Page 24

For a moment, it seems they’ve stopped and then the second I lift the pillow, they start again. “My God!” Reaching around, I smack my hand against the wall above my headboard. “Just stop it already! Some people are trying to sleep here!”
It doesn’t stop them. Not in the slightest. They actually laugh.
“I’m serious, assholes. I have work tomorrow!” I glance at my clock. “I have work later today.”
I work mornings at the coffee shop off the highway. My shifts starts at 6:00 a.m. but I’m usually off work by noon, so at least it’s bearable hours.
This noise, however, is not bearable. It’s the definition of hell.
“Ethan!” I slap my hand to the wall again. “I will chop your dick off unless you either stop it or leave this house! Can’t you go next door?”
Whining to myself, I twist around in the bed, cover my face with a pillow and hum. Doesn’t work because in that moment, I overhear the words, “Ethan.” Frankie yelps, “Fuck, not so hard,”
Nope. Not doing this tonight.
I jump off my bed as if I’ve seen the biggest spider of my life, then proceed to brush it off like it’s actually there.Fuck that motherfucking asshole who decided it was a good idea to get up early and go to work in the morning. Fuck the person who invented sex-addicted brothers as well. And fuck the entire goddamn world!
As I grumble unintelligibly stumbling around my room looking for my phone, I realize I’m still wearing that damn dress.
Why in the hell am I still wearing this dress?
Because I had been too tired to take it off. As I walk to my closet to change, my eyes flicker toward my window that faces Grayson’s room. He’s sitting at the piano, his head bowed toward the keyboard.
My heart aches, a familiar twist toward the one who holds it without knowing. I watch him for a moment, remember the way it felt to hear him play tonight. I have to know why he left and where that leaves us now that he’s back, or if he’s back.
And he’s awake so I might as well ask now, right?
Riiiiiight.
13
GRAYSON
Staring at the bed beside my piano, I let my mind wander to Evie again. I think back to the last time she was in my bed. The night before I left. We never talked about what happened two weeks before that in the days that followed. I don’t know why. Maybe we were both scared to bring it up again.
Regardless, I can’t get that night out of my head as my fingers dance over the keys. But I also can’t imagine how much I hurt her by not telling her goodbye.
The reminder sends a rush of memories through me. Ones I don’t want. My head throbs, my breathing coming faster and faster. I know where this is heading.
Needing to calm down, I walk into my bathroom and try running some cold tap water over my face and through my hair. I try to tame the insanity, but my hand sticks immediately. Apparently Frankie added too much of whatever was in that bottle she kept spraying on me earlier.
Pulling my hand back, I stare at my fingertips. What the hell did Frankie put in there? Glue? With a grunt of annoyance, I drop my hand to the counter and catch sight of myself in the mirror, squinting at it in the bathroom light. Most days, I don’tlook in the mirror. And if I do, my eyes drift away just as easily. This time, I stare at my reflection. Who the hell is this guy? What am I trying to prove coming back here? Because all I have now is anger and anxiety.
Moving from the bathroom, I make my way back to my room hoping to fall asleep. Although, I don’t know that I’ve slept in months—at least not soundly.
I sit on my bed and stare at my hands again. The scars, the reminders of a life I wanted to leave behind. My therapist said there’s a cure for it. A medication to help numb the pain and the reality you’re forced to accept after going to war. I don’t see how anyone can accept that kind of ugly. The carnage of kill or be killed. It’s savage and not a life you can easily separate yourself from once you’ve been exposed to it.
I swallow over the dryness in my throat and lift my head. My bags are on the floor and I think I remember leaving the pills in there. The ones I said I didn’t need but have refilled twice.
Peeling myself off the bed, I dig through the bag. I’m also careful not to look in the direction ofherhouse. You didn’t think I noticed her being home, did you? Well, I did, and I know if I allow myself the faintest peek at her room, I’m going to go over there and beg her to let me into her room and heart. And that’s not going to solve anything. I have to let her come to me.
When I find the bottle, I hold it up.Take before bed as needed.
Like that’s going to make it all go away. Is that how it’s supposed to work?
I swallow two back dry and then read the side effects. I don’t think I’ve ever read them before.May cause drowsiness, nausea, and headaches.
I’ll take anything over these terrifying thoughts of the walls closing in on me.