I frowned, the name meaning nothing, then I remembered. “Holy crap, Gray. You mean Green Acres, the retirement homes?”
He nodded. “Nursing homes, retirement communities, memory care centers. He’s cornered the elderly care market in the Rocky Mountain states. He’s big time but not so big on his own. No one cares about a guy who’s made a fortune in taking care of old people. Those are his words not mine.” He paused before he continued. “I think it pisses him off that I made it big, bigger than he’ll ever be.”
“He’s making you mad though, and that’s got to worry him. Retribution from an MMA fighter with your connections has got to be something he has to consider. It makes no sense. Leaving you alone, forgetting you exist, is a better strategy.”
“In the past, he just called every once in a while to fuck with me, reminding me that he was around, watching, even from far away. That’s it.”
“You mentioned a ranch. He still lives there?”
“Yes.”
“You said you don’t go back.”
He shook his head. “Every one of my nightmares was made on that property.”
I ached, my heart hurt for him. “But the land, the open spaces, it’s in you.”
He frowned.
“I saw the pictures in the other room.”
“That’s not his place. I have land of my own. About an hour from here. Nowhere near where I grew up. The pictures are from there. I go there to get away. I’ll take you there one of these days.”
I offered him a small smile. “On one condition.”
He arched a brow and waited.
“You wear those sexy snap shirts. I like that my man’s a cowboy.”
He grinned then. “I can do that.” His smile slipped. “He’s not going to stop.”
I looked at him, really looked at him. I may have gotten him to smile, but it didn’t solve any of his problems. I was missing something, the missing piece that stirred up his past, that had his dad back in his life, pestering him, annoying him, making him angry and tense. It had to be something important to him and—
Of course. I froze, my eyes going wide, so wide at the realization. I could see in his eyes that I was right that there was more. Pulling back, I climbed off the bed, not caring I was naked. “It’s me. I’m the reason he’s calling. He knows about me.”
I talked as I paced back and forth on the far side of the bed while Gray sat motionless, only his eyes following.
“He’s using me to mess with you.” I pointed to myself then at him. “This isn’t fair to you, what he’s doing.”
“I know,” he said, resigned. “It’s more than that. He texted you.”
I froze in place, a slice of panic cutting through my concern for Gray. “Texted me?”
He nodded, reaching for my cell on the bedside table. “Last night when you were in the shower. I heard it ring from your bag and pulled it out to make sure it wasn’t Chris. I thought you’d want to take a call from him. I recognized the number, Emory.”
I took my phone from his hand, slid my fingers over the screen until the text came up. Read it. My stomach plummeted. While my son was fully grown and legally an adult, that didn’t make him any less my baby. No one messed with my kid, even from halfway across the country, and now Gray had the extra weight of this on his shoulders as well. I glanced at his hard eyes. “Your dad knows about Chris.”
He nodded.
“I… I have to go.” I reached down, grabbed Gray’s T-shirt from the floor, put it over my head, but it was twisted, and I couldn’t get my arm in the hole. I yanked it off, worked to untangle it. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this or with him after what he did to you.” I moved quickly around the bed for the door.
“What? Wait!” He used his swiftness to jump to his feet and grab my arm, halting me in my tracks, spinning me to face him, confusion on his face. “Where are you going?”
My heart was racing, and I was frantic. “Where am I going? He knows about Chris,” I repeated. “I can’t stay here, be with you like this with that… that crazy man. Jesus, Gray, you’ve been through so much. God, the horrors you had to deal with when you were just a child and now you’ve got the added weight of me. But messing with Chris is where I draw the line.”
“He won’t touch Chris. He’s just being a fucker and pushing your buttons, which pisses me off. That’s what he wants! He wants you to leave. He’s winning,” he said, his voice snapping, his hand gripping my arm.
I sighed because he was right but held fast to my decision. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that horrible, horrible man, and he’s going after you because of me! It’s all my fault.” I tugged at his hold.