Page 29

At first, I don’t say anything. I’m too surprised by the ink crawling across Grayson’s forearms. I would have never expected him to get a tattoo, let alone a few of them. I want to search every inch of his skin for more and beg him to tell me all the details as to why he got each one. But I don’t do that. Instead I’m more focused on why he’s making a big deal out of this. I let out a huffed breath, rolling my eyes. “It’s complicated, Grayson.”
Complicated doesn’t even do this situation justice. More like insanity. Grayson backs up another step, his retreat finding residence on his bed. Another moment passes and his hand finds his hair. Tugging once, he lets out an annoyed sigh but doesn’t say anything.
In the distance, I can hear Shane’s car as he leaves.
Grayson’s eyes remain downcast on the floor. I watch him, wishing I knew what he was thinking, and then again, I probably don’t want to know. Slowly, he looks up at me. I fidget as I wait for his words. “All right, un-complicate it then, Evie,” he challenges, his words short and holding annoyance with every syllable.
Before I can answer him, you and I both know I wasn’t going to, but Josh knocks on the door. “Grayson, you up?”
My eyes widen. “Fuck, don’t let him know I’m here,” I whisper and hide in the only thing I can think to hide in. His closet.
I’ve sunk to a new level of pathetic.
Even without seeing his face, I can hear the smile in Josh’s voice when he says, “Evie, you can get out of Grayson’s closet. I know you’re in there.”
Well, that didn’t exactly work in my favor, did it?
I open the door with a grunt. “How’d you know I was in here?”
“That’s where you always hide.”
“Not true. I used to hide under his bed. But I’m afraid I’d rip this stupid dress.”
Josh winks at me, leaning into the wall. “It’s definitely not stupid.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up.” Taking a seat on the bed next to Grayson, we exchange a look, but there’s no smile on Grayson’s face now. Hurt, maybe, but no amusement.
“How’d you piss off lover boy last night? He’s all kinds of fucked up this morning,” Josh tells me, his shoulder pressed into the doorframe. “I have to tell you, he’s dreamy.”
He’s being sarcastic. Beside me, Grayson says something under his breath but then looks over at me, as if he’s waiting for me to finally say something that makes sense to him.
He’s going to be waiting a long time.
“You’re not really going to go after him, are you?” he asks,bumping his shoulder into mine. He reaches for my hand, placing his own over mine.
I jerk my hand away quickly before I forget why I need to leave and why I should go call Shane. “I’m going to call him. Believe me, if I don’t, it will be a very long day for everyone.”
Without waiting for Grayson or Josh to say any more, I run down the hall only to come face-to-face with my brother in their kitchen helping himself to their food.
“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Ethan greets me with a smirk. How on earth he’s so chipper with so little sleep is beyond me and actually rather annoying. He’s always been a morning person.
Without returning the smile, I reach for the coffee pot, pour a cup into a mug next to the muffins Mrs. Gomez made. “I’m late for work,” I grunt, scorching my throat from the hot coffee, but continuing to swallow it before I make my way to the back door.
Ethan stops me as I open it. “Evie.” He sighs, and I know by the tone, this is his brother warning coming. “I’m only going to lie to Grayson for so long. You need to tell everyone the truth, including yourself.” His tips his head to the side. “I swear to God, Evie. I fucking find out that he’s hit you, or he’s the one behind all these freak accidents you keep telling me are causing bruises, I will fuck him up,” Ethan warns, his voice low. His eyes drift to my stomach and the bruises he knew about, and argued weren’t from falling down stairs. Deep down, Ethan knows Shane gave them to me when I told him I’d had a miscarriage. He knows because he took me to the hospital when I miscarried. It wasn’t Shane that was there for me. It was my brother. My blood who always has my back.
I don’t know what to say to him. How do you even start that conversation? I can’t blurt out that I’m in trouble. Or can I? How does it end? Who wins? Who does Shane hurt because of it?
“Hey, babes.” Frankie stumbles down the hall, a robe on, her voice less than chipper.
Ethan winks at her and hands her a cup of coffee. “Floor still moving?”
“Ugh, yes.”
Apparently, my little friend had a little too much to drink last night. “Maybe you should have gotten more sleep last night,” I point out, glaring at them. “And why are you over here? I left because you two kept me up.”
Ethan shrugs. “There’s food over here.”
He has a point.