Page 93 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
Marcy pushes the button in her hand that takes the photo without her having to look through the lens. There’s a constant whirring click as the shutter continues to snap pictures.
“He is. I took some incredible shots of him in his dad’s gear. I thought it was important for him to have them for his memories.”
“I’m sure it will mean a lot to him.”
Click. Click. Click.
“It’s a good thing you’re doing here. This calendar for him and Shelby and whoever else they appropriate the funds to.”
Click. Click. Click.
“It’s the least I can do since . . .” His voice fades off, but I know what he left unsaid. Since I didn’t save him.
“The calendar will make some women happy.” She laughs. Click. Click. Click. “A lot of women happy. In fact, I’d love to shoot you another time. You have an incredible body.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” His voice is soft, his cheeks flushing as his movements remain still despite her efforts to relax him.
“The offer stands,” she murmurs.
She positions him a few more times, and yet even to a layman like me, it doesn’t matter how striking Grady’s body is, his expression reflects his disquiet. But h
e’s patient and never complains. He does what she asks, turning his body every time she moves around him to reposition her camera so that any hint of his scars are out of the frame.
“Okay, give me a few seconds to check my shots and make sure I have enough to choose from.”
Grady nods and stands in the middle of the studio. He doesn’t look my way. He doesn’t say a word. It’s like he’s on an island by himself without wanting anyone to save him. Without believing anyone would want to.
He looks so lonely and isolated and every part of me yearns to be able to provide the solace he needs, but deep down I know he’s the one who needs to find that. He’s the one who needs to accept that life moves on regardless of how hard that may be.
Marcy looks over the top of her computer to Grady and then back down, the clicker still in her hand. A line forms on her forehead as she furrows her brow in concentration. “I think I’ve got it. Thank you, Grady.”
“I’m done?” There’s a mixture of relief and gratitude in his voice as he stares at her.
“You’re done.” She offers up a smile to him as he walks over and sets down the borrowed turnout jacket he had in his hand. In my periphery I catch Marcy wince when she sees Grady’s back for the first time as he relaxes, knowing the hard part is over.
Her reaction is natural and unintentional. I know it. But I also feel the need to protect Grady from it. From possibly turning around and seeing it for himself. So I move into her line of sight so I’m the only one who can see Grady in this vulnerable state.
Desperate for a connection with him, anything, so I can let him know how proud I am of him for following through with this, I call his name. “Grady.” He looks back over his shoulder at me. Good job. I mouth the words across the space, and when he smiles at me, it’s the truest smile I’ve seen since I walked in here.
And for the briefest of seconds, I let myself believe he feels the same way about me that I do about him.
“Hey,” Grady murmurs into my ear as I stir slowly from my sleep.
I feel the bed dip. The covers lift. The heat of his body as he slides up behind me. The feel of his hand on my abdomen pulling me against him.
“Good shift?” I ask, my mind trying to catch up to my body, which is already awake and alert to the feel of his.
“How come you’re in here?” he asks and the heat of his breath hits the back of my neck.
“This is my room.”
“But I have nightmares when you’re not in mine.” He says it so nonchalantly, I close my eyes and squeeze them tight as I try to control the emotion that swells into my voice.
“I don’t feel right sleeping in there when you’re not here.”
“Don’t be silly.” He rests his forehead against the back of my head and falls silent. Just as I’m about to fall back asleep he murmurs, “We lost a kid tonight. Traffic accident. He wasn’t buckled in his car seat properly. Grayson was called to the scene and they flew him to General but we lost him.”
My heart breaks. “Grady, I’m so sorry.”
