Tempting Gray - Untouchables 02 (3 page)

3:04
a.m.

Grayson sat in his SUV watching his house. Time
ticked on to the early morning hours. The sun would rise soon, and Winston’s
blood had long dried on his hands.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he came
home and went inside like normal people do. No, he did this now. Came home when
it was the last place he wanted to be and copped a squat in the front seat
chain smoking like a damn stalker.

It made his head hurt looking at the oversized
pile of bricks that was his house and knowing Anita would have some new shit
going on. It was always like that.

He pulled out his pack of Sobranie Black
Russians and lit on up, the black end flaring red. The smooth burn chafed his
throat in a familiar, comforting way. He jerked his gaze away from the house
and settled in to enjoy his smoke and stare at nothing and everything. These
were his only moments of peace—the calm before the storm. He took a long
sucking pull from his cig and held it in, letting the burn grow in his lungs
until his throat couldn’t hold it anymore.

An explosion of shattering glass broke his
quiet solitude like a car wreck. He jumped out of his vehicle and sprinted
across the lawn, the cigarette a smoldering twig on the street.

Curses and screams came from inside the house.
Gray peered at what had flown through the window. The bassinet. His heart sank
with pronounced gravity.
No.
He couldn’t rush inside fast enough. Gray
threw the front door open, scanned left and right finding the usual—empty
bottles, ashtray overflowing with butts, the air stale and musty.

“Anita!” he roared.

Another crash, glass shattering.
Please let
her stop
.

He flew into the hallway, stared down it for
one long moment. Shock registered, then horror.

Not the nursery.

The door was open, light on. More glass
shattered as he stalked inside, hands beginning to shake. Anita was running to
the bookcase, stacking her arms full of little cardboard books with bright
colorful pictures, animals, and big block letters on them. Her eyes were red,
tearstained, clothes dirty. She panted in her struggle.

“Anita, stop.” His kept his voice hard. Had to.
It was the only way she’d take notice of him.

She jerked but didn’t turn to look at him. She
ran to the window, shoving the little books out onto the lawn. The window was
shattered from where she’d thrown the bassinet through it. She turned but moved
too quickly and fell. Not that falling stopped her. Anita crawled her way to
the toy chest and grabbed fistfuls of plastic blocks and fuzzy animals,
throwing them at the window as if her life depended on ridding the room of
these objects. Some went outside, others just hit the wall and landed on the ground.

“Anita…” he tried again, suddenly feeling tired
down to his bones like an old man. A man who’d lost his fight a long time ago.
A man who just wanted to sit down in peace and quiet and not think about
anything. Not a single thing.

The sobs started. Hard, wracking cries that
shook her shoulders and she howled like a dying animal. Once upon a time that
sound undid him, brought him to his knees. Now? He crossed his arms at her
antics.

“Stop this now. How did you even get in here?”

More tears, more sobs. She keeled over, burying
her face into the carpet, her fists beating the floor clumsily. Then she looked
up at him, only she wasn’t looking. Her eyes were closed, reddened and wet. “I
found it! I…found it. Why you, why you wanna keep me out of here? Like I don’t
belong in here? Like this isn’t my room too? Like it never happened!” she
hissed. She spoke in a soft, erratic way like her thoughts and mouth weren’t
exactly on par with each other.

He bit the inside of his cheek until the skin
gave way and coppery blood filled his mouth. “I hid it because I knew if you
found it you’d do this. Do you see what you’ve done! Look, look around
yourself, ’Nita.”

But did she do that? Did she ever take any kind
of responsibility for her actions? Hell no. The alcohol wouldn’t let her.

She struggled to stand, having to cling to the
side of the crib to pull herself up. Her sobs subsided. “It’s always my fault.
Always, always, always. Well, where were you, Gray? Where were you?”

His eyes slammed shut as he crunched harder on
the skin in his mouth, mangling it. “I was at work. You know that.”

A strangled sound, part sob, part snort. “That’s
not what I’m talking about and you know it. Where were you that night, huh? You
think you’re so good, so much better than me.”

