to listen to you about this man, but I still don’t like him and this is why.  He threw you away.  Any man who can’t see that my daughter is the catch of a lifetime, obviously is a fucking idiot.”

I roll my eyes and laugh.  He kisses my forehead and lets me know he’s going to make some coffee.

That was a little over a week ago and I have to admit, I’m feeling a lot better since the talk with my dad.  Getting all that off my chest was freeing.  My dad’s right about Grant, he is a fucking idiot.  I am a catch.  If I had written that in a text, I would totally make a winky face right now.  I can find humor in myself since that day.  Humor is something that’s been lost to me since Davyd kidnapped me.  It’s a beautiful thing to be able to laugh at yourself.  I used to do it all the time.  Actually, I thought I was about the funniest person alive.

My job has been a whole lot more fun, too.  Everyone has noticed the personality change.  I thought I was a pretty damn good waitress, personable, always had a smile on my face, but it turns out, I’ve been a depressing bitch the last five months.  Amazing what people will put up with when they feel bad for you.

It’s a slow day at
Grant’s,
not that Wednesday’s are our busiest day anyway, but today is going slower than turtles fuck.  I want to crawl out of my skin with boredom.  It’s worse because it’s unusually warm outside for mid-October.  It feels like an early summer day and I want to go run through the fields at home, lay out on the grass, and just feel the sun on my face.  We won’t get many, if any, more days like this.

“Get your stuff and go home,” Grant announces to Jenny and me after Rowdy finishes his coffee and saunters out the door.  We look at each other confused.  “Everyone’s out enjoyin’ this beautiful day.  They ain’t comin’ here ta eat.  Go on.  I’ll clean this place up.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.  I grab my stuff and run for my jeep.  Outside, I take the top off Bertha and pull my hair from its ponytail.  There’s nothing better than feeling the wind whipping through your hair at high speeds.  I set off for home with the sun beating on me and
Shake It Off
pouring from my speakers.  My head swings to the beat and I’m singing like a maniac.  This should be my new theme song.  A few people I pass laugh at my behavior and I just wave.  It feels good to let loose again.

Driving up our two mile long driveway, I marvel at how beautiful it is, just like I always do.  Oaks and maples line both sides.  It’s gorgeous no matter the season.  Growing up, I didn’t realize how spoiled I was to live in such splendor.  I may not aspire to be a farmer or live this life, but I hope to own land as beautiful someday.

Pulling into my spot, I notice a car parked alongside my dad’s truck.  I wonder if the Department of Agriculture is here getting numbers from Dad’s crops.  I hope I’m not asked to entertain because I want to change and get outdoors.  I grab my purse from the back of Bertha and walk toward the house.  When I step onto the porch, I freeze.  Through the open windows, I hear a voice I was certain I would never hear again.

“Mrs. Richards, Mr. Richards, thank you for allowing me the time to talk to you.  I promise not to be here too long.”

What?  He just got here and he’s already talking about leaving?

“First, I want to apologize for putting your daughter in danger.  Cammie never should have been taken.  My mistakes led to— ”

“Sit down, son.”  I hear my dad’s gruff voice and I stifle a chuckle.  I can picture him in his recliner, feet kicked back, beer next to him, with his baseball cap sitting low, eyeing Grant down.  He’s an intimidating man.

Shuffling sounds reach out to me and I wonder whether Grant is sitting on the couch or the love seat.  I’m sure my mom is in her rocking chair working on her knitting.  You’d think my parents are uber old with the way they act, but they just like simple pleasures.

“My daughter explained to me what happened and I’m sorry for what you went through.  I don’t know if that lunatic would have taken her had she not been friends with you.  I can’t say.  That’s for God to judge.  What I do know is you didn’t make him do those things to either of you.  A man isn’t made to do things, he decides to do them.  What he did is not your fault.”

