Content warning: This chapter contains mature content.

September 4

Loon Call Island, Lake Rosseau, Muskoka

We're heading back to school in four days, and Greyson is still refusing to see me. He's been temperamental, moody, distant, angry. He seems to be more focused on pushing people away than facing his grief.

I'm sitting on the end of Theo's dock, waiting to see if Ryan can convince him to come down and see me. I'm losing patience and hope that I can get through to him.

Gone is the sad, broken girl from the other night. After I'd finally let the feelings I'd been holding in all summer out, I'd woken up feeling a thousand pounds lighter. My heart was still aching from the loss of my friend, but somehow, his letter and the release of everything I'd been holding in had put me back on track in my mission. Even if I'm a bit of a coward at this moment.

When Ryan walks down from the boathouse suite, he shakes his head at me. Greyson's been locked in there for nearly five days since Liam's funeral.

He drops down beside me and puts his arm around my shoulder. I lean into him, sighing. "Thanks for checking, Ryan. I don't know what to do, I can't get through to him. I need to get him to see me. Do you know if he at least read the letter?"

When he shakes his head, I look away from his sad eyes. He hadn't wanted to talk after reading his own letter from Liam, so I don't push.

"He won't even talk to me. He threw me out in ten seconds flat the other night when I tried to bring him something to eat."

We sit quietly for a long time. My mind races over the events of the past few days.

I'm too nervous to go upstairs again, I'm actually a little frightened of Greyson right now. Last time I'd tried to push my way through, to force him to talk to me, he'd thrown me over his shoulder and dumped me in a heap in my boat before storming back upstairs, slamming the door in my face, effectively shutting me out, sliding a chair under the only door to block it. I'd pushed at the door until he'd yelled at me, startling me into shocked silence.

He's never treated me like that before and to be honest, it's shaken my confidence enough that I've asked Ryan and Theo to check on him instead these past two days. Apparently, things aren't going any better for them, either.

I wish Brodie were here. He's always been able to get through to Greyson. I called him two days ago, in tears of frustration and helplessness. He's planning to come home from school this weekend, but until then, I'm on my own. Even Greyson's parents aren't getting involved.

It had been a near disaster when Joy and Hugh had tried to get through to Greyson. He'd totally trashed his cabin, breaking anything that wasn't too heavy to throw, then shoving past his parents before coming to stay with Theo.

Hudson is planning to pick me up after lunch, so I'm stuck sitting on the end of the dock with Ryan unless I can get through to Greyson. Theo's sitting outside the door to the loft in case Greyson opens up.

Eventually, Ryan sighs, dangling the key to the door from his fingers. "Elle, someone needs to get him to talk, to see if he's eating. God knows he's been drinking. If we can get you in there, I can lock you in until you tell me you want to come out. I'll stay by the door with Theo."

I look over at him, biting my lip. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Ryan looks over at me, "No, I'm sure it's a terrible idea actually, but it's the only thing we haven't tried. The next step is for me to get his mom involved, which he'll hate me for."

"I'll ask my parents to do it if I can't get through to him, Ryan, no reason for you to do that. He should only have to hate one of us if it comes down to it." I feel a little sick at the thought that he might hate me for forcing him to get help.

"I'm with you, all the way, Elle. I care about him, too." I squeeze Ryan's hand, well here goes nothing, I guess.

When Ryan eases the door open quietly for me, Theo gives me an encouraging nod. I slide in and hear the lock snick closed behind me. I blink to adjust my eyes to the dark loft and see Greyson lying face down on the bed, so I walk over to him.

It smells like a bar in here, the strong, smoky smell of whiskey assaults my nose and makes my eyes water.

He appears to be sleeping, so I ease my hip on the side of the bed and run my fingers lightly through his hair, over his scalp and down the back of his neck. I repeat the movements, until he sighs sleepily and curls closer to me, his face pressing into my stomach and his arms coming around me.

I close my eyes against the tears burning there, all I've wanted is for him to hold me, too. To find some comfort together as well. But he's so lost in his own grief, he can't see anything beyond that. He's incapable of seeing Ryan's pain, Theo's pain, Hudson's pain. My pain. And it makes me sad, but also a little angry. I've had time to wrap some of the anger around me, protecting myself from the hurt.

