Page 56 of Never Always
Grange’s blue eyes are rimmed in black. Sallow circles make him appear sick and tired. “Why do you care? Look at me. You cannot possibly want what’s left.”
“Back to the dense thing, are we?” I smile with my eyes. “I love you. Do you know what that means?” His jaw works, but he doesn’t speak. “It means that you’re there for someone through everything. Good, bad, ugly. Especially the ugly.”Keep going, Tennyson. Say what you came to say. Use your fire.“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you and it changed everything. It changed me. I think it changed you. If it didn’t, then I’m wrong, but if I’m right, I’m just a woman standing in front of a man asking if he’ll let her love him. Not that wishy-washy kind of love, the transcendent kind of love that heals souls. The kind that might not bring back people we’ve lost, but the kind of love that creates new people. That’s some world-shaking stuff, Grange, and if you don’t believe in it, then that’s fine. I’ll walk out that door and find a man who will love me a little less than you did, because no one will ever compare, but at least he won’t be afraid of what love means.”
“You think I’m afraid of what I feel for you?” His chin quivers and my heart breaks apart completely. “Afraid? Out of all the words you could have chosen you settled on afraid? I don’t suffer well.”
“Let me help you suffer well,” I plead. “I am here for you. I want to be here for you.”
Far off in my memory, I recall the beautiful happy Corrick Granger. A man who was playful and who might have been broken, but not beaten. The man before me is shattered. “I love you.”
His gaze is glassy as he stares into my eyes so deeply it feels like he’s reading my soul. “I pine for the time when I didn’t know you. I didn’t know what suffering was until I met you. I suffer because of your perfections. I suffer because of your glorious imperfections. I suffer with knowing I will live out the rest of my days with the taste of you in my memories instead of inside my mouth. Sure, I suffer because I killed my best friend, but I know now that was a tragic accident. You? I’ll never recover from you. Not if I live a thousand years. That’s why I’m here. If I can’t get over you, I’ll never be able to move on with my life.”
My lip trembles. The amount of time I’ve held it together is ticking away. “Why am I something you have to recover from? Why do you want to move on from me?”
“Because my love kills, Fire. It kills.” Grange takes my face in his hands and wipes away the tears that escaped. Haunted eyes meet mine. “It kills. You need to get the fuck away and never look back. Do you understand me?” He leans in farther, lips a whisper away from mine. “Everyone I have ever loved has died. I am sparing you that fate.”
“You don’t actually believe that I will let you go, do you? If I gave up on you right now, that would mean my love for you isn’t real. It’s real. And maybe you don’t love me as much,” I say, but he silences me with a kiss, backing me into a wall and pressing his face to mine. His tongue is rough and probing and his lips are cold and dry, but I feel the desperation behind the brutality. I lace my hands around his neck and will him to feel my love, how much I need him and desire him in all ways. I let my tongue dart into his mouth and it’s with less force than he’s using, but he lets me, he gives in to the kiss completely.
He pulls away, but his eyes are on my lips, and he comes back for more, angling my head with his hands to kiss me deeper, more passionately than before. My breaths are quick and I have to pull away from his kiss even though I desire him more than I do oxygen. Clutching him, I claw at his shoulders and once again he kisses me, a man desperately seeking something inside me I’m not sure I have. His lips warm against mine, and it softens to something that resembles a true kiss. Eyes closed, lips light, tongues dancing gracefully. It’s the first time I’ve been kissed like this—like I’m precious. A commodity that is slipping through fingers like sand.
I can’t say how long the kiss goes on, all I know is that if he didn’t feel what I did in that kiss, that my valiant efforts mean nothing.
Grange leans his forehead against mine. “I love you, Fire. I love you so much. Please go.”
I swallow hard. I expected as much. My kiss can’t save him. Neither can my love. I’m the same old Tennyson reaching for things that will remain just out of reach. Sliding my hand behind me, I pull out his gift, a necklace—dangling it on one finger between us. “This is for you.” It’s a bullet charm, a risky choice, on a silver chain. “Some of Rexy’s ashes are inside of it. I thought if you had something to hold when you thought of him it might help.” Blinking back tears, I step away from him as he takes the bullet and rolls it between his fingers. Grange cries, clutching the token to his chest like he’s trying to mesh it with his body. It’s a harrowing sound when it comes from the person you love.
But isn’t that love in its purest form? A broken disconnect that you only realize the importance of once it’s gone? I close my eyes against my blurry vision.
“I leave for Australia tomorrow. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Thank you for everything, Corrick Granger.” I adjust my t-shirt under my jacket and he watches me, looking intently at my shirt. He closes his eyes again, and lets out a sob, shaking his head.
“I’ll never not love you. Remember that. I’m so sorry for your loss.” That seems the way to end it. Gracefully. I leave my chess set. Maybe he can play a real game again one day.
Not with me.
I leave before he says anything mean. As I close the door, I’m met with a walking nightmare of a different kind. Sierra. Clover ended up telling Sierra’s boyfriend about her manipulative plan because she couldn’t keep it to herself, and as expected Sierra is now single and trying to win back Grange. The last shred of my heart breaks as I concede to the enemy. She is Grange’s best bet, honestly. A woman he never loved. She can fix him because he will never love her. And that’s his hang up. I want to puke, scratch her eyes out, kick in her beautiful face, but now I know what the dirty side of love looks like. You’d do anything to make them happy. I wipe at my eyes.
“Good luck, Sierra. I hope you have better luck than I did.”
Sierra is taken aback, but I don’t wait for a reply, I walk out into the lobby where I agreed to meet Mercer.
He takes one look at my face and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“Not as sorry as I am.”
And that’s the truth.
Chapter Eighteen
Grange
I’M SITTING INthe common room of the hospital ward, watching the news. Another body. No leads. Reaching up, I twirl the bullet. The single most prized possession I’ll ever own. Hands down. The base of the bullet is inscribed with his name and his birthday. Not his date of death, and I think Fire knew I wouldn’t want that reminder. When I’m done rubbing it, it’s hot against my chest. I take in a painful, ragged breath.
“When are they gonna catch that crazy man,” a nurse says, standing next to me watching the news, hands perched on her hips. “If I had hair that color I’d be dying it quick. He has a type and he’s on a mission.”
“You said it,” I reply, pulse quickening. A new occurrence from feeling numb. “Too bad brunettes aren’t his type, I’d have one to hand him on a nice silver platter.” It’s a sick joke, but she laughs like I knew she would. She was there yesterday when Sierra tried to visit me. That bitch has balls so big they drag behind her when she walks. “Any other calls today?”Did Tennyson ask about me?
“Why do you care about calls today? You have been avoiding them the entire time you have been here.” She has sass. I like that she talks to me like I’m not sick. Looking around, I see men in various degrees of fucked up. Head trauma, hearing loss, legs blown off and wheelchairs that provide their only mode of transportation. “You about ready to sign yourself outta’ here?” She winks. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Maybe so,” I reply. “Don’t got much out there for me now, but I think I might have worn out my welcome.” Rexy wouldn’t want me in here pining for better days. He would kick my ass and then he’d remind me of who I am and who I’m going to be. He’s not here to tell me what comes next anymore, so I’m in control of my destiny. If I drive it into the ground, I’m doing him a disservice. I’d never say his life was in vain, but I have to try to validate it.