There’s a long pause before I hear Grant clear his throat.  “I came here because your daughter is the only person I’ve ever really cared about.  That probably sounds strange to you.  How can a grown man have never cared for anyone?  I cared for my parents until I was betrayed by them.”

I can’t believe he’s telling my parents about his life.  I should walk away, but I’ll be damned if I can move.  I stand at my front door, listening to him tell them about his dad getting sick and how he learned Nathan wasn’t his real father.  The story of learning Mikos was his dad is horrifying.  What kind of mother admits to her sixteen-year-old son that she slept around to produce a child, and worse, that she drugged one of them?  I wonder what my mom will think of Gloria.

He tells my parents that he lost his way when his mother started talking about his brother and the joy he was to his father.  Something in him snapped that day and all he saw was revenge.  It warped every decision he made for years.

I’m floored at the extreme honesty he’s showing my parents and that neither of them is screaming at him to get the hell out of their house.

“I was a mass of bitterness until I met Cammie.  Your daughter changed something in me.  For the first time in years, I felt it when I smiled.  I wanted to laugh and suddenly, I didn’t care so much about making people hurt.  I didn’t want to be the horrible person I was.”

I hear my mom sniffle and realize my dad told her what happened in my room last week.  She knows what happened to Grant.  I want to run in and hug my dad for knowing I needed them both to understand.

“I know I’ve pushed her away for over five months now.  I know…because I have felt every minute she’s been out of my life like a hammer to my gut.”

“Guess you’re not an idiot then.”

“Huh?” Grant asks.

“Nothing,” my dad replies.  “You were saying?”

“I wasn’t a great guy.  I don’t know that I’m a good guy now, but I’m working toward being a better man.  If you want me to sit here and spill all my darkest secrets to you, I will.  I will tell you every terrible thing I’ve done because I need you to know how serious I am about winning Cammie back.”

“I didn’t know you were a couple,” my mom says.

“We weren’t.”  He sounds so sad.  “I was too much of a fool to reach out and grab on to the best thing that ever happened to me.  I’m hoping I can fix that now.  With your permission, I’d like to go find her and pray she’ll talk to me.”

My parents say nothing for a minute and I can imagine what he’s thinking.  I wish they wouldn’t toy with him.  I can tell by the tone of their voices they are impressed by him.  Honesty and respect are huge in this household, and what he’s done today may have just won them over.

I can’t stand the distance between us any longer or that my parents are still making him sweat.  I open the door and walk in, not being quiet about my arrival.  I step into the hallway and walk to the living room.  Grant stands from the couch and I can’t stop the gasp that falls from my lips.  He’s even more gorgeous than I remembered.  Those deep brown eyes and dark hair making him mysterious and sexy.  He looks a little leaner, but he’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

“Hey, buttercup.”

A tear rolls down my cheek and warmth radiates from my chest.  He called me buttercup.  I didn’t think I’d ever hear that name again.  “Hey, stranger.  Long time no see.”

“Got lost going to rent a movie,” he jokes.

“Well, I hope it was worth it.  The popcorn got cold.”

“I heard you have a thing for tall, blue aliens.  I even picked up some IBC along the way.”

I nod because I can’t talk around the sobs that want to burst forth.  I’m not sad.  In fact, I’m overjoyed at how easy it is to talk to him.  I thought it would be awkward and we wouldn’t know what to say, but it’s like nothing ever happened.  This is my Grant.

I pull myself together and ask, “Wanna go outside and talk?”

“I’d really like that.”

He shakes my dad’s hand and thanks them for allowing him into their home.  I watch my mom tear up as he walks away and my dad gives me a wink.  I think they approve.  I grab two waters on our way out and we go sit on the porch swing.

My fingers brush against his and it feels right.  I didn’t realize how much it feels like home when I touch him.  Without asking his permission, I slide my fingers between his and close them.  I need to hold on tight, feel the substance of him, even in this tiny way, to know he’s really here.  He curls his fingers around mine and we sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping our water and swinging back and forth.