Years of practice allowed him to hide his
expression. “You know where I was.”

“Do I?” she asked, her low-lidded,
slow-blinking eyes leveling on him with surprising clarity.

He shook his head once. “Get out of here. I
gotta clean this mess up now.”

When he tried to escort her from the room, she
jerked away from his touch which sent her wobbling. “Nooo, nooooo! Leave me
with my babies. Leave me alone.”

Shit. Her eyes were watering fast and if he
couldn’t stop the deluge now then he wouldn’t for the rest of the night. “
 
’Nita, let me get you
to bed. Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you cleaned up and fresh.”

She shook her head like a child, her matted
hair slapping side to side. Then the keening began—a loud, gut-piercing sound
that was somewhere between a child’s cry and a woman in agony. She grabbed
handfuls of his shirt, buried her face in it. He hesitated for a moment before
wrapping his arms back around her.

“You’ll leave me too. I know you want to,” she
said between hysterical cries.

His heart pinched, nose tingled and he hugged
her harder. Hugged the shell of a woman who used to light his life up; who now
darkened it.

“Don’t leave me, Gray. I don’t have anyone
left.”

He kissed her temple, rubbed a pattern up and
down her back. “I’m not going anywhere, ’Nita. I’m right here.”

When her knees gave out, he lifted her into his
arms and took her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed. She didn’t want to
let him go but he tucked a pillow in her arms and she rolled into him, crying
silently now.

After some time he went to move away but she
held tight to his hand. “Don’t leave me, Gray. I love you.”

Containing a ragged sigh, he sat on the corner
of the bed holding her hand. “I’m not gonna leave you, ’Nita.” That was the
truth. She and he were inseparable. They were connected by too many events, too
many miseries which had brought them closer together in ways he couldn’t have
predicted.

He couldn’t lie to her about the other part.
The part he wasn’t sure about anymore, the part that had guilt eating away at
him like a parasite.

Anita’s head sank into the pillow with her
mouth hanging wide open as she passed out. Grayson slowly retracted his hand
and stood. He gazed over his mate for a long time, seeing the past, the
present, and future in her.

It may make him a guilty asshole, but he’d
stopped loving her a long time ago.

That woman he’d loved was gone, buried beneath
layers of pain and depression. When he blinked, he was surprised to feel
wetness at the corner of his eye. He wiped the stray tears away with the palm
of his hand and left his mate’s side.

The following day Grayson called to hire more
security at home. He wasn’t worried about the Donato family, but he wouldn’t
take any risks to Anita.

Grayson showered and dressed before Anita woke
up and got the hell out of that hole. As he drove away from that shit-storm he
dialed his therapist—Rudy Katz. He had the doc on speed dial. That’s how often
he talked to this asshole. And, yeah, he was an asshole. Grayson didn’t care
because the man helped or at least pretended to help him.

Rudy’s secretary answered in on the second
ring, sounding polite and cool as always. “Dr. Rudy Katz’s office. This is Mary
speaking. How may I help you?”

“It’s Grayson. I need to see Rudy.”

A weary sigh. She knew him. She didn’t like
him. That didn’t surprise him. “Mr. Blackmoore, it’s very nice to hear from you
this evening.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“I’m afraid Dr. Katz is all booked up for this
evening but there is an opening two days from now. Say at 8:30? Would that be
possible for you?”

Grayson lit up a cig and almost laughed. “I’m
twenty minutes away. How about when I get there you let me in to see him.”

“Really, Mr. Blackmoore, Dr. Katz appreciates
your business but it’s not fair to other clients for you to take their
appointments.”

“You think it’s gonna be a problem, ask him.”
Silence. Damn right, he thought. She knew Rudy would drop all of his
appointments tonight if Grayson wanted him to. They went way back. Friends and
all that shit.

“All right, Mr. Blackmoore. We’ll see you in
twenty,” Mary said, her voice heavy with disapproval.

“Good answer.” He hung up.

