July 28

Loon Call Island, Lake Rosseau, Muskoka

Walking through the woods at night might give some people the chills, but I love walking through the dark forest. I love listening to the owls hoot, the nocturnal animals come out to forage. I love the shadows shifting in the dark.

It's a fifteen-minute walk down the backside of the cliff, across the field, and through the woods to Elle's cabin from mine. Normally, I'd walk the shoreline, but I'd rather not be noticed by her parents. It's late enough that they should be asleep, but I don't take any chances.

After this summer, I could do the hike blindfolded.

Elle's lights are dimmed, but still on, so I know she's awake. My knuckles and lip are screaming, raw, bloody from the cuts I'd tried to clean.

I'd had a bag of frozen vegetables on my face for a couple of hours listening to the lecture Mom had to dish out on fighting. Even after I explained, although she had cooled down a bit, she still dished out the lecture. I guess I deserved it. All I got from Dad was a small nod before he turned away, retreating to his study for the night. Think he has a different opinion to Mom but knew better than to say it.

I was surprised by even the small acknowledgment he gave me, though. Somehow that nod felt like an approval of sorts. It's the closest thing I've gotten to interest from him all summer.

Sliding the screen door closed behind me, I leave the glass door mostly open, letting the breeze roll through, even though she already has the ceiling fans going. I lock the small screen latch and head to her bedroom. When I find it empty, I frown.

Her king-size bed is turned partially down. For the hundredth time, I idly wonder why she has such a large bed, considering she uses like one-fifth of it when she sleeps. Even when I'm curled up with her, she's pressed as close as she can get.

The fluffy duvet is peeled back at the corner in a crisp triangle, and I know already that her neatly folded sheets will last all of five minutes.

Elle likes to pull the blankets around her from every direction, curling into a little ball while she sleeps, yet she's a compulsive bed maker, unlike me. I just don't see the point, but then again, Elle's bed always looks so welcoming, so clean and comfortable with her mountain of pillows and knit blankets she's forever tangled up in.

Turning back, I wander out onto her porch, still no Elle. Grabbing a cold can out of the fridge, I sit on the sofa, tipping my head back and pressing it to my cheek.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opens, and she walks out, gasping in surprise, one hand flying up to her heart. She's wearing a small one-piece silk coverup or something. Her hair is damp, brushed back from her face. She looks so much younger, so much sweeter, so innocent.

"I didn't hear you come in." She drops a kiss onto my forehead, pulling the can away to check my cheek herself, frowning. "Ouch."

She walks away from me, back to the bathroom, pulling out a first aid kit from under the sink. She cracks another temporary ice pack to chill it down, handing it to me with a small face cloth. I press it to my lip and jaw. "I might have to stock up on these if you're going to make this a habit."

"Sit with me." I am desperate for her touch, the comfort it brings, and the soothing presence of her body close to mine.

"Let me just look at your hand first, then I will." Her soft voice is soothing, a balm to my raw nerves.

I let her take my right hand in hers, and she turns it over, examining my knuckles. She wipes my one cracked knuckle quickly with an alcohol swab, and I bite back a curse. Once she's done this torturous process, she cleans her own hands again, then takes the antiseptic, applying it gently to my broken skin.

She places a small kiss on my knuckle. Once she's finished, I pull her towards me, nudging her to settle down, straddling my lap, facing me. She settles herself down on my thighs, reaching up to thread her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes in bliss, easily pushing the pain away from my mind to absorb her gentle touch.

She traces small, light patterns over my face, tracing the side of my mouth that isn't battered and bruised. The soft touch makes me smile a little, and I hiss at the sudden pain that causes in my lip.

Elle immediately snatches her hand away, but I take her wrist in my hand and place her hand back against my cheek, rubbing against her. God, I crave her. Nothing makes me feel more at peace than when she's here, touching me.

Her hands are in my hair again, moving down the back of my neck, kneading the muscles there. She slides her hands into my loose button-down to knead my chest and shoulders. I groan at the pure, simple pleasure of it. I let her unbutton my shirt, sliding it free of my arms, and she works her way across my shoulders, down my arms, kneading the backs of my arms, my forearms before working her way across my chest.

I stand, lifting her in my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist before walking to the bedroom. I hit the master light switch on the way by, sending the entire cabin into darkness.

Setting Elle down on her side of the bed, I kick off my shorts and climb next to her. She immediately snuggles up to me, resting her head on my bare chest. Her small hands trace designs and figure eights across my skin, and I watch her through half-closed eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" Her whisper is shy, uncertain.

"If I say no, are you going to ask me, anyway?" I whisper back, waiting.

"Yes, probably. At least until you change your mind."

Sighing, I give her a squeeze. "Then I'll save us both the trouble. Ask away."

"What's on your mind. I'm trying to understand what made you so upset, the words, the actions, his taunting, but you're not exactly easy to read."

I know what she wants, but I don't say anything, not yet.

"This isn't the first time I've seen you lose your temper like this, or struggle to control your temper, really. From what I can see, I think it has something to do with pressure in general. I saw it first with me, then Mads, now Dan. I want to know why you were so angry when Craig left, why you were so angry with me about the stupid kissing game. What exactly set you off today?"

She sure is observant. I guess we're getting to the 'letting her in' portion of the summer. Sighing, I wrap my arms more tightly around her, resting my cheek on her hair, keeping her gaze off my face so I can think without drowning in her eyes. I'm not surprised she's connected the dots, she knows me better than anyone.

