Beloved

Author's Note:

'Beloved'

is an actual story, with *le gasp* a real, honest-to-god plot and character development. So if you haven't read the previous chapters yet, you will be entirely lost if you try to read this - For optimal enjoyment, please go read the rest of the series first. I promise it's worth it!<3

As always, I would like to remind my readers that the events in this story are fictional and should never,

EVER

, under any circumstances be attempted or reenacted in real life. Like most of the works under the Non-Consent/Reluctance category, the things portrayed here are a fun fantasy to explore in a book or piece of erotica, but would be abhorrent and incredibly illegal/immoral in reality. Please enjoy it as the work of fiction it is!

Thank you SO MUCH to my absolutely amazing friends who are proofreading this story for me, catching all my stray commas, and cheering me on from behind the scenes!

If you enjoy my work, please consider following, commenting, or leaving a rating - It really helps me out!!! - You may have noticed I don't generally reply to comments (this is because there's only so many ways to say 'Thanks so much, I'm glad you liked it', haha!) but I do READ them all, so please keep them coming! :D

Also, I was told to give fair warning that this chapter may, in fact, make you cry - You have been warned.

Happy reading! ;D

xoxo,

G.M. Gardner<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You have to get

up

, puppydog!"

I pulled on Grant's hand for what felt like the millionth time, trying in vain to shift him from where he was laying in the dirt, his placid expression made all the more eerie by the way his vacant eyes were staring unseeingly towards the sky.

Maybe an hour had passed since I'd woken back up to find the world exactly how I'd left it - Brilliant blue up above and cool earth below, Grant's body protectively pressed against mine as the sounds of destruction mingled dissonantly with his quiet, broken sobs.

My little 'nap' had likely only lasted seconds, but it had been long enough for my sense of self-preservation to surge back full-force, the fires of rage smothered into submission right along with the rest of me.

So instead of fighting, I'd held on tight to Grant as chaos echoed through the cornstalks, letting my mind drift away into pleasant memories of better times as we waited for the danger to pass.

And, eventually.

Inevitably.

It had.

The fields had long since fallen quiet, the house gone still, the sound of a car retreating back up the driveway now only a distant memory. I had zero doubt that it was as safe as it would ever be to go face the reality of what had happened and try to regroup somehow.

The only problem now was...

Grant was

gone

.

Yes, he was still breathing, but other than that he might as well have been another cornstalk for all the life he was showing, and I was getting more worried by the minute that the shock of losing Rand had broken his mind entirely.

Shaking him had had no effect. Yelling hadn't gotten past that blank stare. No amount of appealing to logic or reason or any threats I could come up with had done a damn thing to rouse him.

At one point I'd even tried slapping him across the face - more out of frustration than anything - but all that had accomplished was giving him a rapidly developing bruise across his cheekbone to match the rest of his disheveled appearance.

I was quickly running out of ideas on how to snap him out of it, but I wasn't about to give up.

Not a chance in hell.

Because while Grant might be a fucked-up lying little puppydog, at some point in all of this madness I'd apparently decided - for better or worse - that he was

my

fucked-up little puppydog, and I'd be damned if I was gonna let him just lay down and die.

So I grabbed the front of his shirt again, shaking him roughly as I pleaded, "

Please

, will you just

look

at me?! Do

something

!!!"

Grant's only answer was the barest of blinks, not even a flicker of recognition in his hollow eyes as I cupped his face in my hands, staring down at him desperately. "

Come on

," I whispered, fighting against the threat of useless tears. "I know you're in there somewhere!

Please

come back, I-I

need

you!"

Nothing.

Not a trace of acknowledgement crossed Grant's face, and I pulled away with a cry of frustration, leaving him to continue staring blankly off into space as I paced fitfully back and forth along the narrow cornrow.

"C'mon, Kate, think, think, THINK!" I muttered frantically, tapping the side of my skull. "There's got to be

something

you haven't tried yet! What would the Boss-"

I didn't get to finish the thought before I choked on a wave of grief, nearly doubling over with the force of it as I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately pushing back against the sickening slideshow of intrusive images that flashed through my mind.

Pale skin.

Sightless eyes.