Grayson popped the middle console open and
grabbed a bottle of AB. The blood tasted like paper on his tongue, but
supposedly it nourished him. Nothing ever tasted good anymore. Not the fine
stuff laced with fine red wine that his brother Dominic loved, not even Grayson’s
own favorite—B positive. Nothing tasted good anymore. Hadn’t for a long time.
Such was life for him. Grayson like his name. Dismal and gloomy.

He arrived in twenty minutes as predicted. Mary
gave him a polite smile and escorted him into the doc’s office.

Dr. Rudy Katz had a big belly that hung over
his expensive trousers and a leather belt with a gold buckle that glinted off
the light from the lamp. He always wore a bow tie and a button up
white-collared shirt. Ever the professional. Rudy had several specialties which
is how Gray came into his services.

For one, Rudy didn’t talk bullshit or at least
not much of it. Two, he was a vampire so he understood Gray better than any
human or Were could. And three, Rudy specialized in alcoholism and other
addictions.

“Grayson, you’re looking more morose than usual
this evening. What’s happened?”

Grayson lit up another smoke, sucking hard
until it burned his throat like acid. “She found the key to the nursery. She
got in there and made a mess of everything. Threw the bassinet out the window,
the toys, the books. All of it. After I got her to pass out I cleaned
everything up and hid the key in a different place—on my key ring.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Rudy said.

“Yeah, maybe.” And here it was. The moment of
truth. The reason why he came here. But Grayson struggled to say the words
aloud—
I failed a client and now he’s a corpse because of me.
“Just a bad
night…” Grayson said.

“When is there ever a good night with her?”
Rudy asked.

His jaw clenched at the question. This is what
he liked and loathed about Rudy. He knew Grayson hated the bullshit so Rudy
played it straight; however, the upfront attitude was so on-the-nose honest it made
Gray want to take a bite out of the bastard.

“Not in a long time.”

“Have you been thinking about what I said?”

That’s it. He couldn’t sit still any longer. He
knifed to a stand and paced, skimming his hand over his short-cropped hair. “Yeah.
I can’t do it. Can’t do it.”

Rudy sighed. “You
have
to do it. It’s
the only way she’ll hit bottom. It’s the only way any addict will learn. You
must leave her. You must take everything you’ve ever given her away if she
refuses treatment. If you don’t, this path of destruction will never stop.”

Grayson pressed his forehead against the wall
and squeezed his eyes shut until his eyes burned from the pressure. “You have
no idea what you’re asking. She’s my
bruid.
My mate. I love her still.”
Maybe not as much as he should, but he would always love his mate.

There was a long silence as his thoughts
churned.

“She may be your mate but we know that’s only
in name. It’s been that way for how long now? Why must you punish yourself for
her crimes?”

“Watch your mouth!” Grayson’s eyes snapped at
Rudy, a warning.

Rudy threw up his hands. “I didn’t mean any
offense, of course. I know you prefer honesty, Grayson, so that’s what I’m
giving you. It’s been a mating in name only for, what, ten years now?”

“Twelve,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Addiction is a terrible disease, my friend. I’m
telling you that because she’s never going to get well if you keep enabling
her.”

In a flash of movement, Gray had Rudy by the
throat, his back slammed against the wall. “Fuck you! I’m not helping her be
like this. I
hate
that she’s like this. I want her back.”

Rudy spoke in a pinched voice. “Whether or not
you see it, you are enabling her. She has all your money to purchase alcohol.
She has that big house with bitter memories of two miscarriages lingering in
the form of a permanently locked nursery door. She has nothing but time to sit
and stew and drink herself into oblivion. You give her that support. You give
her everything she needs to keep herself depressed and sick. That is the truth,
Grayson, whether you realize it or not.”

Gray jerked back several steps feeling as
though he’d been hit with a shotgun blast to the chest. It was his fault. Of course
it was. It always was. He’d been born a bastard and would always be one. Unshed
tears came to his eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Rudy’s face softened. “You must level with her.
Offer her the treatment at my rehab facility and tell her what will happen if
she doesn’t take it. You must go through with it. If she says no you have to
kick her out of the house, take away all financial support.
All
support
unless she agrees to treatment.”

