Page 78 of All I Have Left

EVIE

D arkness envelopes Grayson’s room. The only sound’s our light breathing. We have sex once more, because he claims once was not enough, and I’m happy to help out. This time it’s slower, his kisses deeper, and there’s more emotion behind every bit of it.

It’s when we’re lying here the second time, I think about what led us here, and the ugly parts surface. The secrets we’ve kept from each other and though he knows mine now, I still don’t know the truth about what he went through.

“Tell me what happened to you in Iraq.”

Immediately, his breathing changes. Reaching down, he yanks on the sheets at our feet and covers his waist. “Why does it matter?” He isn’t looking at me but I feel his body tense and go rigid beside me.

“Because if we’re going to move forward, I need to know, Grayson,” I tell him softly, and roll onto my side to face him. “It’s the only way this is going to work. No more secrets.”

Turning his head, his guarded, tormented eyes meet mine. “A lot of shit happened over there.”

“I know you were captured and held prisoner,” I admit. “Wyatt told me. ”

He blows out a breath. “Figures.”

“Just tell me,” I beg. “Please. I need to know.”

He’s breathing heavy but his jaw relaxes a little, rubbing his hands over his face, his words void of emotion when he says, “My training in the Army was in Special Forces, specifically in counter-terrorism. In November, my team was shipped to Iraq on a mission. Me and another guy, Matt, were out one afternoon a couple weeks after we got there on clean up as we called it. It’s just combat search and rescue.

We would go out and look for other soldiers who hadn’t returned to the base.

About an hour into it, we came across a deserted town about twenty miles from the base.

” He pauses, a deep sigh rolling through him.

I draw in a breath myself, unsure where this is heading and fearing this might bring up unresolved pain for him that’s not necessary.

“It was a set-up from the beginning,” he mumbles keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “To make a long story short, we came under attack and were captured. Matt and I were stuck down in an underground bunker.”

“What did they do?”

“Nothing at first. I don’t think they knew what the fuck to do with us.

But we heard them. I mean, the shit we saw even before being captured was crazy.

Rape, murder, I couldn’t believe that kind of bullshit that went on and the cops there didn’t even bat an eyelash.

” He turns his head and looks over at me, our faces inches apart.

I hold my breath for what’s to come. “I started to think we were going to die in that place. Every night I would lay awake and hear the sounds of bombs going off, accompanied by constant machine-gun fire. I was in hell. Right in the middle of it, the worst place on earth fighting someone else’s battle, in a fucking hole in the ground, left to die.

” He stops, seeming to struggle for a moment, his voice beginning to shake around every word.

“I told myself that if I ever got out of there alive, I would come home to tell you how I felt. And never let you go. ”

Well he did, and it nearly killed him again. Regret washes through me. “How did you get out of there?”

Turning his head, he stares at the ceiling again, the weight of his story heavy. I run my fingertips over the gunshot wound on his shoulder.

“When we didn’t tell them anything, they threatened to kill us.

We didn’t even know why we were there and the Army kept it that way in case something like that happened.

We were search and rescue. We didn’t know shit.

” He blows out a heavy breath. “I’m not even sure how long we’d been there, but one night they led us to a field where a group of men were. They had baseball bats in their hands.”

A wave of nausea hits me and I cover my mouth. “Oh my God, Grayson.” I flinch at the thought of what he’s about to tell me. I know exactly where this is going.

“They forced me to watch as they beat Matt to death with a bat… and he screamed until he couldn’t scream anymore for me to make them stop.”

The irony of it, the similarity, it tears at me and it’s more than I can take. Sitting up, I cry into my hands. For him. For Matt… for me. I can’t even imagine what he must have felt… the complete and utter helplessness, and then to see me… “Watch me fuck her against your truck.”

I look back at him as he reaches for my hand, fear etched in his face.

He swallows a few times and I regret asking. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have forced him to open up to me.

He can barely get the next part out. “I couldn’t do anything.

” His words shake around every word. “They had me tied up. All I could do was scream and beg them to stop. But they didn’t.

They shot me four times and threw me on the ground next to his body.

I was out there for what seemed like days or even weeks.