Playing cards scattered like petals across a pool of crimson so dark it was almost black, spreading out like an endless ocean beneath the broken...

Sprawled...

Lifeless...

NO!

I wrestled control back from the carousel of as-yet-unseen horrors, screaming silently at myself to get a grip as I wiped at my damp cheeks, because I didn't have fucking

time

for this shit.

There was only room for one mental breakdown in this stupid cornfield, and the only reason I should give a single thought to Rand's death right now was what it meant for our own chances for survival.

Because nobody was coming to save us.

No big strong man was going to swoop in and save the day, scoop Grant up off the ground and whisk us both away to safety. Backup wasn't waiting just around the corner, help wouldn't show up in the nick of time, the beacons could burn forever and the aid we so desperately needed would never arrive.

It was all up to me now.

Just me.

I had never felt so small in my entire life, struggling to fill shoes that were ten sizes too big for me as I once again sealed away my own suffering, trading in my panic attack for figuring out another plan of attack.

Much as I hated to admit it, getting Grant back up and running likely wasn't in the cards right now, and it could take hours or days before he came back to some semblance of sanity. That left only one real option left on the table, the hope of at least being able to scrounge up some supplies to help him recover making me brave enough to risk returning alone.

So I went back to Grant's side, trying to give him a smile as I asked, "Hey, puppydog? Will you be okay on your own for a minute while I go-"

See what happened to Rand.

I shook away the unwelcome thought, finishing awkwardly, "-Go check the damage?"

Of course Grant didn't answer, and I shrugged his jacket off my shoulders, covering him up as best I could and whispering a promise that I'd be back soon before heading towards the house.

The first thing I saw when I emerged from the cover of the corn was the patio.

Or rather... What was left of it.

All of the furniture was in splinters, the cushions slashed and tossed about, Grant's coffee mug reduced to sticky shards and shattered glass from the ruined back door turning the smooth stones into a sharp, sparkling minefield.

"What the

hell

, Lin?" I breathed, navigating carefully around the twisted obstacle that had once been my favorite lounge chair. "Why would you..."

My voice trailed off as I stepped through the gaping hole that was once the back door and stopped dead, too stunned by the sight laid out before me to go any further.

It looked like a tornado had gone through the house.

Bits of broken furniture were strewn gruesomely across the torn carpet, the poor couch overturned and bleeding stuffing, what remained of the end tables bent grotesquely. The kitchen was completely demolished, flour scattered over the cracked marble and what was left of the cabinets, the entryway barely recognizable with the front door torn clean off its hinges.

While the walls were still standing, every single one had red spray paint slashed violently across the ruined drywall, scrawling words so cruel they didn't bear repeating, threats and slurs that I instantly added to my list of reasons for wanting Lindy six feet under.

The only boon that there was no body in the wreckage - Not a single sign of Rand's fate to be seen in the sad scene, and I was counting my lucky stars for that when a soft sob made me look up in surprise.

I should have known that the secret to getting Grant to wake up would be to leave his clingy ass alone for five seconds, but as he shakily stepped forward to stand by my side, my already weary heart sank even further.

Because he didn't look calm, or even angry.

He looked

devastated

.

Grant's despair was tangible as he stared at the destruction, his distress a sobering reminder that while I'd viewed this house as nothing more than a very comfortable prison, this was his

home

. That this violation went far deeper than just having to repaint and replace the coffee table, and I reached instinctively for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm so, so sorry," I whispered, taking a careful step into the chaos. "Come on, we need to go and-"

I cursed as Grant crumpled, struggling to keep him on his feet as I steered him away from the worst of the broken glass, half-dragging him to the carcass of the couch so he could collapse on the ruined cushions.

"This is all my fault," he breathed, once again staring blankly ahead as tears trickled down into his beard. "

I

did this. Why am I so

stupid

? Why did I think that I could... That I would ever be able to... Why would I

deserve

...?"

As Grant kept rambling on in half-formed sentences, I was forced to face the fact that he was in no condition to even make it down the stairs - let alone witness what was waiting at the bottom of them - and I looked around for ideas, my attention landing on the bookcase.

