Page 59 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

MOM

confession

since you’ve been home, I check on you to make sure you’re still breathing in your sleep

I used to do it when you were a baby

seems I never grew out of the habit

the love of a mother never dims, no matter the age of their child

and my love for you is endless

G rayson’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since we left his house two hours ago.

I thought he’d grumble and moan through the car ride but he was utterly silent. Which left me stewing for two hours about whether I made the right call for him or not. The only thing that stopped me from turning the car around and driving him back home was the fact that he never asked me to.

My gut is telling me he wants to see his parents, that he wants this reunion, but didn’t know how to make it happen.

The moment his mom answered the phone and heard my plan, she broke down crying with utter grief and heaviness. It’s also when I found out Grayson hasn’t seen them since the funeral, and I realized just how much Grayson has been punishing himself for a crime he didn’t commit.

I spent all night reading every article about the crash and was trying to put as many pieces of the puzzle together, but it wasn’t until I spoke with his mom that I learned everything.

A year and a half ago on the way to a party, Drew asked Grayson to pull over because his phone fell down the side of his chair.

Grayson obliged and Drew found his phone, and as he got back in the car, Grayson merged back onto the road, driving through an intersection that was green for him.

Drew was buckling his seatbelt when a truck flew around the corner out of nowhere and T-boned Grayson’s truck.

Drew went flying through the windshield and died immediately upon impact.

Despite the utter destruction to his car, Grayson walked away with nothing but a concussion.

He got out of his car after it stopped rolling and ran to his brother, only to find his neck at an odd angle.

Grayson passed out after dialing 911 and then came to with paramedics around him talking about how if he had waited two seconds, they would have gone through the intersection just fine.

When I heard that, my teeth clamped down in anger so hard, I swear something snapped.

I wish I could personally go slap some sense into those paramedics.

While it might have been true, they should have been talking about how the truck driver who had one too many shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel.

It didn’t help matters when news broke and tabloids chose a clickbait headline: Grayson Crawford murders younger brother in drunk driving accident. They conveniently left out that he wasn’t even the one drinking.

Everyone involved around him besides his team and his family should be ashamed of themselves. Any time I think about it I’m consumed with such rage it’s a miracle I haven’t caused any bodily harm to those who wronged him.

It’s been quiet for so long that when Grayson’s voice fills my car, it startles me so much I jump.

“Can you come inside with me? ”

My gaze cuts to him quickly before moving back to the road. The navigation says we’re only seven minutes away. “I think it’s more of a?—”

“Please don’t say private matter.” He clears his throat. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you were there by my side.”

The vulnerability and sincerity in his words cuts me deep.

“Of course,” I say without hesitation this time. “Whatever you need.”

“I just need you,” he whispers before going back to staring out the window.

The seven minutes passes by far too quickly. In no time, I’m turning left into a driveway that leads to a quaint two-story house. The door opens before I have time to cut the engine.

Allie, Grayson’s mom, steps out of the house. She’s wearing a standard white T-shirt and light wash jeans, her soft blonde locks cut at her shoulders. Even from the car I can see her eyes have welled with tears.

But she doesn’t move, doesn’t push him.

It’s as if she’s seen a ghost.

A tear rolls down her ashen face, her chest heaving as a man, no doubt Grayson’s dad, Carlton, joins his wife. His own eyes are puffy and red as he wraps a supportive arm around Allie.

Grayson looks down at his hands, his eyes filling with tears. “I can’t do it.”

The words are so guttural they cleave my chest in two.

“You can. I’m right here, Grayson,” I say, clutching his hand, surprised that he holds onto it tightly like a lifeline. “I’m right here. It’s going to hurt at first, but it will lessen.”

“But—” His voice cracks, clogged with emotion. “What if they look at me and all they can see is the person who took their son?”

Arrangement rules be fucking damned when he’s sitting in my car looking as sad as he is. Placing my hand on his cheek, I force him to lift his head to mine, to lock those baby blues filled with guilt on my pleading browns.

“All they see is you, Grayson. Their beautiful, kind, caring son. ”

He sucks in a deep breath before ripping his gaze from mine and forcing it to look at his childhood home. I know the second he sees his parents because his chest caves.

I’m not sure what does it, but in the next breath his shaking hand lifts to the door handle and pushes it open in one swift fluid motion.

I watch, transfixed, as Allie and Carlton hold their breaths until their son steps out of the car. And then they can’t hold back anymore.

A sob tears free from Allie’s chest, one so devastating it brings tears to my eyes. She flies down the driveway, throwing herself into Grayson’s arms.

“Thank you,” she whispers between sobs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Grayson wraps his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her shoulder despite the height difference. The movement elicits more heaving sobs from his mom and uncontrollable tears.

Carlton is more slow about his approach as if he can’t believe the sight before him. But it isn’t long before he’s wrapping his arms around his wife and son and crying too.

G rayson couldn’t step inside his childhood home.

