The Resident Badboy

Chapter 21 • Truth Heist

I furrow my brows in confusion. Don't tell me he's making a big deal out of that one? "Because that's your name," I say as-a-matter-of-factly.

           "Really?" he urges in a mocking tone.

           "I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of your name," I spat and I quickly realize I just dig my own freaking grave.

           Grayson scoffs, confirming my thoughts. He shakes his head and pushes himself off the railings. "Says the girl who gets all angry when someone outside her known circle calls her by Harls."

           I narrow my eyes at him as I try to decipher what he's really up to. To be honest, I have never felt so damn unguarded in my entire life of being so contained. Only Grayson Levy can do this. He takes a daring step towards me and my hand immediately shoots up, palm facing him, telling him to stop.

           "Not even an inch, Levy," I say, playing safe with the name calling which somehow caused this scene that's about to unfold between us.

           "Why, Harley..." he says with his Lucifer like tone, the kind that annoys and triggers you at the same time it seduces you. "Scared?"

           There he is, the spawn of Satan hitting me where he's used to. He knows I don't back down from that but not this time, demon.

           I force a smile and hold myself steady as I watch him stride towards me with all that vindictive aura radiating off of him. "Nice try, dumbass. I'm not falling for that."

           I pivot on my heels and pad my way back to my room. I know he's following me despite his soundless footsteps on my tail. I can feel his warmth flat on my back and his eyes burning on my skull. I feel like I can also almost hear all the words he wants to drown me in with.

           But really, why am I running away? Why am I so afraid?

           "Stop," Grayson growls and surprisingly, I did, maybe because I really wanted to stay a little longer and probably listen more to him. I am dead on my tracks, my hands clenched into fists and my heart is banging against my chest as I slowly turn around to face him.

"Grayson, I am not here to play with your mind games. Maybe you already know what I went through so please have the decency to not make me any more miserable than Lexus intends to," I nearly beg.

Hurt flashes on Grayson's face after my plea. But instead of backing down, he steps closer and reaches for my arm. I let him get a hold of me.

"I'll give you all the time you want. And when you're ready... come back to me," he says in a tone that sends warmth to my ice cold heart.

I take a step back as he lets go of me. My eyes are trained on his, drowning me yet again. I slowly shake my head and his eyes narrow. "I will never be ready, Grayson. I'm sorry."

For the second time—or maybe for the hundredth time—I run away from him. I reach the door to my room and turn the knob as fast as I can. I take on lingering look on him.

           "I'm not gonna stop, Harley," he says right before I shut the door on his face.

           I am out of breath when I made it to my bed. The room stinks of alcohol and it's unusually calm given the fact that I left my girls like strippers and fishes awhile ago. Right now,  I just could care less. I am absorbed with my own thoughts and not even a puking Bridget could detached me from it.