Wherever It Leads(58)

Like a hammer hitting a nail, pounding it into a wooden plank in one fell swoop, it occurs to me that I will never love him again.

And I’m not sure I ever did.

A server steps up and we order drinks. She scurries away and returns before we can get a conversation started. Whatever I anticipated, it wasn’t this awkwardness like we’d never conversed before.

We place our orders and I wait for the server to leave once again before I try to push this conversation to the finish line.

“So . . .” I say, giving him a chance to lead the conversation. Instead, he sits there like a little boy and doesn’t speak. I groan. “Grant, you’re going to need to start talking.”

“I know, I know.” He fumbles with his silverware and then takes a hasty sip of water. “It’s just . . . I don’t know where to start.”

“I’d just appreciate you starting. Really.”

He plays with his fork, moving it from one side of his plate to the other.

“Grant,” I groan, considering just getting up and leaving. “I showed up here so you could talk. Start talking.”

He stills and looks up at me. “I’ve missed you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Babe, you do. Think back to all the time we spent together.”

“First of all, don’t ‘babe’ me. Got it?”

Nodding, he watches me carefully. He’s surprised by this new me, this more forward, confident version I’ve just taken on recently. He’s not comfortable with it, his hand going to his scalp and tugging on his hair.

“Second of all, you cheated on me. That’s unforgivable.”

“You never let me have a chance to explain.”

“No, I did. I gave you a chance and you didn’t take it. You just stretched out beside her and looked at me,” I spit, my blood boiling. “Go to hell, Grant.”

“But I wasn’t f*cking her, Brynne.”

“I. Don’t. Care. Not anymore.”

“Well, I do care. I went overseas on two tours with Mandla to save money so we could start a life together—”

“We weren’t together the second one, asshat.”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s not a confident gesture. It’s a move that lets me know he’s grasping at straws. “But I was still thinking we’d get back together. Brady wanted us to.”

“Don’t you even bring him into this,” I glare. “It was him that told me to drop you because you were acting erratically.”

“I’ll never believe that.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “That’s not what he said to me. He said he wanted us to fix things, to get back to the way they were.”

“Well,” I chirp, “The first step in that is getting Brady home because nothing can go back to the way it was until that happens. So why don’t you be a f*cking man for the first time in your life and tell me what really happened that night?”

His mouth drops open, not used to me talking to him like this. His vulnerability only sets me on fire, makes me more determined to show him I’m not the na?ve little girl he once knew.

“I’ve told you everything,” he notes evenly. “Brady left his bodyguard and ran into the street. There was nothing we could do.”

“And you want me to believe that?”

He shakes his head. “Yeah. Because it’s the truth.”

I search his eyes, looking for a tick that makes me believe him or not. But he’s such a good, practiced liar that I can’t find anything to go on.

“I really doubt it,” I say. “None of us believes that was the case. You and the other guy—you say you were ordered into that area and the company says you weren’t. Why were you there, Grant?”

“Because they told us to go there! They gave us the coordinates and off we went. Yeah, it seemed odd. But it’s not our place to object. That’s not how these things work. You do as you’re told and don’t question it.”

“That makes no sense.” I watch him fidget in his seat. “If that were the case, there would be some record of it. There’s not. Not according to Mandla’s files.”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, Brynne. But do you really think, really think, I’d have let anything happen to Brady? Fuck, he was my best friend. Not only that, it could’ve been me they grabbed. Why would I put us in that position?” He leans over the table, his eyes boring into mine. “You have to believe me. Think about it. What do I gain from having him gone? Nothing. Just the loss of the best guy I’ve ever known. And the loss of you, the love of my life.”

“Don’t . . .” I say, shaking my head. “Don’t start in on that.”

“But you are. I’ve loved you for so long.”

“You’ve needed me for so long,” I whisper. “Those are two different things.”

An extended silence settles over the table as we both let our words marinate. I wonder if what he’s saying is true. If any of it is true. It’s heartbreaking all around, and I bite my lip to remind myself to be calm.

I’m trying to form words when I sense him. His musk swirls together with the scent of expensive cologne. The air heats and moves around me in a seductive dance, the way it only does when Fenton is around.