Grayson's POV

I sigh again as the line goes dead, not even ringing. I chuck my phone down beside me and fall back onto the bed, clutching my hair in frustration. No matter how many times I've tried to call her, it doesn't even ring.

That could mean she has turned her phone off, although it's possible I don't see her do that when she's expecting my calls. Option two is that my father has something to do with it which is something I fear.

I have every reason to.

With much hesitation, I decided to call him.

The line rings till it nearly ends then he decides to pick up the phone. Asshole.

"Ciao, Figlio." His deep voice greets me making my jaw tense.

{hello, son.}

"Let me speak to her," I demand not having time for greetings.

"Ti ho insegnato a parlare italiano per niente?" He grits out. My body automatically tenses at the sound of his anger.

{did I teach you to speak Italian for nothing?}

I roll my eyes at his stupid rule. I want to be smart and tell him he never actually taught me. I had to teach myself at the age of five or else there would be punishment.

"Fammi parlare con lei." I sigh in frustration.

{let me speak to her}

"Tua Madre impegnata." I don't believe him for a second. My anger begins to rise to a whole other level and it's then I know I should have never called him.

{your mother's busy.}

"La Tua menzogna. Lei è mia madre lascia che le parli." I nearly shout into the phone. My grip tightens on the phone, as my other hand grips the sheets in anger.

{your lying. She's my mother let me speak to her.}

"Guarda la tua linga ragazzo! Quando dico che tue madre è impegnata, intendo che tua madre è impegnata. Ora fine discussion." He hangs up the phone before I can even answer.

{watch your tongue boy! When I say your mother's busy, I mean your mother's busy. End of dissuasion.}

"Stronzo!" I yell in anger, gripping my hair in my hands.

{asshole}

I shake my head to myself in disbelief. My father is a force to be reckoned with and unfortunately, I've come out broken too many times by his hands. My fear for him runs deep within me, I wouldn't admit it to any one of course. But my father is someone you would wish dead, I for as hell do. This is why, when he tells me my mother is 'busy' I fear for her safety.

I change into black basketball shorts and a white T-shirt, leaving the cabin before I lash out. I make my way over to the gym, luckily it's empty. I flicked on the lights, row by row the white lights flutters on illuminating the empty gym. I bask in the silence it brings as I walk into it and make my way to the punching bag.

I wrap my hands and begin to punch. My fists hit the bag with so much force the chain rattles like the sound of a lighting bolt hitting a tree. I close my eyes as I hit the bag almost imagining it to be my farther I was punching.

"solo i ragazzi deboli piangono, mettiti insieme ragazzo" daddy shouted at me making me want to cry even more. I looked at my feet because he doesn't like it when I look him in the eye.

{only weak boys cry, get it together.}

"Sorry, daddy." I sniffled, trying to hold back new tears.

"cosa ho detto quando mi hai parlato?" He placed his hands on his hips, his scary eyes staring me down.

{what did I say when you speak to me?}

"scusa papà," I mumbled. I still wasn't very good at Italian but I've been working really hard. I've been hiding under my blanket at night with my torch, practicing. Daddy will yell at me if he caught me.

"fuori dalla mia vista." He waved me away, turning his head.

{get out of my sight}

I shuffled off as fast as I could. Daddy can be really scary sometimes but mummy says he still loves us.

I send a kick to the bag and another and another. I punch it as if it will rid me of the memories-no nightmares created by him. I blame him for this, for the nights I wake up screaming or sweating. For my trust issues. I blame him.

I try to silence my cry's as I cover my ears from the screaming. So many people are screaming and I don't like it. They always scream and then they suddenly stop. Mumma always said to ignore them but it's hard when that's all I hear.

"Oh, bubba." I look up to see Maria frowning at me.

My lip wobbles as I look at her with tears eyes. Her soft hands cup my cheeks, wiping away my tears. She pulls me into a hug and I cling onto her jumper for dear life.

"Why won't they stop?" I sniffle, hiding my head on her shoulder.

She rubs my back up and down. Mumma used to do that but daddy said I'm too old to have cuddles. So she stopped. But Maria didn't.

"I don't know, bubs. Hey, why don't we sing a song?" She smiles at me and I nod even though I don't like singing.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine." She sends me a smile as she rocks me back and forward. "You make me happy when skies are grey."

"That's me!" I smile. She laughs shaking her head.

"Yeah, it is. You'll never know dear, how much I love you." I flinch when a really loud scream comes from downstairs. Maria hugs me close and puts her hands over my ears.

"Please don't take my sunshine away." I barely hear her whisper.

