Page 38 of All I Have Left

I tell myself he said the words because he’s drunk, but deep down I know that’s not entirely the case. What I do know is everything around me is completely hazy. He’s never said those words to me and to hear them now—in front of everyone—while the one behind me grips so tightly I can’t breathe, it’s a punch-you-in-the-gut kind of sadness. For so long I had prepared myself to never hear those words from him, and now that I have, it weighs heavy on my heart as I’m unable to process it.

The stubborn girl still bent about him leaving wants to tell him he’s too late. But the truth is, he’s just in time.

I don’t know if he meant for this to happen or not, but the moment those words are said, every eye in that field, shifts from Grayson to me, but I can’t make myself care. I want this one moment. Just this one emotion where I’m locked in a stare with him. It’s like we’re the only people here.

For a long time, I put my life on hold for Grayson. I stopped living. I thought I lost the only love story I would ever have, before it began. But here it is, right in front of me, staring back at me, willing me to finish and get to my happily ever after.

The applause brings me back to reality. Everyone is clapping except Shane—who has a very tight grip on my hip. It’s as if my hip is being pulled by a vise grip. I try to move, but he holds me in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“You’re hurting me.” In my second attempt to pull away, I fall to the ground.

At first I think he’s stunned that I fell in front of everyone because he stares at me, his expression wavering between anger and humiliation. Not for me falling, but that his so-called girlfriend is the center of attention by another guy.

Blinking quickly, he reaches for my hand, but then bursts out laughing. My eyes flick to Lance who’s beside him, and he joins in.

Embarrassment heats my cheeks. I press my hands into the dirt, willing myself not to react and make a scene, but I also can’t make myself get up off the ground. Maybe I belong here now.

Shane reaches for me to help me up but I shake his hand off, getting to my feet on my own as Ethan comes barreling toward us.

Knowing what’s going to happen, I face Ethan and hold my palms up. “It’s fine.” And then I step toward him. Shane hooks his hand around my elbow. “Where are you going?”

“Shane, please don’t,” I cry, though it comes out half-strangled, humiliated that everyone is staring at us now. I wrap my arms around him, as if this is a misunderstanding.

Holding me against him, his lips meet my ear and he walks us backward. “You’re not leaving with him.”

“She’s not leaving with you,” Ethan growls. Josh materializes out of nowhere to stand beside him threateningly. Awesome. So much for not wanting a fight.

Shane doesn’t ease his grip. “Yeah, she is.”

In the next movement, Shane attempts to pull me away, but I trip again and face plant in the gravel. Two familiar arms reach for me and then I’m pushed into Josh. It takes only one punch from Grayson before Shane is on the ground. Grayson doesn’t waste any time; instead, he picks Shane up off the ground and slams him into the side of the bathroom walls we’re standing next to.

“Told you…,” Frankie whispers, coming to stand next to Josh. She brushes my hair from my face and tears off my cheek. “Are you okay?”

I nod, momentarily distracted by the way Grayson looks. Although livid, he’s incredibly hot, breathing heavily, the muscles in his chest flexing. His furious expression makes it hard to focus on anything besides him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Shane yells at Grayson, struggling to get loose, his arm pushing against his chest. There’s no use. He’s not getting away from Grayson.

And knowing Grayson, he won’t let him go. Not until someone stops him.

With another shove, Shane’s head snaps back against the wall. Grayson’s words are pushed out between clenched teeth when he says, “She may be sucking your dick right now, but she belongs to me.”

“Grayson!” I yell, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he presses harder on Shane’s windpipe smashing his head against the bricks.

Shane smiles despite the blood pouring from his nose. “Yeah, she’s suckin’ it all right.” He gives Grayson a hard shove, but it doesn’t get him anywhere but slated against the wall again. “Ya jealous, soldier boy?”

“You’re such a goddamn pussy,” Grayson growls, yet surprisingly controlled, his bloody white knuckles fisting tighter in Shane’s shirt. And then comes his next words, and I’m not sure he means for me to hear them, but I do. “I had her first.” He presses harder, slamming his balled fists into Shane’s chest. “Guess who fucked her first? Me. I fucking had her first. Not you. Me! And I will get her back.”

Heat rushes my cheeks. He had me first? How could he have said that? That’s not something I would have ever thought he’d say.

I look to Ethan and then Frankie. They both stare at Grayson as if they can’t believe he said that either. It’s just… not like him at all.

Shane spits blood in Grayson’s face. “And then you bailed.”

“Let go of him!” I grab a hold of Grayson’s shirt, but it doesn’t do anything in the way of movement.

When he finally does look over his shoulder at me, I wish he hadn’t. There’s so much disgust in his eyes it makes me feel dirty and used, thrown away as if I’m not good enough for him, or anyone else. “What the fuck do you see in this piece of shit?”

At first, I don’t say anything because I’d never heard Grayson talk to me this way or act this way. I’ve seen him pissed before, but not like this—drunk and acting like a lunatic.

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