Just That Easy (30 page)

His face had gone pale. He looked at the ground, not even
directly at her. She was glad, she didn’t even want to look into those eyes and
see the lies there.

“No. I can’t. I give in to you, always. I can’t resist you,
and obviously that’s a bad thing for me. For once I have to learn a lesson on
my own, it’s called stop being a doormat for the guy who tells you he is
everything you ever wanted, except it’s a total lie and you know it.” She
brushed past him, a car pulling up to the curb. Al, he’d come as soon as she
called him, not even asking for an explanation. The humiliation of having been
used by one of the biggest playboy assholes in the country was too much and Al
was the only one who knew about Grant and her, the only one she could call to
get away from him without having to suffer the truth that she’d been so stupid.
She didn’t look back as she got into the car.

“Oh, girl, you’re having a night, aren’t you? All hot and looking
dark and sexy, and screaming at each other in the street. I hate to say I told
you so, but…uh…”

“Yeah, I know. He’s a Callahan.” The tears wouldn’t stop
coming, but neither would Al’s chatter, that was the only certain thing she
knew right now. At least it might distract her.

“Guess you didn’t find out a good way.”

“Uh, no.”

Still talking, he handed her a tissue box from the backseat.

“Here you go, girl. All right, well, I was hoping he’d come
clean, just so you know, I made him promise me he’d tell you by the end of the
week, or I was going to do it. I just, well I wanted to give him the chance.”

“So that’s what you were arguing about. Why?”

“Those Callahans are a crazy bunch, everybody knows that.
His daddy is gay as me, loves the black men, but he pretends he’s all clean and
holy. Used to anyway. That’s what Grant had to leave for, go pick his worthless
daddy up out of the gutter again. His uncle, now he don’t hide nothing, sweet,
sweet man, but crazy as a fruit loop. You know we were together?”

“Yeah, Grant told me.”

“Uh huh, well, that’s how I know Grant. He’s—I guess from
their point of view—the black sheep of the family. From my point of view, he’s
the luckiest damn one of the bunch, because he turned his back and walked away
from all that mess. He called me up a few months ago, said he needed to lay low
for a while, he was just moving on into a new life, one totally away from all
of them, and his past. I arranged the job for him to give him a place to go
pretty much.”

“You still didn’t say why.”

“Because that boy deserves a chance to be happy. So do you.”

“Don’t even go there, Al, you don’t know the half of what is
going on. I just, I can’t even comprehend what just happened. I’m not in any
place that I give a shit about what Grant wants or needs.”

“Do I have stupid written on my face, girl? Hello, I’m a gay
librarian, what do you think I do all day if I don’t watch every little thing
everyone I know does? No, I don’t know all the little craziness you guys been
up to, but I have a good idea from the way Grant’s been gushing all about you.
I seriously do not want to know about that little game he talked you into
playing, but it seemed like whatever you were doing it was all going better
than either one of you seen for a long, long time. Don’t pretend you aren’t
sitting around, nose stuck up in one of your books, wishing someone like him
would come along and just yank you out the door into the daylight. Girl, you
know it’s true.”

“Look where that got me, eh, Al? Great idea, just great.”

“You looked in the mirror lately? Up ’til now a plow truck
couldn’t have wiped the stupid grin off either one of you.”

“Things change, Al. Actually, nothing’s changed, it’s all
still exactly what I thought it was to begin with, total crap. It’s even worse
than I thought, to be honest. A pig in makeup, that’s what this turned out to
be. He’s nothing that he made me think he was, Al. This was just a game to
him.”

“What if that’s not true, what if it was just as real to him
as it was to you? How did you not even know who he was, recognize him? ’Til a
year ago he was all over the papers.”

“I don’t read that shit, Al, you know that. I’ve heard about
them, yeah, you can’t be breathing and not know who the Callahans are, but I
didn’t pay attention to the gossip. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t be here right
now. What happened a year ago?”

“You want to know, you’re gonna have to ask him.”