"I don't really know how to explain it. It's not only my story. It's something that's always made me crazy, like literally insane. For years now. I can't stand the idea of someone's choices being taken away, not physically, not emotionally. I hate to see people pressure others or target them. I just see red when I find someone bigger, stronger, or just anyone dominating someone in an unfair way."

"When I saw Dan manhandling you, even after you said stop, I went a little nuts. I was trying to walk away, though, when he said what he said. Well, then you saw the rest. But still, I walked away, for you."

"I wish you could've walked away, all the way away, even after he said what he said. If I had been in real physical trouble, Greyson, I would never question you stepping in, like you did today before it turned violent. But words are only words, and today, with you and Hunter there, the worst that could have happened would probably have been me getting dumped in the lake. He never would have gotten me on his bike, anyway. Not with the way you and Hunter were looking. I need you to try to remember that."

"That's not always the worst that could happen. You need to remember that. Even if it was only the lake today, what if he did something worse next time? To you when we weren't around, or to someone else? Someone without anyone looking out for them?"

There's no way I could have walked away, I just don't know how to explain it without scaring her away. "I don't exactly have full control, not when I'm in that state of mind, Elle." I'll admit that, to her, at least.

When she says nothing, I continue, "It's a scary thing, losing control of your own actions. When I get that mad, that feeling pushes me to react, and I can't always control it. What happened with Chiara at Mads', with Craig, it probably feels like a lot, for you, for Mads, but that's nothing, compared to what can happen if you aren't careful. I don't want to scare you, but you have to look out for yourself, speak up for yourself. Always. I wish I didn't have to say it, it's just how it is sometimes."

I close my eyes as the memories flood back through me, "A couple years ago, Brodie brought Tess home from a party, she'd been trapped in a closet by her so-called friends with this guy she didn't know, or particularly like, all for a stupid game of seven minutes in heaven."

"He went at her, crossing the line in so many ways. If Brodie hadn't heard all the commotion from her classmates, hadn't heard her begging to be let out, I don't know what would have happened. When he came home, his hands were cracked open, knuckles bloody, one black eye. He broke the door down with his hands, his shoulder, I think, since it was locked and the girls swore they didn't have the key. He doesn't really talk about it, but the other kid went home in an ambulance. I think Brodie was lucky no one pressed charges."

Since I've already gone this far, I continue in a softer voice, "The worst part of it all is that I was so angry Brodie had been the one to defend her. I was beyond grateful to him, of course, but I wanted to smash my own fists into that kid's face. I wanted the relief that comes from taking action. Instead, all I could do was hold my sister when she cried herself to sleep for weeks. Her friends made fun of her, that boy spread rumors about her, they targeted her at every opportunity; eventually, she only spent time with Steph and Brodie. Well, our small gang too, of course. But we were safe. She's never really opened up since then."

Elle's horrified gasp fills my ears. "Greyson, was Tess okay?"

"She wasn't raped if that's what you're asking. But no, she wasn't okay, not for a while. Her friends betrayed her, a stranger nearly violated her. Her choice was taken away by a stupid game and peer pressure."

"Now, it's just a permanent trigger for me, and I can lose it in the blink of an eye. It's something I'll never tolerate. Not from anyone." Not even family pressure, family expectation. I can deal with it myself, but if I ever see Dad treat Tess the way he treats me, I'll stop him, no matter what, no matter how.

She fights my firm grip to roll over and look down at me, her small hands lying flat on my chest. As she looks into my eyes, the only thing I see is compassion, understanding. I see no judgment, no horror, no fear. I let the breath I didn't know I'd been holding out and tuck her head under my chin.

"Thank you for telling me, Greyson. I know you think everyone believes you're this wild, dangerous boy, but I know you, so do your friends. I'm not scared of you. You're a protector, nothing more." Her soft whisper wraps around me as she presses her lips to the soft skin of my chest, just above my heart.

I tighten my arms around her, pulling her closer, pressing the good side of my mouth against her temple. I'm not exactly tired, more restless. Her hand begins its slow, lazy figure eights again across my chest, my ribs, my abdomen, then back up. Slowly, lazily. My body stiffens under her teasing touch.

"Did I do something you don't like?" Her whisper is a little shy, a little uncertain.

I close my eyes, nearly choking at her question. "No." I like everything she does to me. Too much. That's the problem.

Elle's fingers continue to trace my skin, along the collarbone, up the side of my neck. She shifts, so her upper body is resting fully on my chest.

I open my eyes and tip her chin up so I can look into hers. Those big, soft blue-grey eyes just pull me in. After a moment, I can't resist anymore, and I lean forward to kiss her, ignoring the screaming pain in my lip, wiping the smear of blood from her lip with my thumb before nudging her head back down to my chest.

"Come on, if I have to hike home before six tomorrow, we should get some sleep." I reach over, turn the bedside lamp off, turn on my side, and pull her back against me, keeping her as close as possible.

I run my hand up and down her arm, into her hair, watching her, listening as her breathing eventually slows, deepens, and evens out, telling me she's asleep.

Listening to her, feeling her heartbeat pressed against my chest, I eventually drift off to sleep, at peace with her cuddled into my arms.

- - -

What do you think of this side of Greyson? This revelation gives us a deeper peek into his behaviour, his fears. 

How do you feel the relationship between him and Elle is developing? 

Looking forward to your comments, please consider voting if you enjoyed this chapter! 

Xx Toria