Picture Perfect (Butler Island) (24 page)

Grant.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. It was
just a bad dream…”

Olivia reached up and ran her
fingertips over the course stubble along his chin. “I hurt you”, she uttered
softly.

“I’m fine—it’s you I’m worried about…
Do you wanna talk about it?” Olivia shook her head. Cupping her face, he
whispered, “What can I do?”

“Just hold me…” Turning away from
him, she nestled her back against the solid wall of his chest.

His heart ached for her. What he
wouldn’t give to erase the horrid memories of that night. What he wouldn’t give
to slay the demons that haunted her dreams. Olivia was selfless, compassionate,
and courageous.

 A fighter.

 She would get past this with time;
he truly believed that. But that didn’t make witnessing her nightmares any
easier. She didn’t deserve this—no woman did—and he wished like hell he had the
words to sooth her weary mind; the power to erase the horrid memories from that
night.

Running his fingers through her hair,
he glanced at his alarm clock: half past three. Her breathing had slowed,
regaining a steady rhythm. He continued petting her, coaxing her into a deep,
peaceful sleep. The love he felt for the woman in his arms threatening to
burst.

“You still awake?” he whispered softly.
He waited a few moments and when she didn’t answer, the three words he’d never
spoken to anyone before rolled off his tongue like an endearing caress.
“I
love you…”

She’d been lying
in his arms, his magical hands
caressing her hair, blanketing her body in
safety. She felt valuable. Precious. Special. As the images of her nightmare
slowly began to fade, her body relaxed. She cherished the moment; memorized it.
The next time fear paralyzed her, she’d recall this moment.

“You still awake?”

Barely. So close—so
exhausted—she didn’t think
she’d even have the strength to answer. She
didn’t want to speak; she was safe. Nothing could penetrate this haven—

“I love you”,
he whispered.

Her body remained still, but her mind
was racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Their rela
tionship was supposed to remain casual. Fun. Emotion
less. He
didn’t mean it—
he couldn’t mean it!

He was just confused.

Yeah.

He felt guilty about what’d happened
to her and he was confusing his guilt with
love…
Oh, God, but what if he
wasn’t?

Olivia remained in his arms, her mind
too alert to return to sleep. She stared at the alarm clock,
the red illuminated numbers indicating it was
nearing
five o’clock. Things were getting too serious and she needed to
do something about it.

Carefully, she pried herself from
Grant’s arms and rolled away from him. She needed distance; couldn’t bear
waking in a few hours with his loving eyes staring into hers.

Quietly, she changed her clothes and
tiptoed out of his bedroom. She’d left her toiletries in the bathroom, but
she’d worry about that later. Right now, she needed to get as far from him as
she could.

Sensing her troubles, Dexter followed
her to the front door. “Sorry, boy”, she whispered as she knelt down to scratch
behind his ears, “Don’t take it personal. I’ve got to get goin’. Be a good boy
and go lie down.” She stood as Dexter trotted back to his favorite spot on the
overstuffed loveseat, his chocolate coat suddenly camouflaged against the brown
fabric.

Olivia opened the front door and then
glanced over her shoulder one last time. Just a few short hours ago, this had
been her safe haven. She was going to miss this place; miss Dexter’s greetings,
dinners on the deck overlooking the calm Gulf water, lying next to Grant in his
bed…

Grant.

Quietly, she closed the door behind
her and began the five block trek back home. The sooner she arrived, the sooner
she could fall to pieces.

The house was eerily quiet as she
dead-bolted the door behind her. For the first time since her attack, she was
alone… Images of that frightening night flashed through her mind as her eyes
traversed the dark living room. Suppressing the gruesome memories, she willed
herself to step forward.

Reaching the familiarity of her
childhood bedroom, she knelt down and reached for the black, leather-wrapped
scrapbook hidden beneath her an
tique canopy
bed: her “personal portfolio.” The corners
were beginning to wear, but
somehow she couldn’t find the strength within herself to replace it.

Opening the portfolio, she smiled at
the image staring back at her: her parents. It was the last family portrait
taken before their death. Ty was eighteen; she was eight. Her parents looked so
happy—little did they all know that less than six months later, everything
would forever change.

Turning the page, Olivia skimmed over
the newspaper clipping recounting her parents’ fatal car accident. They’d gone
to dinner in Downtown Atlanta. She remembered it was unusually cold that
mid-April evening and the remnants of two days worth of rain blanketed the roads
with a slick layer of moisture.

Her father had decided to take the
winding back roads instead of the four-lane highway… and so did the drunk
driver that hit them. It was a head-on collision. She learned later that her
parents had died instantly: one minute they were here, enjoying life, and the
next…

Olivia thumbed through the book, each
page another significant moment in her life. There were pictures of major
milestones like her thirteenth birthday party; photographs of gratifying
achievements like her college graduation; mementos from some of her darkest
times…

The newspaper clipping from eighteen
months ago represented one of those dark times…

One of her photographer friends had
set her up on a blind date with a local, well-known dentist. She’d just arrived
back into town after traveling to Missouri to photograph the rising flood
water. She’d been exhausted—wanted to cancel—but had ultimately decided against
it.

His name was Todd Zimmerman.

On the outside he was a very
attractive man: tall, dark hair, charcoal eyes, and a perfect smile. She never
suspected his good looks disguised a sly sexual predator.