“Not bloody likely.” They reached her driveway. “Thanks for
the rescue.”

“Just promise me you’ll think it over.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of nothing else, probably for a
long, long time.”

That was the truest thing she’d heard all night.

She didn’t want to face Al, and figured that if someone
stole the damn box with Grant’s things it wouldn’t make any difference. He had
enough money to replace a fleet of yachts, the few clothes, and his bag full of
whatever she still hadn’t looked in would be the least of his worries. Leaving
it in front of the library door, she still had enough conscience to drop it off
less than an hour before opening, so chances are it wouldn’t disappear.

It had taken her five minutes to box it all up as soon as
she walked in the door to her house. It had taken two days to manage to
actually put it in her car and drive it to the library. She didn’t want him,
the pain he had caused, or to deal with any of it, but it was harder to break
the final tie than she thought.

Since then, the half dozen calls from Al had gone
unanswered, even as bad as she felt deserting the one person who had been there
for her when she needed him. She couldn’t face the risk he may push her to give
Grant a chance.

Not that Grant had called.

The tapping on her door knocked her out of her haze, the one
that came over her when she tried to work now, or anything else for that
matter. The one that pissed her off, because it meant he still messed with her
life.

Al stood on the doorstep, a determined look on his face,
sweating in the midday heat. Pulling back her sigh, she gritted her teeth and
opened the door. She couldn’t leave him standing there.

“I’m not here to harass you, sweetie.” He grabbed her up and
hugged her close before she could protest. After a few seconds she relaxed into
it, needing the comfort of it. Tears sprang up but she fought them back, and
just hugged her friend for a moment before she pulled away.

“Okay, well something dragged you away from that cathedral
of yours, what’s up? I know you must have gotten the box I left.”

“I got it. I have something to give you too. What you do
with it is up to you, but I’m asking you to read it. Maybe not today, maybe not
even in a week, but when you’re ready.”

Nodding, she accepted the big manila envelope he held out,
regretting it immediately when she recognized the scrawled handwriting that
formed her name on the front.

“Tell you what, how about we just do this. I’ll stay with
you, open it, get it done. Whatever you find in there, you can just finish this
here and now.”

Getting the idea he knew damn well what would be in there,
she shrugged, figuring not much could possibly change her mind, or make this
any worse. She sat, dumping the contents of the envelope unceremoniously on her
coffee table. Giving Al a cocked eyebrow look, she began sifting through them
as he sat next to her.

The first document on the moderately thick stack was a copy
of a legal statement. One that documented Grant’s agreement to give up all
rights to any of the Callahan family holdings. The date it had been written was
over a year old. The date of the signature, was the last day she had seen him.
The night of their fight. The night his wife has shown up, and his real
identity revealed.

Pushing it aside—not surprised by it but wishing it hadn’t
necessarily been verified—she moved on. Next out of the envelope, she pulled a
small pile of newspaper clippings and magazine articles.

“I added those,” Al admitted. “He doesn’t know I put them in
but it’s things that you should know.”

Frowning at him, she grimaced and started reading. They all
had something to do with the Callahan family, the empire, the family’s
Christian values. A profile of the Callahan family, their views of raising
kids, basically spare the rod spoil the child, ship ’em to boarding school. An
interview with an obviously rebellious Grant as a seventeen-year-old, saying he
had seen his parents three times in the last five years, a little cocky,
something that might have made her grin if she had let go of her anger already.
Another interview a few months later, with his parents, a contrite Grant
obviously towing the line, his parents in attendance, talking about what a
blessing such a structured upbringing was. Then a gossip piece about how Grant
went to college and against the wishes of his family, got a degree in
Oceanography, absolutely nothing to do with his family business. A bio from a
Callahan family company a few years later, spinning his degree, telling how
Grant’s college education with a science background will help lead them into
the new green-planet technology, when he takes over as the CEO of the
conglomerate. Another clipping about Grant marrying a society heiress, a very
devout one. A picture of Olivia, looking smug, and Grant looking miserable, was
attached. She cringed at her gut reaction, grating at the fact she felt
sympathy for the bastard. Fighting back the tears, she shoved it to the bottom of
the stack.

