Home > My True Love (The Steeles at Silver Island #2)(7)

My True Love (The Steeles at Silver Island #2)(7)
Author: Melissa Foster

“You don’t get it. You think everyone can just be happy, turn it on like a switch,” he snapped, angry at himself for spewing his venomous frustration at Jules, mad at Jules for pushing him, and livid at the fucking IED that blew his leg away and annihilated his future. He strode toward her, stopping inches away, teeth clenched. “Well, guess what, Jules, life doesn’t work that way.”

She looked like she was going to cry, and that brought a world of guilt crashing down on him.

“I know life doesn’t work that way! But you have to start somewhere, and then maybe, eventually, you’ll find your way again.” She stepped closer, their bodies touching, her eyes pleading. “Otherwise where does that leave you?” she asked softly. “Where does it leave your family and friends? You’re not meant to be this angry, unhappy guy, Grant. You’re just stuck.”

“No shit, I’m stuck. I’m meant to be on a mission with a gun in my hand, fighting for my country, saving lives.” Anger roared out before he could rein it in. “That’s the life and the future I was supposed to have. But I’m stuck on this fucking island, unable to fight, living in a body I resent, with everyone telling me I’m a goddamn hero. Well, guess what, Jules? I’m no hero, and all the happy dust in the world isn’t going to fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you! I’m trying to help you see what you’re missing!”

“Jules?” her sister Leni hollered from the edge of the parking lot. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she shouted, her voice cracking.

“Hurry up! We’re going into the vines!”

“I’m coming!” Jules crossed and uncrossed her arms, holding Grant’s stare, her chest rising with every heavy breath, anger rolling over her in waves. “I know you think I’m ridiculous, but I don’t care. I survived cancer for a reason, and maybe that reason is to help other people gain perspective, or maybe I am ridiculous for wanting everyone to be as happy as I am. All I know is that while I’m past the riskiest years for another type of cancer to develop, cancer is a fickle beast, and it could come for me or anyone else tomorrow, next year, or in a decade. But at least I’ll know that I enjoyed every minute I was given. You have lost a heck of a lot, Grant, and I’m not trying to minimize that. But you’re still here, and I’m not going to let you bury yourself alive.”

“Don’t waste your energy on me, Pix,” he warned. “I’ll only ruin you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

She managed the sweetest smile despite his arrogance, and that cut him to his core.

“I know you want to get back in your truck and drive away, but I hope you won’t.” She threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I’m going to enjoy the party. I hope to see you there.”

He watched her storm away in that barely there costume and high heels and ground out, “Fuck.”

He damn well wanted to get in the truck and drive away, but Jules was right. He owed it to Bellamy to make an appearance. He headed across the grass toward the party, noises pummeling him from all directions, tension mounting as partygoers began looking over.

“Grant!” Bellamy ran toward him in a gold-fringed minidress with a short fake-fur wrap around her shoulders. She threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

She beamed up at him, and that smile made the shit he was dealing with worth the discomfort. He guessed he owed it to her to try to have a good time, despite feeling like hell for yelling at Jules. “Hey, squirt. Your haircut looks cute.”

“Thanks! I just cut it today. I love your zombie makeup.” She led him toward the patio. “Jules is the best, isn’t she? I can’t believe she got you to come.”

He could think of about ten ways he’d like Jules to make him come. It suddenly struck him that Bellamy was the same age as Jules, twenty-five to his thirty-three.

He clenched his teeth. Fucking Jules in that cock-hardening outfit, sitting on his lap like she belonged there, looking at him all starry-eyed, making him think and feel things he shouldn’t.

“She always knows what to do and say,” Bellamy said excitedly. “I’m sure you made her night. She was determined to get you here.”

After the way he’d treated her, he had a feeling Jules was regretting her efforts.

Keira marched over in a too-damn-short leather-like minidress with a thick leather belt and fur boots. Her light-brown hair was tangled and messy, and she had dark makeup around her eyes, fake blood dripping from her mouth, and several big red slashes on her neck. “Nice of you to grace us with your presence.” She was feisty, always giving him hell for something.

“Yeah, yeah. What are you supposed to be, and why is your skirt so short?”

Keira pointed to the blood on her neck. “I’m a barbarian who got gashed by a bear’s claws. If you ever came out of your dune shack, you’d know that my girlfriends and I are dressed up as barbarians, and some of our guy friends are dressed up as wild animals.”

After spending years navigating life-and-death missions, Grant had little patience for talking about nonsense, which in the past he’d thought of as sports and who was dating whom. Now he added Halloween costumes to the list.

His sisters dragged him around the party, and it was like a freaking island reunion. Everyone was dressed in costumes. There were couples dancing and little kids darting around. He spotted his parents on the dance floor beside Brant’s parents. His father nodded toward him seconds before Bellamy pulled him in another direction. He said hello as people asked how he was like they were afraid of his answer. He knew they meant well, but their careful inquiries amplified the differences that already consumed him. It was impossible to miss the glances at his leg. He should have come as a peg-legged pirate and exposed his prosthesis. He was so damn sick of people dancing around the topic.

Brant came through the crowd dressed as Dracula, his thick dark hair slicked back from his face. Wells, the joker of Grant’s family, was right behind him. Like Grant, Wells took after their father, athletically built with dark hair and eyes, and he’d clearly lost his mind. He was wearing chaps over jeans, a leather vest with no shirt under it, a red bandanna around his neck, and a leather cowboy hat.

Grant scoffed. “You’ve got to be freezing your ass off.”

“I’ll be hot later. The ladies are eating this shit up, and I hear there’s a yacht full of hot chicks at the Silver Harbor Marina. I might have to check them out.” Wells handed him a beer.

“Thanks.” Grant took a swig of the beer.

“All right, girls, you’ve had your fun,” Wells said. “Grant needs some guy time.”

Grant needs to go the fuck home.

“Fine.” Bellamy hugged Grant. “Thanks for coming. I know they’ll monopolize you for the rest of the night.”

“Who are you kidding? He’ll ditch them in ten minutes and go home.” Keira kissed Grant’s cheek. “I’m glad you showed up. I love you, butthead.”

“You too, sis.” The girls disappeared into the crowd, and Grant said, “Where’s Fitz?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he got lured into the vines by a sexy zombie.” Wells waggled his brows.

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