I don’t even fucking know.” Sitting up slowly, he stares down at his hands, tears falling down his cheeks.

“The next thing I remember I was in a hospital back in New Mexico. They told me Matt had died, and I was being honorably discharged.”

“I’m so sorry, Grayson,” I cry, turning to face him. He pulls me into his arms, against his chest. “I had no idea. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“Hey.” He touches my face with both hands. “You didn’t know. How could you have? I couldn’t talk about it.”

“How can you now?” I sob, thinking I’ve destroyed all the healing he’s done by bringing it up again.

“Because I have you. And after what happened with us that night, it’s like my mind replaced one trauma with the next and compounded the two. I dream of both of you, tied together, and I can’t do anything.”

“Do you think Shane knew?”

“No, I don’t think he did. Nobody knew what happened in that desert but me and Matt.” His lashes flicker. “He knew about my shoulder though.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He got the information from somewhere.”

I’m not surprised. Shane had an obsession with hurting Grayson once I was no longer his concern. “Were you and Matt friends?”

Grayson nods. “You could say that. He was only nineteen years old, Evie. Nineteen .” His body shakes against mine.

“He had a wife, and a baby boy back at home in Texas he never got the chance to meet.” He lifts his eyes to mine.

“And here I am alive, getting a second chance, or a third chance to do it right.” His voice cracks, and then he clears his voice.

“I’m fucking it up, honey, and I know it.

I’m sorry. I have a lot to be thankful for and it begins and ends with you. ”

My chin shakes, snot running out of my nose. It’s not pretty, but given the circumstances, I don’t think it matters how much of a mess I am because the man beside me is the same. “We’re gonna make it, Grayson. We have to. For all the shitty shit that keeps happening, we deserve this. ”

Laughing, he holds my head to his chest. “I guess I better get my shitty shit together then.”

I snort. “You better.”

I didn’t sleep last night. I closed my eyes, but no, sleep didn’t come for me. And if I had to guess, Grayson didn’t either. He tossed and turned most of the night and then sat outside on the patio for over an hour as the sun came up.

I didn’t bother him and somewhere between then and now, I must have dozed off.

I lie in Grayson’s bed longer than I usually do that morning. I think about the night, the wedding, our argument… Matt. Pain hits my chest at the reminder of everything that was said and not said.

Sunlight slivers of morning dance on the wall with the movement of his curtains.

I turn over to find him missing from the bed again.

Rolling over, I stare at the ceiling, my hands resting on my stomach.

My eyes burn from all the crying I did last night.

I think my heart hurts worse. For everything we’ve been through, but most of all, Grayson.

I’m just about to get up and look for Grayson when I hear commotion, footsteps, and then his presence. For a moment, I watch him move through the dimly lit room. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts, hanging low on his hips, no shirt and hair a mess.

He stands next to his piano, lost in thought. My throat tightens, my heart pounding in my ears. I wait, because up until now, he hasn’t touched the piano his parents gave him. He hasn’t even looked at it. With a deep sigh, he sits down on the bench and rests his hands on the keyboard.

He turns his head and looks over at me. There’s no smile, no emotion in his. I have no idea what he’s thinking. Our eyes meet as he starts a slow tune, as if he never stopped the last couple months.

I swallow, my mouth dry, waiting for what might come next, my heart hammering in my chest. Tears sting my eyes. Him sitting at that piano, this is us healing. Something new every day. Baby steps into whatever our future holds.

And then comes his voice, unfamiliar in his low singing tenor. A sound I wasn’t sure I’d hear again because up until now, he hasn’t shown any interest in the things he used to like. Turning his head to look at the keys, he sings an acoustic slow version of Madonna’s “Like A Virgin”.

It’s… everything . The rasp of his voice, the emotion in his every word, all of it together sends a chill through me. And tears. I cry through the entire thing, remembering every detail of the last few months. It’s the perfect song, when played slowed and simple like this.

It reminded me of everything that happened last night.

The wedding. His outburst. The truths we gave, and the love we made.

A shiver runs up my spine, a tingling between my legs thinking of his weight on me.

I swallow, my lashes fluttering closed as I touch my hand to my lips, remembering what his passionate kisses tasted like.