Screams aren't something that frightens me anymore. I grew familiar with them quickly, they're part of me now. As a kid, when Maria would hold me close at night, the screams were always the worst at night. Maria made the screams become quiet, muffled as if they were never there. I once asked her where they came from and who was screaming, but she would just smile at me and shake her head. Now looking at it it wasn't a happy smile, she pitied me, herself, and the situation we were in. But soon I faced the bitter reality and was given all the answers I wanted. At seven, my father took me to where the screams began and ended. That night he took me there, was when I became the Grayson Blackwell. I didn't cry, I merely stared at the innocent woman who begged for her life. My father took no pity and shot her in front of me. Then he turned to me and demanded I kill her.

I did.

I killed her.

I lost my appetite for weeks and that's when my nightmares began, they haven't stopped since.

I blame every. Single. Moment. On him.

I let out an animalistic scream and pushed myself away from the punching bag. My breaths come out harsh and labored, sweat coating my skin. Because of my anger, I was distracted and was unaware of another presence in the room, when a crash had me surprised turning around to see Elizabeth frozen by a stack of weights that have now fallen to the floor.

I let out a harsh breath running a hand through my hair. "I didn't mean to disturb you." I roll my eyes at her.

I don't bother replying to her and turn my back to her. The silence is soon broken as she speaks again. "Are, Uh, are you okay?" I felt myself freeze at the question my body tensing.

"Fine," I mutter, grabbing a towel and running it across my face.

"You seem pretty angry." I hear her steps walk closer to me making me tense yet again.

"I always am." I toss the towel down turning around to find her much close to me than I had anticipated.

Her hands run down my chest and I watch them move with annoyance. I wrap my hands around her wrists and drop her arms to her side. "I don't like people touching me." I simply say and glare at her.

"You didn't mind it last time I did." She purrs, her hands yet again running up my chest.

"A lot has changed over the years, I grew standers." I sneer, giving her a harsh glare.

She scoffs pushing her chest against mine. She leans her face inches away from mine and whispers seductively, "The Grayson I knew was never tied down." What she says, although it shouldn't, triggers something in me and for some unexplainable reason, I feel like I need to prove something.

Perhaps it was the need to reassure me, or to deny the fact the I don't feel anything to Nova. Perhaps it was because of my father and the memories he brought that pushed me over the edge. It could have been the unfamiliar feeling that Nova gave me when she smiles or walked into a room. It could have been any of these reasons why I brought Elizabeth in a hungry kiss. She moans into it and I don't waste time by tearing her top off to reveal her hardened nipples. My hands cup her breasts as my tongue slides into her mouth, dominating her completely. Her hands try to wonder but I clasp them in my grip, turning around I push her against the wall and pin her hands to it.

I remove her shorts, a condom falls out of the pocket landing on the floor. I look up at her with a raised brow. She blushes as if she didn't bring a condom in the hopes of me fucking her. Quickly, I take out my dick, rip the condom open and slide it on. Before she can even do anything I ram into her. She moans out, fighting against my grip. But I don't let her hands move from the wall, not wanting her to touch me. I thrust into her in a haste. As Elizabeth moans my name thoughts of Nova's addicting moans make me groan. Suddenly, that's all my mind can think about. Nova's body beneath mine as my hand wanders across her curves. My mouth kissed her neck and left my mark for everyone to see. "Fuck!" I groan.

The image of my tongue running down the ally of her breasts, taking a nipple into my mouth sucking on it as she arches and withers below me. I moan, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. Her thighs wrapped around me shaking as I make her scream my name. Her walls clutch around me that making my eyes roll every time she does it. And they do just that, my eyes roll back imaging it Nova around me. Elizabeth's moans are nothing to Nova's as she chants my name religiously, her nails scratching down my back and her pu**y drenched. Her sweet cum dripping down her thighs as I rail her.

And just as I would hit the spot, my thumb circling her clit, her legs shaking, her moans getting louder and louder, her nails digging in harder and harder. She screams my name. I cum and moan her name. "Fuck, Nova." I catch my breath and come back to reality.

"What did you just say?" Elizabeth asks me, her cheeks flushed.

I pull out of her quickly and bring my shorts back up. "Nothing." I glance at her as she stands there naked, staring at me. I discard the condom and turn back to her. "Are you going to just stand there or what?" She stutters and collects her clothes hastily putting them on.

"You didn't let me touch you." She mummers.

I roll my eyes, suppressing a groan. "Yes."

"Why not?" Her eyes widen as she raises her voice.

I glare at her watching her cower down. "Because I don't like people touching me." I spit.

"You moaned her name, didn't you?"

I send her a cold harsh glare, walking up to her. "It was the only thing keeping me hard." With that, I walk away from her dumbfounded face slamming the doors on the way out.

Or maybe, I'm just an asshole.

***