Then came the tabloid-documented downfall of his father
being caught with a male prostitute. A year later, a bit piece about Grant’s
divorce, a tell-all article from the woman, about how Grant never even
consummated the marriage, maybe he was gay like his father, her spin obviously
spiteful and angry. Then another followed about her reconciling with the
family, but Grant separating himself from all of them. Finally, a news clipping
about Grant, the oldest Callahan son and heir to the empire, walking out of the
family board meeting after refusing to take the CEO position. Refusing to have
any connection with them at all, and then just disappearing off the radar.
Dated eleven months ago.

The note caught her off guard. She hesitated, seeing her name
in his familiar handwriting, not really wanting to read it, but unable to turn
back now.

Teryn,

I’ve already gone, so you don’t have to worry about this
being another manipulation to get you to come back to me. Seems like no matter
how hard I try to be the exact opposite of what I was born into, I can’t escape
it. I only want you to at least understand, it’s me,
none
of this was
your fault. Everything everyone writes about me is crap, I want my chance to
tell my side for once. My family is twisted, my past is twisted, I hoped I was
going to change that but obviously I haven’t done it. My family breaks
everything they touch.

I wanted to try to make a new life, an honest life. Just
be who I am, with you, but it was ruined by the same thing my family has always
done, that I fight against, but exactly what I did to you. Lie to get what you
want. It wasn’t what I ever meant to do. I reached for something I thought I
could never have, finding someone like you, someone true, someone honest, with
such a wild, free heart. You just hadn’t found the strength, or the person, you
felt safe enough to let it loose with yet. I wanted to be that person. I’m
sorry I made you think I could be.

I need you to know this is my fault, not yours. You were
as honest as anyone could be, always telling me that you couldn’t let yourself
love me, because you knew all along something was wrong, and you were right.
Me. I was the wrong thing.

I have to clear up one more thing. Yes, I was married,
but it was not to someone of my choosing. My family arranged it, to further
their ideas. She didn’t love me, and I didn’t even know her, in any sense of
the word. She just wanted to have the perfect life, and if she had to marry me
to get it, that’s the price she was willing to pay. The world those people live
in is not my world, Teryn. None of that is who I am, who I’ve ever been. The
crazy little world we created together, that’s where I wanted to spend my life,
but I destroyed it, and I know it. I do love you, Teryn. I loved every second I
was with you, I always will.

Grant

Frustrated, angry, she crammed the letter into the envelope,
then gathered the rest of the papers and shoved them in on top. Her mouth a
tight line, she blew out a breath, not sure how to dissipate her nervous
energy, her irritation, her total heart-wrenching pain. Getting up, she paced,
not going anywhere but at least she was moving.

“There’s more. Somethin’ he wouldn’t show you.” He shoved a
thick manila folder at her.

“I don’t want to see anymore. There’s no point.”

“Just check out the two on the top. Do it for me.”

Tightening her lips, she prepared for more of an assault,
thinking just a short time ago she thought she liked pain. Not this kind of
pain.

The folder held his medical records. Except this was no
racing drug test form. It was an injury report. Dated twenty-four years ago. It
listed him as seven years old, and admitted to the hospital with a bruised
spleen. A police report attached. The connotations were obvious.

“They paid for a whole new wing for that hospital.”

“Al, tell me those fucking people did not beat him.”

“They did. Whenever they felt it necessary. There are four
more just like it in there. There’s more.”

“Dear God.”

“Yeah, God ain’t got nothin to do with it, his family hid
behind that excuse already. Damn preacher my ass. He, well, he pretty much took
the hit for his brothers. Since he was the oldest, he took the beatings while
they were still young enough they couldn’t defend themselves. Made a deal with
his father.”

“A deal? His own father? To take beatings for his brothers.”