It was just as ruined as everything else, but there was no sign that Lindy and her goon had found the room behind it, Rand's casual comment about it also being a panic room suddenly sounding less like a technicality and more like a saving grace.

That'll do.

"Okay, sweetie, I need you to stay with me!" I said, tapping Grant's cheek to try to get his attention. "I don't know the code to the panic room, okay? So I need you to-"

"Phone number," he interrupted, without looking at me.

"That doesn't really help?" I admitted, glancing uncertainly towards the hidden door. "I don't know your number, so..."

"No, Ra-" Grant choked on the name, his expression going placid as he whispered, "He wanted to make sure you could get in, if there was an emergency? So he added your phone number to the codes. Just in case."

I was opening my mouth to ask how in the hell Rand would have expected me to know that when an offhanded remark the giant had made while we were having our little nerdfest popped back into my head. I'd been flipping through a book, admitting how nice it was to be able to browse instead of making do with whatever was handed to me, and he had nodded towards the door.

'Welcome anytime, kitten,

' Rand had said, with one of those tiny smiles of his. '

Just give it a ring.

'

I'd thought at the time that his room had a doorbell for some weird reason, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at how incredibly on-brand that subtle hint had been. I made a beeline for the bookcase, single-handedly shifting the heavy remains of the shelves to unearth the hidden panel, quickly typing in my phone number and breathing a shaky sigh of relief when the keypad flashed green.

It wasn't until the door swung open that I realized I'd still had hope.

A tiny sliver of belief that maybe - just

maybe

- Rand had made it to safety. That we would walk in and he would be waiting for us. Safe and sound and worried sick, ready as ever to let our tired souls take shelter in that eternal steadiness of his.

But all that was waiting was darkness.

Inky black and a deathly silence that brought along with it a tidal wave of despair so powerful I staggered back a step, covering my mouth to stifle a sob.

"Pet?" came a hopeful call from behind me, Grant's voice cracking as he asked, "Is-is anyone in there?"

I scraped myself up once more, flipping on the lights and making a show of looking around the unoccupied room before shaking my head.

"Nope, we're all clear!" I said brightly, as if this was good news. "Come on, puppydog, let's go!"

Grant's answer was to go catatonic again, but luckily this time all it took was a bit of coaxing to get him back on his feet. I helped him stumble from the ruined couch to the overstuffed one, making sure to conceal the keypad before shutting the door securely behind us.

God, I hated being in here.

After walking through the aftermath of Hurricane Lindy, the perfectly pristine contents of Rand's room were jarring, his absence looming larger than the man himself. It made my skin itch to even exist in his space, my bones hollowing out as I looked around at the leftover fragments of a life.

The soft, well-worn gray hoodie, tossed over the back of the couch.

A smudged pair of reading glasses, folded neatly next to a novel with a bookmark barely halfway through its pages.

That pretty pink controller with just a trace of wear around the edges of its buttons.

I could hardly bear to stand witness to how all of Rand's beloved belongings were waiting so patiently for their master to return. Sitting so still, already collecting dust as they held their breath and watched the door, longing for him to step through and grant them meaning once more.

To give them one of those sunshine smiles.

Boop their nose and-

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Grant's quiet question was so unexpected, so far out of fucking left field that a knee-jerk reply of, "I'm sorry?" was out of my mouth before I even knew what was happening.

"Love at first sight," he repeated, my skin prickling at the wistfulness in his voice. "Like in the movies, the whole '

seeing someone across a crowded room and knowing that they're the one

' thing. Do you believe in that?"

Yes.

I didn't say it, managing an awkward laugh as I lied, "I guess I've never really thought about it."

"I do," he said simply, still staring blankly straight ahead. "Always have. Ever since I was a little kid, I just

knew

that someday it would happen to me. That I was going to meet someone and know that they were mine, just like

that

."

Grant snapped his fingers, and I flinched at the sharp sound, staying silent as he let out a shaky breath and continued, "So when it finally happened, I wasn't surprised. Excited -

thrilled

, even - but not surprised. The only surprising part was... that it was a man."

Oh no.

Please no.