With no idea how much time has passed and not really caring, I continue to stroke his hair, his neck, and shoulders until eventually, he blinks himself awake. The peaceful quiet is shattered as he shoves away from me. The look on his face is accusatory, angry, confused.

"What are you doing here? I told you to go, I told you I didn't want to see you. I told Ryan and Theo as well. I told them to keep you away from me. You need to go home."

His face is flushed with anger and my decision to come in here, to try to get through to him seems shakier than ever. I try to remind myself that I love this angry boy in front of me. That I want to be here, to try to help him, but his angry expression makes me nervous.

"You don't mean that, Greyson. You're just upset. Please, can we just sit down or lie down, I don't even care if we talk. I just want to be here with you."

"Why? I'm miserable fucking company, Elle. You're better off without me."

I'm frustrated by his answer. "No, I'm not. We're better off together. Like we've always been. Don't push me away, not now. Not again."

When he shakes his head and backs away from me as I walk towards him, I falter. Taking every ounce of courage I have, I move forward, silently glad when his back hits the wall, leaving nowhere for him to go, so I can wrap my arms around his ribs and hold on tight. "Don't, please. I love you." My voice is desperate, cracking with emotion.

He stiffens at my words, but I don't let go when he tries to push me away and after a few terrible moments where I wonder if he might actually hurt me trying to escape my embrace, he finally stills, then collapses against me, sobbing wildly, holding tightly, pressing his face into my neck.

A wave of relief crashes through me, immediately followed by sadness and grief, so I lower to the floor with him, kneeling, stroking his back, his chest, his neck. He leans against me, shaking us both with the force of his sobs. It's all I can do just to hold on.

I rock from side to side, whispering to him, saying nothing in particular, only seeking to comfort. I have no words, so I try to reassure him with my touch, with my embrace. From the force of his grief, I imagine this is the first time he's let go, let anything out. I hold him tighter as his hands grip my ribs convulsively.

Tears are streaming down my own cheeks, but I press my lips together, refusing to draw any attention away from his feelings right now.

It feels like no time at all has passed, but the sun has shifted, now beaming in through the window at us, warming us to the point where I know we'll have to get up and move soon, or sit, sweating from the heat and crying together.

His voice takes me by surprise, "Say it again."

My mind races. Say what again? I think back over the last words I've said and a mixture of relief, pleasure, and apprehension floods me. I know what he wants me to say, so I say it, "I love you, Greyson." I say it again, just like every other time he's asked me to.

He says nothing, only tightens his grip around me, pressing his face into my neck.

I repeat the words, over and over, I must say them a hundred times. Eventually, his breathing returns to a more normal rhythm and he shifts his grip on me.

"Please don't push me away, Greyson." The quiet whisper that escapes me is barely audible.

His silence drives a spike of anxiety into my chest. I'm terrified of what he'll say, what he won't say. I'm a little scared, thinking about what he'll do.

He pulls me up with him to stand and tugs me towards the bathroom. He strips, turning to me and pulling my dress over my head, yanking the strings of my bathing suit until I'm standing naked before him.

I panic for a moment, looking around for a towel to hide behind, but he tugs me under the warm water, pressing me back against the wall, and crushes his mouth to mine.

My head spins, I try to pull in air but there is none, he's left me completely breathless. All I can see, smell, taste, feel is him. He's never kissed me like this before, never touched me like this before. It's rough, hard, angry, desperate.

I hold on like my life depends on it. Maybe it does.

When his hands move lower over my body, sliding between my thighs, I stiffen. I don't want this, not like this. I push his chest gently. "Greyson, please, slow down, I can't do this, not like this."

His lips move against my throat, and his whisper makes my knees weak. "I can make us both feel good again, Elle."

"This feels wrong. It feels like you hate me, like you're angry with me," my voice shakes and I bite my lip. I will not cry over this.

"I thought you said you loved me, Elle. Don't you want this?" He pushes me back against the wall harder this time, crushing me under his weight, one big thigh pressing between mine.

"I do love you, Greyson. I love you enough to stop this, to know you'll hate yourself and me if we continue."

I struggle in his arms for a moment, a real prickle of fear flashing through me when he doesn't let go right away. I slide my hand up his chest, then further to rest on his cheek.

"Remember where we are, remember what I mean to you. Please, stop." Taking a chance, I lean up to place a soft kiss on his lips, keeping my eyes on his.

