CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A week later, my bruise had faded from vibrant purple and throbbing to a dull yellow-green and sore to the touch. That first day was by far the hardest I’d ever had in my life. So many emotions ran through me, and nothing made sense. I felt adrift at sea. Amazingly, my anchor who stabilized everything was Grant.
I never thought of myself as a girl who would hide behind a man or rush to have him save her. I wasn’t a damsel in distress. Trish, Ava, and I had all taken a self-defense course when we were seniors in high school, and I’d always thought I could handle myself if the time ever came. What I didn’t count on when learning the steps was the emotional impact of being attacked. Even a single blow packed more of an emotional punch than I could have imagined. The betrayal, the shock, or the fear would paralyze you from thinking, let alone defending yourself.
I second-guessed everything I did that day over and over in my head. What should I have done differently? How did I not see this coming? Was I so blind to all the red flags? Should I have waited and confronted him? I had too many questions, and no answers.
The worst part was that I couldn’t stop the haunting images of Christian, of his drug-dealing buddies, and what might happen next because of what I did. The threat of the consequences of my actions was paralyzing—except when Grant was with me. My whole body calmed when he was there, like my subconscious knew he was my safe place. When I saw him coming toward me that day on the playground, I could finally breathe.
The day of the attack, Grant and I went back to my house to talk things over. Ava and Trish were there, all psyched to take me out for my birthday. When they saw my face, Trish went ballistic, throwing herself at Grant and pounding on him thinking he was the one who hit me. I loved her a little more for that. Ava had to literally sit on her to prevent her from getting in the car and going after Christian once we told her what really happened. Hell, Grant was ready to go with her.
And when I told them the reason, what he’d really been up to—let’s just say Fidel Castro probably would have gotten off easier with the three of them.
We went round and round for hours, debating on the best course of action. There were a lot of factors in play, but in the end we decided as a group to not go to the police. The drugs were gone, I had no idea who the dealer was who delivered them, and there was no other hard evidence against Christian, the surf shop, or anyone else. The only thing going to the police would have done was stir up more trouble for me, and I wanted to pretend like the whole thing hadn’t happened.
My eye swelled, requiring two steaks and a bag of peas before it subsided. There was no hiding it from my parents, but I couldn’t tell them what had happened. Daddy had too many rifles for that.
I ended up telling my dad that I got smacked with a softball during a friendly pick-up game. I wasn’t sure if he totally bought it, but I began avoiding both of my parents so they couldn’t ask too many questions. Questions like why I’d suddenly broken up with Christian out of the blue, and why Grant was now coming over every single day.
Grant was amazing through this whole thing, but to say he was slightly over-protective would be an understatement. He didn’t want me to go anywhere alone, insisting he or one of my friends accompany me on every errand, no matter how small. I understood and appreciated his concern, but I really didn’t think Christian was going to confront me in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly.
Christian did try several other times, however. He came the night of my birthday and screamed outside on my porch for a half hour. Luckily, my parents were away still, and the only ones home were Grant, Trish, Ava, and me. He yelled for so long and so loudly that old man Weatherling came out, yelling about all the noise, but he never called the cops.
“Please, baby. Just talk to me. Just let me explain. You know I never meant to hurt you.”
I refused to answer him, just sitting in my bed, shaking. Grant was ready to explode, shaking in anger. His face was bright red, and I had to sit on top of him and wrap my body around his to keep him from running out the door and killing Christian. “Please don’t leave me, Grant. I know you want to hurt him for what he did, but stay with me. I need you here with me.”
“C’mon, Jillian!” Christian yelled. “You’ve got to talk to me. What the f*ck am I supposed to do now?”
Ava stormed into my room with my dad’s golf clubs. She was angrier than I’d ever seen her. She began to pelt Christian with balls. “Get the f*ck out of here, Christian. She’s never taking you back. You’re lucky you’re not behind bars right now.”
“Goddammit! Jillian, call off your f*cking bitch friends and talk to me. F*ck! C’mon, Ava. Make her see reason. It’s not like this was my fault. Why’d you even open the package? Damnit! I swear to God, Ava, if you throw one more thing at me I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”
“No! You’ve gone too far this time, Christian. I backed you up for years. After the Abbi incident at prom, after the drugs—but I’m done. This is not forgivable in my book. So go ahead and try, a*shole. I’ll call the cops so fast you won’t be able to say Miranda. You know my cousin’s the sheriff.”
Christian flew to the porch, banging and kicking on the door. I clutched Grant tighter, unable to stop crying. “Get your f*ckin’ ass down here now, Jillian. I’m not playing any more. Or I will come in there and drag you out there.”
