Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(42)

“You don’t care about how I feel. I was there. I saw you holding the gun and pointing it at my mother before you killed her. So, whatever the f*ck you have planned in that f*cked-up head of yours, stop now. I want no part of it. I want you to leave me and everyone else I care about alone. If you get anywhere near them, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

I hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. I wish I had lost the damn thing off the embankment. At least then, it would have saved me from that phone call.

My breathing was labored, and suddenly, all the events of the day came crashing back over me. I collapsed onto the ground.

Ari screamed and lunged for me. She placed my head in her lap and brushed my hair back. “Grant, oh my God,” she murmured before kissing my forehead. “Everything will be okay. Tell me what happened.”

I struggled to sit up, but she gently tugged me back down. I relented only because I had no energy left in my body. Her fingers trailed down my arm, over my bruised side, and to my hip. She brought my hand up to her face and kissed each and every inch of damaged skin. I lay there, mentally and physically immobilized.

“Grant, I love you. How can I help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong?”

She sounded near to tears, and I felt like a douche for pushing her to that.

I finally sighed and prepared myself for her anger. “That was my dad on the phone. He wants me to listen to him or some shit. Also, I got in a motorcycle accident.”

“You did what?” she shrieked.

Then, she covered her mouth and shook her head. I could tell she was warring with herself on her reaction.

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“No, I was driven home by a couple who had found me.”

“Found you?” she whispered.

“Yeah. I was thrown off the bike and fell down an embankment. The bike didn’t fare as well.”

“Oh, Grant, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you go to the doctor?”

“I’m fine,” I repeated mechanically.

“If you weren’t already bruised beyond belief, I would beat the shit out of you right now. Come on. I’m taking your truck, and we’re going to the emergency room.”

“Ari, no. I don’t like doctors. I hate the ER. So much blood, and…” My skin felt clammy, and I thought I might throw up or black out.

Blood reminded me of holding my mother as she died. Blood ran thick and heavy between my fingers as I tried to save her. Doctors rushing around, trying to save a dead woman. Nothing could be done. The sound of the flat line. The questions. The nightmares.

“Grant,” Ari breathed again, “I’m going to be there. If you die from internal bleeding, I’ll never forgive you. So, we’re going to the doctor. Now, get up. I’m driving.”

“Princess—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You got into a serious car accident and need to get medical help—now.”

There was no arguing with her. Everything I wanted to say about the accident, about my mother, about my dad…she’d sidestepped like a f*cking pro. We were going to the hospital if she had to drag me every goddamn step of the way.

And I loved her even more for it.

Two broken ribs, eight stitches, and a concussion.

The doctor didn’t look half as exasperated at me as Ari was. When she’d heard the news about the accident, I’d thought she might actually give me another concussion.

“How could you be so stupid?” she groaned. “You know how I feel about motorcycles!”

“You’re more comfortable shooting a gun than being on the back of my bike.”

“With good reason.” She indicated my beat-up body.

“Don’t have good experience with guns either, darlin’.”

Her whole face softened with pity. I hated that look from her. No one needed to pity me. This was why I’d never told anyone about my past, not even Miller knew the sordid details.

I looked away from her. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Grant,” she murmured, reaching for me.

I stood and brushed past her. She grabbed my hand anyway. The pity was gone when I next looked into her eyes. It was replaced with determination.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, just stop. All we’ve been doing the past couple of months is fighting and running away from each other. I’m over it. I’m just over it.” She balled her hands into fists at her sides. Her eyes were fierce. “We can’t push each other away anymore. You trusted me with the information about your parents. I gave you…” She blushed furiously. “Well, me. Whatever. You know what I mean. And I can’t keep up this cat-and-mouse game. Either, we’re okay, or we’re not—”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and silenced the rest of her speech with a kiss. She growled low in her throat and tried to fight me off. When I winced at her outburst and only deepened the kiss, she gave in. Her body went slack, and she leaned into me.

“Okay,” I whispered against her lips. Then, I kissed her one more time.

She nodded. Her eyes were still closed as she stole another kiss from me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make me forget what I was saying.”

“I plan to do more than that.”