She’d finished her third glass of
wine and had excused herself from the table, hoping a wet paper towel on her
face and neck would cool her heated skin. She’d just placed the cold compress
to her neck when she’d caught a glimpse of Todd standing behind her in the
mirror.

He’d covered her mouth, silencing her
scream. And then, his free hand began roaming over her body. He’d lifted her
skirt, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of her panties, when the
door suddenly swung open…

Another man had stumbled in—too drunk
to realize he’d entered the women’s restroom—but thankfully not too far gone to
come to her rescue.

Todd was
arrested, charged with sexual assault;
three days later, four brave women
came forward with similar stories…

The encounter caused her already
untrustworthy heart to become more guarded—that is until she’d met Grant.

He loved her.

And that scared her to death.
Everyone she’d ever allowed to get that close had left her in some way or
fashion: her parents—even Ty. As much as she disliked Cameron, she’d been happy
for her brother. He’d sacrificed so much to raise her and he deserved his
happiness, too. He’d always invited her home for the holidays, but she’d always
declined. He had a wife—a new family—and she wasn’t a part of it.

Olivia reached into her nightstand
and removed the picture she’d taken of her and Grant on the beach last month.
The corners of her mouth tilted upward as she recalled that day.

Grant loved her…

And she was falling for him
…

But it was only a matter of time
before he’d leave her like all the others had, too. As much as it pained her,
she had to walk away first. It was better this way; she gave up on “happily ever
after” a long time ago.

CHAPTER 20

Removing his key from the lock, Ty
opened the front door and tossed the mail on the small bureau in the foyer. He
drifted into the kitchen like a zombie, his body thirsting for caffeine—and
lots of it. He paused momentarily as he approached the coffeemaker.
Hmmm,
that’s odd… It was already on
…

Movement on the patio caught his
attention.

Olivia.

Storming through the French doors, he
rushed toward her. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted as he approached.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”
she asked as she raised her mug. “It’s a beautiful morning to—”

“You know that’s not what I
meant—you’re supposed to be with Grant!”

“You worry too much”, she uttered nonchalantly.

Crossing his arms over his chest, his
angry eyes bored into hers. “
Really?
You were nearly killed less than
two weeks ago—or don’t you remember…?

Pulling her knees into her chest, she
hugged her legs with her free hand. “Yeah, that’s the problem: I
do
remember… Look, I know you’re upset, but don’t be mad at Grant. I snuck out
earlier—he probably doesn’t even know—”

“What?”
he asked angrily. “How did you get home?
”

“Well, I walked.”

“Olivia!”
Ty sat down
across from her and pressed his thumb and index finger against his clenched
eyes. After inhaling a gallon of fresh morning air, he finally spoke again.
“Listen, I know everything.”

“You know
everything about
what
…?” she asked
confusedly.

“You and Grant—and let me tell ya:
I’m
not exactly thrilled about it!”

“Wait—how’d you?—”

“I figured it out at the hospital
when he came to visit you.” Leaning his arms on his knees, he
inched forward. “I swear to God, Liv, if he hurt
you—”

“He didn’t”, she assured him. “He’s
been really, really good to me, Ty… If anyone’s gonna get hurt, it’s gonna be
Grant…”

The soft red glow of the safe light
temporarily soothed her weary eyes; couldn’t say the same about her mind,
though. Her brain was so congested, overcrowded with questions she had no
answers to.

 Was her attacker still lurking in
the shadows, ready to pounce again?

 Did Grant
really
love her?

 Did she have the strength to end
their relationship?

 Could she pretend she wasn’t falling
for him, too?

So. Many. Questions…

She didn’t want to think about that
right now. In fact, she didn’t want to think about anything. Switching her mind
to its automatic pilot mode, she poured fixer solution into the basin in front
of her. The best part of developing her own film?—she could almost do it with
her eyes closed, which meant she didn’t have to think at all…

Opening the back of her ancient 35mm
camera, she removed the film. And that’s when she heard it: four loud knocks.
“Who is it?” she asked, already knowing who stood on the other side.

“It’s me, Grant.”

“The door shut behind you?”

“Yeah.”

Olivia reached for the knob, unlocked
the door, and then retraced her steps back to the counter where she’d been
working. She needed to keep her hands busy. The last time he’d visited her
darkroom, she’d ended up against the door with her legs wrapped around his
waist.

“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?” he questioned sternly.

Her back still turned, she answered,
“What does it look like I’m doing?—I’m developing film.”

Bracing his hands on either side of
her on the counter, he stood behind her. “You know what I mean. I woke up this
morning and panicked when you weren’t there. I was about to call the police
when Ty called and said you’d walked home earlier. Are you out of your fucking
mind?”

“My mind has never been clearer”, she
lied.

“You could’ve been hurt!”

“I’m perfectly fine, Grant.”

Lowering his head, he released a
heavy sigh. “Cut the bullshit, Livvy. I’m not buying it… You don’t have to act
tough around me.”

“I’m not acting”, she lied again. She
really needed to stop that.

Gripping her arms, he spun her
around. “Yes, you are! Look at me…” He watched as her eyes danced around,
landing on various objects before hesitantly connecting with his. “You’re doing
it again”, he uttered softly.