Trish threw a shoe at Christian from the window. “If your no-good sorry ass doesn’t leave right this instant, the next thing you see will be flashing lights. Leave, Christian! Now!”
He kicked and punched the door a few more times. “This isn’t over, Jillian. You hear me? It’s not over!”
Grant got up and flew down the stairs, but by the time he made it to the front door, Christian was peeling away in his Jeep.
A week went by, and I didn’t hear from Christian again, thank God. For the most part, Grant and I were—Grant and I. We didn’t talk about anything official, he didn’t give me his class ring or anything silly like that. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how hard I was beginning to fall. But I had just ended an almost four-year relationship, and wasn’t sure if I could handle another one.
So, instead we had a mutually unspoken agreement that, for now, things needed to be simple and comfortable. Take each day and see where it goes. We kept things mostly platonic over the first week—minus a few kisses. Okay, a lot of kissing. A lot (hey, a girl only has so much will power!).
Ava and Trish both jumped aboard Team Grant with both feet. They saw him as the anti-Christian (which he was), but also as someone who, no matter what it meant for him, had my best interests at heart. The three of them were always in cahoots now, which sort of made me nervous. Ava and Trish on their own could be deadly, but add in Grant’s twisted genius—we’re talking apocalyptic.
One of the schemes the three of them planned was a do-over birthday celebration. We decided to have it a week after my real birthday (since I didn’t want to look like an extra from The Walking Dead or something in all the pictures, or face uncomfortable looks from people all night) and to celebrate with a night of dancing in Savannah.
Now I sat at my vanity, fingering through the ringlets of curls and generously applying concealer to my face. Grant was sweet enough to pick up Ava and Trish, and they were all heading here shortly.
After pinning back half my hair, pulling my long bangs through so they swept behind my ear and leaving the bottom loose, I was about ready. I tried on three-quarters of my wardrobe, but finally decided on a white eyelet sundress with tiny spaghetti straps and a black satin ribbon that sat just below the bust line, cinching my waist. I paired it with my favorite red pumps and switched out the necessities from my purse for the night—lipstick, cell phone, license—into a small wristlet.
It was exactly seven when I heard Grant pull up. I rushed downstairs and threw open the door, excited about the evening and the chance to make up for the disastrous birthday from the week before.
“Wow, you look absolutely stunning,” he greeted me, taking my hand and kissing it before lifting it above his head so I could twirl around. “You put them all to shame.”
My smile spread from ear to ear. “And you, sir, are looking very dapper yourself.” He was decked out in a black linen shirt and a pair of jeans that framed his mouth-watering ass perfectly. I tore my attention away from the delectable sight of him before my willpower dissolved. “Where are the girls?”
He smiled wickedly. “They stayed in the car so I could do this.” He placed a hand on the small of my back and wrapped the other around my shoulders before dipping me back and kissing me. It started out slow, but built into something that left me breathless and me wanting more.
“Oh, wow.” I wrapped my arms around him as he righted me again and gave me another small kiss. “Now that’s the way to start a night out on the town.”
He leaned in and nibbled on my ear. “God, I can’t get enough of you. Let’s ditch those two and have a night in, just the two of us.”
Oh, that offer was tempting. But Trish and Ava were already honking the horn.
“Hey, you two! We’re supposed to be vertical dancing tonight, not horizontal! So get out here,” Trish yelled from the driveway.
“Ugh! You know she’s not going to stop until we do.”
He sighed, nodding. “If we must. But before we go I have something for you.” He pulled out a small box, which was wrapped with a tiny silver ribbon.
“Oh, Grant. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“It’s nothing big, but it reminded me of you, and I wanted you to have it.”
I pulled the ribbon and opened the lid of the box. Inside sat a four-by-six frame, clear so you could see both sides. Inside the frame sat a small postcard with a picture of the Eiffel Tower taken in the spring at a distance. In the foreground of the photo were hundreds of blooming flowers and trees. When I turned it over, he had written in French:
Si j’avais une fleur pour chaque fois que je pensais à toi, je pourrais marcher dans mon jardin pour toujours.
“Oh, Grant. It’s beautiful. The words, and the picture. I think I’m going to cry.” I ran my finger over the words, reading them aloud in English. “‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.’ That’s Lord Tennyson, right? It’s one of my favorites from him. Thank you so much, it’s perfect. I love it.”
I kissed him again, long and hard, hoping all the emotion I felt for him came through in that kiss. This simple gift was the most thoughtful one I’d ever received, and I couldn’t wait to put it on my nightstand so it would be the first thing I saw every day when I woke up. Grant would be my first thought.
