“Liv!” a voice shouts and, by the way my body and heart responds, I instantly know who it is.
“G-Grey?” I slowly lift my head as if this is another one of the doctor’s tests. But it isn’t. It’s true. Grey is standing at the door, frozen in what I think is shock or anger, maybe a mixture. But I am frozen in pure relief and happiness. “Grey!”
I jump to my feet and run over to him. I almost slip and slide because of how heavy my limbs feel. But seeing his outstretched arms and that wide, relieved smile of his pushes me to suck it up and run harder. I finally collide against his hard chest and jump up, latching my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He holds me and nearly chokes me in a tight hug while breathing heavily in one whoosh. Like he hasn’t been breathing until this very moment.
My heart sags.
It just hit me how he must have felt so wracked with a lot of emotions upon my disappearance. He can be very dependent when he wants as a result of his abandonment issues, first with his mother, then David. He feels as if everyone is leaving him, and I know he’s scared of being alone. And to find me gone, he must have lost it. I never want him to feel alone or hopeless. I want him to know that I will never leave him. I will never hurt him, and I will never stop loving him.
“Oh my God, I was losing my fucking mind, princesa,” he admits in a groggy, tight voice, like he’s been crying.
I hug him harder and kiss his neck; he shudders in response. “Me too,” I admit in a sigh, closing my eyes tightly and breathing in his scent—my home.
“I am going to fucking murder your mother,” he growls, his hands tightening around me.
“No, just—please, take me home?” I pull my head back and cup the side of his face, rounding my finger in his dimple, closing my eyes as I let my body re-connect with his, like I’d been detached from my oxygen tank. “Take me home, Grey.”
***
Grey
I am fucking livid. What kind of fucking mother does this to their daughter, their child? The minute I had my girl back in my arms, all my dread and worry over her safety had flushed away. But anger flared up when she dropped her hands like I was going to hurt her and revealed her paling face and heavy blue eyes that were kind of dull, lifeless. I had never wanted to twist someone’s fucking neck so badly in my entire life. But I just held onto my princess and thanked whatever mysterious force that she was breathing and still able to smile, even if it looked as broken as her voice sounded.
I put her in the bath tonight. I whispered sweet nothings and commanded her to not speak and rest her hoarse, practically destroyed voice. I gently washed her body and hair. She looked like a beautiful angel as I touched her soft as silk skin and listened to her soft humming. My body yearned to be close to her, but not through sex. Just to be wrapped around her, protecting her from any threat. And that was what I did.
I was wrapped around her, her little body dressed in my black shirt. I had brushed her hair and fell asleep with her plump lips against my bare chest, hair smelling like strawberries and vanilla. I never wanted to let go.
But, of fucking course, my phone rang like the little bitch it is.
“Fuck me,” I groan, craning my neck to look at the buzzing thing on the table beside me. I peer down at my girl, knocked out and content, arms wrapped around me, tongue pressed against me. She looks like a fucking kitten. I smirk, but then the annoying buzzing ruins the fucking moment.
I grab it and lowly bark into the phone. “What the fuck do you want?” I hadn’t looked at the caller ID; I just want to tell this fucking person off and get back to dreamland.
“Might want to lose your tone with me,” Dean sneered.
I sigh. “It’s, like, two in the morning.” I pinch my nose bridge, trying my best not to lash out at this very dangerous man.
“I don’t give a shit. I want you here; there’s a huge fuck-load shipment coming in an hour. I want you by the dock, prepared for…” His words are lost on me. They go in one ear and fly out of the other. Honestly, it just sounds like gibberish at this point. And I can barely decipher it.
My focus is locked on my little princess that needs and deserves me more than this fucking douche-asshole.
“Fuck you and fuck the shipment,” I grit through the phone.
A pause.
“Excuse me…” he snarls.
“You heard me. Lose my number—I’m out. Now I gotta get back to my girl.” I hang up, turn off my phone, and toss it back on the table. What I just did will definitely backfire on my ass and I will be in major shit, but I don’t care anymore. Dean and that stupid fucking gang are not my priority. They never have been, nor will they ever be. I have someone who is more important to me laying on me, clutching me like I am her entire world as she is mine.
I kiss her head for a long moment, savoring her scent and picturing my life with her, content and so fucking perfect. Home. She is and will always be my home.