"Do you remember when you told me there's a difference between making me a little nervous and scaring me? That it's a line you never want to cross? Well, we're getting close to crossing over it now." We're actually way past that line, in my mind, but I try to stay calm.

No matter what he's going through now, I know him; I love him; I trust him. But can I trust myself?

He steps back from me, flushed once more with anger, or maybe frustration and grief. I know it's not my imagination when I see a flash of regret in his eyes.

"If you didn't come here to comfort me, then why the hell did you come here? No, don't answer that. If you didn't come here to comfort me, then leave." His voice is clipped, harsh.

I can't believe my ears. He's never spoken to me like this. I don't think anyone has ever spoken to me like this.

"I did come here to comfort you and I do love you Greyson. I love you more than anything, nothing will ever change that. If you can't see that, then maybe I should leave."

He doesn't stop me as I push my way past him, yanking my bathing suit back on and hastily tie the strings. I need to get out of here before I lose it and cry in front of him. I know he isn't himself right now, but part of me wonders if he's speaking truths that were hidden behind the intense feelings we've shared all summer.

What am I going to do? I can feel him slipping through my fingers. I need to figure out what I want, if I'm ready to fight for him. If I can withstand this angry version of him long enough for my Greyson to come back through the dark haze of his emotions.

I bend down to pick my sundress up off the floor and the necklace he bought me swings forward and immediately; I feel guilty for doubting his feelings. He'd opened up to me more than ever before, than with anyone else. I know I can't just give up.

"I'm not leaving Greyson. I'll wait in the bedroom."

I pull my dress over my head and grab a towel to dry my hair while I wait for him. I use the time to compose myself, roughly drying my hair and braiding it back away from my face.

He still looks angry when he walks into the bedroom, a towel slung low across his hips. "You should leave, Elle. I want to be alone." He shoves his way back into a pair of shorts from the floor.

"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we? I've wanted you to hold me every day and every night this past week, did I get what I wanted? No. I've given you an entire week to be alone, Greyson. You've left us all, this week." If sympathy and love won't get through to him, then maybe anger will, and I have plenty of that in store.

"You've left us all to suffer alone, after we've supported you all summer, after I've supported you. But honestly, forget about me. What about Ryan? He's going through this too and instead of him grieving, instead of you helping him, checking on him, he's too busy worrying about you. About whether you're eating enough to absorb the booze you're drinking. You have people who need you, who count on you." I practically yell at him in my anger. My voice hitches shakily, dangerously close to tears.

Greyson stares back at me, his jaw dropping, but I don't back down. "I love you Greyson, but enough is enough. You need to show up for the people in your life. It's not only about you. Come on, have you even called Sam? Did you know she's been checked into a psychiatric care facility until school starts? Maybe even longer?"

Since I'm on a roll, I continue, "You promised me you'd let me in, that was a deal-breaker for us being together and I haven't pushed you too hard on that one, but you need to think long and hard about this. Either you start letting me in soon, or at least get real help. I don't even care from where or who at this point, just someone, or I'll make the decision for you."

Greyson's voice is flat. "You wouldn't."

"You're damn right I would Greyson. It might just kill me, because I love you, and I couldn't stand it if you hate me, or resent me, or whatever. But either we're partners, or we're nothing. So if you want a partner, you get a partner, and sometimes that means making the hard decisions for the people you love."

Unless he decides to open up, to ask for help, I'm going to do the only thing I can do, ask for it on his behalf. I know my dad will know what to do, if I ask him for help, he'll be there.

Guilt, nausea, and anxiety crash over me as I turn on my heel. I knock on the door, signaling to Ryan that I'm ready to come out. I hear the click of the lock opening before he cracks it open. I can see he's blocking Theo and Hudson from moving any closer.

Hudson's face is a mask of concern, and Theo's biting his lip worriedly. I roll my eyes, perfect. My hysterical screaming monologue calling Greyson out has had a full audience.

I'm about to walk out towards them when Greyson's hand grabs the door.

- - -

I'm barely holding on at this point, just sitting here crying, no need for alarm.

For those of you who have been following along from the start, thank you! Stay tuned for the next, and final chapter in my first story of Elle and Greyson.

Please comment and tell me what you love, or what you think I could improve, or vote if you enjoyed the story!

Xx Toria