Allie and Carlton didn’t push him, especially not when it looked like he had been sucker-punched as he tried to step through the door. No one asked why, but my best guess is that he isn’t ready to face the memories that come with the house.

The dinner table that Drew won’t sit at ever again. The family photos along the walls, the bedroom from Drew’s teen years. I don’t blame Grayson. Memories are beautiful, but they can turn on a dime.

It’s nowhere near the same, but after my dad left, I couldn’t go home for weeks. My brain struggled to process that his boisterous laugh wasn’t going to greet me, and then my thoughts left me wondering if any of it was ever real for him. So I understand Grayson’s aversion.

He took a huge step today seeing his parents; he can take his time with the next.

Allie suggested a new family-owned restaurant that had opened in town and that’s where we are now, filling our bellies at five o’clock with shared plates of pasta and a large Margherita pizza.

Allie smiles at me over the top of the pizza, her eyes, so similar to Grayson’s glancing between me and him on my right. “So, how long have you two been dating?”

The pasta that I placed in my mouth goes down the wrong hole and Grayson, to his utter delight, rubs circles on my back. “The thought of that shouldn’t make you want to die, Blaze,” he whispers in my ear.

Before I can respond, Grayson is handing me a glass of water and turning to his parents. “Actually, Bella and I have a mutually beneficial agreement and despite my attempts to make her actually fall for me, Bella is sadly just my assistant.”

Allie and I are both looking at Grayson like he’s grown two heads.

“An arrangement?”

You’ve been trying to get me to fall for you?

I wish I could say the words, but the vowels and letters are stuck on my tongue. By his smirk dancing with humor, he knows I want to grill him right now.

“IceHawks are thinking of trading me.”

Carlton’s brows shoot up as Allie gasps. “Why on earth would they?—”

Carlton places a gentle hand on her lap, cutting his wife off as his gaze turns sad. “I think, dear, that Grayson may have pushed himself too soon…?”

His statement is more of a question, his eyes imploring, and at Grayson’s quiet nod, Carlton sighs. “That’s all right. People make mistakes, but people can also turn things around. ”

“A-are you doing okay now?” Allie asks, her hands wringing together in her lap.

Grayson blows out a heavy breath, adverting everyone’s gaze. “I was…”

“Grayson was sober for two months,” I state proudly. “And I know that the next length of time will be even longer because, my god, your son is competitive.”

Beside me, Grayson bursts out with shocked laughter. His hand lands on my lap beneath the table, squeezing gently as he mouths, Thank you .

Carlton points at his son. “It’s not about how many times you fall down?—”

“But how many times you get up,” Grayson finishes for him.

Allie reaches across the table. “We’re here to help in any way you need. Please let us help, Grayson.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes locked on his mom’s. “I will…now. I’m sorry.”

“No sorry necessary. You’re here with us now and that’s all that matters.” Her smile is watery and she can’t seem to let go of her son until Carlton reaches over and locks his fingers with his wife’s in support.

Grayson’s hand remains on my leg, tightening as he struggles to suggest, “Maybe we can do…family dinners again?”

Allie’s eyes brighten.

A deep crimson tint spreads up Grayson’s neck. “But maybe at my house and Bella can cook?” He looks to me then, the question in his gaze.

I nod emphatically. “Absolutely! You can meet Bambi!”

“Bambi?” Allie asks.

Grayson’s face lights up as he pulls out his phone showing photos of Bambi to his parents and gushes about the dog that stole his heart. He also shows some of the photos Kieran sent over today of Bambi since he’s watching her.

That was an interesting interaction to watch. I’ve never seen someone read another person so well. It was like he could actually see Grayson’s thoughts. All Kieran did was come in, look at him for a brief moment, and in the next, he was hugging his best friend and saying how proud he is of him.

No lectures on him drinking and going AWOL for a weekend. Just praise that he was trying to rise again.

Grayson’s smile is full and wide as he swipes through endless photos of Bambi, all the while Allie drinks in the sight of her son. From that point forward, all topics are safe, and tears somehow remain at bay for the remainder of dinner.

Until later that evening when we’re walking to the parking lot. Grayson’s walking ahead of me with his father when Allie stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you for bringing my boy home,” she chokes out.

“I owed him one,” I admit.

Her smile is wide, her eyes bright. “Whatever the reason, all I care is that you brought my boy back to me.” She wraps me in a hug so tight I can’t breathe, but I don’t mind, especially as her voice fills with emotion.

“You brought him back to me, and I will be grateful to you for as long as I live.”

With no words I squeeze her back, hoping that’s enough. It must be, because she chuckles softly under her breath as she pulls back and casually throws out, “You two will make a gorgeous couple when you both stop being stubborn.”

My jaw practically unhinges, but all I can do is laugh because on the ride back to Grayson’s house, I can feel it between us.

Something has shifted, whether it was his words at lunch, the soft confession that he’s been trying to get me to fall for him, or the emotionally charged day.

I find that I don’t mind the change, though, especially as when I leave for the evening, Grayson plants a featherlight kiss atop my forehead and whispers, “Thank you.”