“Penance, his daddy called it. Got off on it too.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Al.”

“I know, baby, I know. They bolted soon as they could too,
but Grant made sure while they were still young that he stuck close to keep
them from getting what he got. You should see the shit in that file, kind of
like his own little paper trail of purgatory. Plus copies of his arrest
record.”

“Arrest record?”

“Seems Grant picked up a few of his daddy’s bad habits. Beat
one kid at his boarding school so bad he almost died. Recovered. Family got
rich too.”

“Where did you get this?”

“That big stupid man bag he drags all over with him. You
dumped it on my doorstep baby. This was all in there, the whole time. Kind of
like he hoped you might find it.”

“In his bag? The whole time?”

“Uh huh. Right here under your nose. So, either he was
hoping you’d look, or trusted you enough you wouldn’t.”

“I think he knew I wouldn’t.”

“Me too. Which is why I did. He finally got out from under
them, went to college, met a couple of friends who helped him put his ass
straight.”

“Nolo.”

“He told you about him? Well, then he started into the whole
extreme sports thing, was already doin’ a lot of it. That boy would push
himself, I think sometimes he was hoping he’d die from doing something stupid.
Then his family, they dragged him right back in, using him to front up looking
responsible, all clean, when his daddy got caught with the black man hooker.
Put the responsibility to save all their asses on Grant’s shoulders. It crushed
him, baby, he was mean.”

“He says he was, well, he was not someone I’d have liked. At
all.”

“That’s exactly true. Biggest asshole ever. Last few years,
he’s been trying to change that, but his family, well, the business mostly,
kept dragging him back. Finally, last year, he just bolted. Told them to kiss
his ass, went to New Zealand. Then he came here, you know the rest.”

“I can’t believe all this.”

“Girl, you know you need to go find him. He is in New
Zealand, case you are wondering, and far as I know, he ain’t comin’ back.”

“He wouldn’t want me to feel sorry for him, it would piss
him off. Besides that, well he still lied, so he hasn’t changed completely, has
he? Al, giving in to everything I think I know, to everything he told me was
right, that’s what got me in this mess.” Her emotions struggled within her,
despite her strong words.

“No, you aren’t in
any
mess, sweetie. Not one straw
out of place, here. You need to stop holding back. What you got was exactly
what you wanted, isn’t it? A sweet, very sexy man—and I know sexy men. He’s a
smart man that one, but he’s still a
man,
honey. Only problem you have,
is that he did what all men do, he tried to take the easy way out, and it
didn’t work. Can you see why now? He made a mistake, and for someone who went
through what he has, I’d think that’s pretty damn excusable. So how is that a
mess?”

She squared her jaw and cocked her eyebrow, looking at Al
like as if ought to know damn well why. “Because everything we had was a lie.”

“No, everything you had was
not
a lie. The only lie,
was that he has a different last name than he told you. And now all the garbage
attached to that last name he didn’t want you to see, it came and found him
anyway. And besides, he signed it all away. So what mess, honey, tell me what
mess you see here?”

“The mess that tells me I can’t be sure he is really who he
says, or, didn’t say. Shit, see? It doesn’t make sense. It feels like
everything we had between us was real, but how could that be when I didn’t even
know who he really was? What if, who he was before, comes back to the surface?”

“You know what? The man you are in love with, that is Grant
Callahan. You are the only person on this planet who knows who he really is,
because before he came here, shucked off that name and who everyone was forcing
him to be, well, he was never allowed to be that man. So the Grant that only you
know
is
the real man. The real deal. You’re the only person he trusted
enough to just be that person with. If I remember, isn’t that what he kept
saying that whole game was all about? It was supposed to be all about you, but
he was really doing it for himself too, honey. He’s the one who needed to learn
to be who he really is. He came here to hide, to run from everything he
couldn’t deal with. He didn’t have any idea he was going to end up finding
someone who could free him from all of that. You did that for each other. Now,
how much more real do you want it, sweetie?”