As Grant wrapped his arms around me, I sighed contentedly. “Dream come true,” I whispered.
“What’s that?”
I shook my head and stepped out of his arms. “Nothing. Just thinking back.” The horn blasted again and I set the picture on the table. “C’mon, we should go.”
After I locked the house behind me, we walked hand-in-hand down the stairs. The girls squee’d when they saw me. “Okay, tell us what was in the box. He’s been taunting us the whole car ride.”
I looked up at Grant, smiling, and gave his hand a final squeeze before he slid into the driver’s seat and buckled in. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”
Trish scoffed. “Well, at least tell us what it was!”
“I’ll tell you this. It’s the best present I’ve ever received. Ever.”
I left it at that, plugging in my iPod and tuning it to my favorite playlist, but Grant hit pause.
“Hey, do you mind if someone else joins us tonight? It’s my friend JT. You probably remember him as the IT guy who drooled and probably tried to hit on you every time you saw him.”
I laughed. “Of course he can come.”
Grant turned away from my street and drove a few blocks, parking in front of a small green house with cream trim. As soon as the car stopped, the front door flew open, and JT stepped onto the porch.
“Don’t wait up, Ma!” he yelled. “And I put my laundry by the washer for you. Don’t forget to iron my work shirts this time!”
I rolled my eyes, but Ava and Trish couldn’t hold back their laughter.
“Is this guy for real?”
Grant sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. But he’s a great guy. Just has some growing up to do. Okay, a lot of growing up to do.”
JT opened the back door and slid in, whistling as he looked at Trish and Ava. “Well, hello ladies! Aren’t you looking lovely tonight?” He threw an arm around Trish. “Lookin’ good enough to eat,” he teased, wagging his eyebrows at her.
Trish laughed. “Wow, slow down, cowboy. Maybe you should start with introducing yourself before making sexual advances. Just a thought.”
I turned to look at them in the backseat. To his credit, JT seemed to be blushing and embarrassed. “My sincerest apologies. It is an honor to make your acquaintance, beautiful lady. My name is JT, and I am a Pisces. I love daytime soap operas and chocolate truffles.”
Trish stifled a giggle. “Well, JT, it’s fantastic to meet you. My name is Trish. I’m an Aries. I enjoy Texas Hold ‘Em, and peach pie.”
She held out her hand, but instead of shaking it, he laid a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “See that, we’re practically besties. Now can I continue with the sexual advances?”
He scooted another inch closer to Trish, who giggled, apparently enjoying his attentions. Grant rolled his eyes and began to open his mouth, but I stopped him with a hand on his knee.
“Let him go,” I whispered. “Trust me, Trish will keep him in line. And she can give it as well as she can take it.”
“Well, then,” JT chimed in. “I would love to see all this giving and taking later tonight.”
Trish winked at him. “Let’s start with a drink first, okay, Pretty Boy?”
Since Grant and JT were the only ones of age, we didn’t do much drinking, but we did dance the night away. We went to several different clubs that played everything from club mix to country and even one with reggae. I danced until I was sure I’d never walk again and my hair was plastered to me, soaked with sweat. My blisters even had blisters, but I was having so much fun, I didn’t want it to end.
We finally made it home just after four in the morning. I was dead on my feet and ready to crash. I gave Grant a half-asleep kiss before crawling out of the car. Ava was snoring away in the backseat, and Trish was cuddled up with JT. They were a crazy duo, but somehow they were kinda perfect for each other.
I put my head on Grant’s shoulder. “You sure you don’t wanna come in and sleep here? I promise to behave—just cuddling.”
“Tempting, very tempting.” Grant whispered so he didn’t wake any of them. “But your parents are home, and I have to get these guys home.”
“Eh, leave ‘em,” I teased. “Trust me, they’ve slept in worse. And Trish seems quite content right where she is.”
“Good night, beautiful girl.”
I gave him one final kiss. “Good night.”
I stayed, watching him pull away before I headed inside my house, fighting off yet another yawn. I somehow had the sense to leave a note on the kitchen island letting my parents know I got in super late and to let me sleep in before making my way to my bedroom.
I peeled out of my clothes, pulling on Grant’s crew T-shirt that I refused to give back before scrubbing off all my makeup with a warm washcloth. I finally climbed into bed, throwing the covers off my still-overheated body. I plugged my phone into the charger after I texted Grant to make sure he got home okay but never heard back.
My eyelids were too heavy to keep open, and I drifted off to sleep.