It felt like there was an arm shoved down his
throat ripping his heart out. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I love
her.”

Rudy nodded gently. “I know, but if you don’t,
we’ll be having this same conversation next year, the year after, and the year
after. Forever, Gray. The alcohol won’t kill her as a vampire. But she’ll
forever be sick and the longer she’s sick with it, the longer it takes to
recover. She can be well again, Gray, but it’s not up for you to decide that.
It’s up to her. You have to realize that she may never choose to be well again.”

Gray lit another cigarette, wishing it was weed
or something stronger to make him forget all this for a little while. “Listen,
I know I need to do it. But I don’t even know where to start.” He glanced at
Rudy, tired.

Rudy took a seat, absently rubbing at his
throat. “Start by telling her about the rehab, show her the pamphlets I gave
you. Tell her what it can be like again. More importantly, explain to her what
you’re going to do if she says no. Kick her out onto the street. No apartment
set-up, no financial allowance. Take everything away from her.”

“Yeah…yeah.” Gray sat in a leather sofa chair
and hung his head. His body hurt. His bones felt brittle and old, used up. Some
days, days like today and yesterday, he didn’t even want to be here. What was
the point of his existence anymore? He used to have a mate to love and cherish
and he’d done that. Those had been the happiest years of his life. But now? He
knew he still loved her, that’s why he couldn’t push her away so easily. But
that warmth between them had long turned to ice.

Gray laughed, the sound bitter. “You know she’ll
turn to the first man she can sink her fingers into. She’ll fuck him, suck him,
let his friends fuck her, anything to keep getting booze. How am I supposed to
send her out there knowing she’s gonna do this?” His stomach spasmed at the
very idea, nearly making him heave. Crossing his arms did nothing to alleviate
the stress or pain. Hell, he actually broken out in a cold sweat instead.

“She might do all those things. Or none of
them. We can’t predict how she’ll react, but eventually something terrible will
happen and whether she will find herself alone in a cold, unfamiliar place, it
won’t be a good place to be. She’ll wake up, Grayson. She’ll wake up and
realize whether or not she does want to live. All we can hope for is that she
chooses yes.”

Eyes burned from a mixture of stinging tears
and cigarette smoke irritation. He scrubbed the palms of his hands into his
eyes and rubbed hard. “Yeah…yeah. I’ll think about it.”

Rudy sighed. “You’ve been thinking about it for
months now. Stop thinking about it and do it. The longer you wait, the longer
she’ll stay sick on your conscious. This is her disease, not yours. The person
who can fight it is her. If she has the will. She’s selfish now and you must
push her away, like pulling a tick off, so that she may learn to fend for
herself. That’s the only chance she has of turning her life around.”

Grayson stood, unable to keep still. These
sessions never made him feel any better. Why the fuck did he even come? “Yeah…you
make it sound so fucking easy. If it was easy I’d already have done it.”

Rudy crossed to him. Up close, Grayson could
see the dark brown mole above his right temple. Rudy placed a hand on his
shoulder. “Yes, but see you are stronger than her. And she needs you to be. She
needs you to make her go to rehab or push her out of your life. It’s the only
way either of you can go on with your lives.”

“Same old story. Same old answers,” Grayson
finally said after a while.

Grayson left without a word. Mary sputtered a
farewell and he didn’t utter a single word, couldn’t.

He knew he was an idiot for not listening to
Rudy’s advice. He
knew
it. And yet, why couldn’t he go home and simply
put his mate out onto the streets? He wanted to…in a way. The bigger part of
him had always been the protector that part of him still needed to take care of
her, not shove her into danger. And that was the crux of his problem.

But he knew, just as Rudy knew, that the only
way to get on with any semblance of life was to do the very thing he went
against—and feed his mate to the dogs.

“Fucking hell.” Now, how was he supposed to go
about doing that?