I'd thought that grief was mixing with guilt into a potent cocktail, making Grant drunk enough to allow the truth to finally roll off his tongue. Had been bracing myself for a flashback to that fateful day in Lindy's backyard, for him to declare his undying love and confess why I was here.

I wasn't prepared for

this

.

I fought the urge to cover my ears, feeling more like an intruder than ever as Grant's face spread into a nostalgic smile, his voice so soft I could barely hear it.

"God, he was perfect. So fucking tall. So handsome it felt like I would burst into flames if he so much as touched me. I couldn't understand why I was the only one staring, why nobody else could see how

special

he was. How they didn't notice that the love of my life had just walked in the door."

Grant swayed tiredly, and I hurried over to sit beside him, letting him lean on me. It seemed like a good plan to try to keep him talking, and I asked hesitantly, "So... What did you do?"

"Oh, I panicked," he said, with a faint laugh. "Made a complete fool of myself, fucked the whole thing up. Spent the next bit of forever thinking I'd never see him again, kicking myself for missing my chance, and then... One day, there he was. Standing by my car. Waiting for me."

"Did he toss you in the trunk?" I attempted to joke, and Grant instantly burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.

I hastily tried to apologize, and he shook his head, sobbing brokenly, "N-n-no,

I'm

the one w-w-who should be

s-s-sorry

! I'm a t-t-terrible person, I'm so

s-s-stupid

, why can't I do a-a-anything right?! I'm such an

i-i-idiot

, why am I l-l-like this-?!"

As Grant kept up a steady stream of self-loathing, I attempted to calm him down by rubbing his back and only succeeded in making him yelp in pain and cry even harder.

Fuck.

I'd completely forgotten about Grant's existing injuries, and as he began spewing some nonsense about how if Rand had just beaten him more often, none of this would have ever happened - an assertion I sincerely doubted, having known him for more than five minutes - I gave a quick, "

Stay

, puppydog!" and hurried off to the attached bathroom.

I hadn't been in here before, surprised to find it was large enough to have a full bathtub and shower. I was far more interested in the medicine cabinet over the sink, rummaging through it in hopes of finding some pain meds.

It didn't take long to locate the ibuprofen, but sitting right next to it was a small orange prescription bottle, and I peered at the label curiously.

"Who the hell is '

Shigemitsu, Takashi

?" I wondered out loud to myself. "Don't tell me there's

another

fucking guy hiding around here somewhere?"

The bottle didn't have answers for me, but according to the directions this medication was meant to be taken '

as needed

' for anxiety, which made it infinitely more valuable right now than the painkillers.

Okay, so if it's half a pill for a panic attack

, I thought, twisting off the top without hesitation.

How many to stop a full-fledged mental breakdown...?

According to the label you weren't supposed to have more than four in a day, so I made an uneducated guess and hurriedly tapped two of the small pills out into my palm along with a pair of ibuprofen, filling up the cup sitting beside the sink with water.

"Alright, puppydog, got you some meds!" I chirped, returning to plop down beside Grant on the couch. "Think you can get them down?"

"I d-d-don't deserve-" he hiccuped, and I shook my head firmly.

"Gonna need you to fuck right off with that." I pressed the pills into his palm, praying he wouldn't examine them too closely as I waggled the water at him. "Come on! Down the hatch, let's go!"

And, miraculously.

Grant obeyed.

Popped the pills in his mouth without so much as glancing at them, downing the entire cup of water as a chaser before going back to sobbing brokenheartedly. I held his hand and kept one eye on the clock hanging on the wall, crossing my fingers that whatever the hell I'd just given him was fast-acting.

It was.

About ten minutes later, the flow of Grant's rambling started to slow, running together as his face settled into a different sort of blankness, an artificial calm that was distinctly different from his usual flavor of placid panic.

"How're you feeling?" I asked, as he held one of his hands in front of his face, examining it with a vague sort of interest.

"I forgot to put my ring on this morning," Grant murmured, each word slurring a little bit more. "What a day for it, hmm?"

"No, it's right here!" I said quickly, turning the hand I was holding over to show him the black-and-silver band. "See? You didn't forget, puppydog."

Grant nodded slowly, deliberately, as if he was moving through syrup. "That's good. At least I can be buried in it without you having to sort through... All that."