Page 46 of The Valiant Knight (The Ravensmire Chronicles #2)

The Castle

Ten A.M.

S omeone just shoot him already to put him out of his misery. Yeah, he felt like death warmed over, and Graham knew that he deserved it. Last night had been questionable, and he owed so many people apologies.

When he drank, that darkness took over, and it was never a good time after that.

What he did recall, other than the humiliation he put himself through, was that he had promised Gryphen he’d give him time to find D’Artangnan.

Would he?

Yes.

He’d give him what he could.

It wouldn’t be easy, but he was curious as to what the man’s life was like now.

God knew he owed him an apology for being a dick and giving him an ultimatum.

As for last night, he felt nothing but ashamed of his behavior. It wasn’t fitting of him, and that was a problem.

He owed so many people apologies.

Like poor Tony.

That poor guy had to come find him, and he vaguely remembered him giving him a shower.

That had to be embarrassing for both of them. They didn’t even know each other that well, and here, he’d had to strip him down, prop him up, and shower him off.

God.

He was an idiot.

When he sat up, his belly rolled, and he knew he was going to be sick.

Here came the hangover ‘fun’ , and it looked like it was going to be a doozy.

Terrific.

There wasn’t a bigger asshole who deserved it either.

He.

Hauled.

Ass.

By some miracle, he made it to the bathroom, where he proceeded to vomit up what was left of his colon, his spleen, and what felt like his whole stomach lining.

Jesus.

How much did he drink?

Today was going to be absolutely miserable, and he knew it. All the chores, and making food…plus dealing with the whole stirred-up ghost thing was going to be brutal.

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to that.

Not.

At.

All.

How he wished he could crawl back into bed, but he needed this job.

It was all he had left.

Getting up from the floor, he wobbly made it into the shower, where he cleaned himself.

Again.

Why?

He felt dirty.

Well, that’s what happened when you allowed yourself to be some stranger’s cum dumpster. It was mind boggling that he could sink to such self-loathing, but here he was in the pit.

Only, he couldn’t worry about that. What he needed to worry about was the embarrassment that was at the front and center in his mind.

Graham only hated himself more for dragging innocent people down with him.

When he was finished showering, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back into his bedroom. When he picked up his phone, there were messages on it.

Oh, shit.

What did he do?

Opening his phone, Graham saw that the first one was from the guy he’d hooked up with last night, who humiliated him.

As he read it, his heart hurt.

‘I’m still thinking about your ass. Another round? Maybe we can do more? Your place for the full fucking?’

Yeah, no.

He wasn’t disrespecting the Blackhawks by bringing some hookup here to foul the place up, and he certainly was never seeing that guy again.

That wasn’t happening.

The reason they were one-night stands was you didn’t repeat the same mistake over and over again.

Pass.

As soon as it was read, it was deleted.

And blocked.

The next was a number that he didn’t recognize. When he opened it, he wished he hadn’t.

It was a dick pic.

And a message.

‘I got your number off of the wall. It says you’re willing to do anything for cock. Hit me up. I’m horny and need to fill your ass.’

The second he read that, he sank deeper and deeper into the misery.

If that was possible.

Now, he had even more random men texting him for booty calls. What was next? People sliding into his DMs?

God.

He hated his life.

There was only one solution.

He deleted and blocked that person, and he didn’t want to know what ‘wall’ he was talking about.

Last night was hazy, and he really hoped and prayed his number wasn’t on some loo wall in some shit dive. If it was, he’d weep.

Jesus.

H.

Christ.

Unfortunately for him, there was one message left, and that number was also blocked.

Why didn’t he just delete them without reading the messages?

That was easy.

He hated himself.

When he opened it, he saw it was from Gryphen, and not some random dude. He was either blocking his phone number, or he had a new one.

Well, he’d block it too if some asshole texted him in the middle of the night acting like a dumb shit.

Reading over it, it made him want to cry.

It appeared that last night wasn’t some bad dream, but it actually happened.

A little part of him hoped it hadn’t.

‘I’m worried about you. You’re my brother now, and when I needed you, you had my back.

We’ll get you through this. You have to fight for me.

I spoke to Elizabeth, and she is sending someone in a few weeks.

She just has to work on the schematics. Please hold on for me.

I love you, man. Fight hard! You promised to be at my wedding.

It’s not that far away. Give me six months to find D’Artangnan.

Please. Call me later. I want you to check-in every day with me.

I’m not letting you go under, Graham. I’m a Marine, and we leave NO ONE behind—G. ’

Because he needed to, Graham read it over again and again.

What he needed was non-stop company. He tended to get into trouble when he was left to his own devices. Graham appreciated that Elizabeth would be sending someone to keep him company.

He just hoped it wasn’t another couple. The last thing he wanted was to watch two more people fall in love.

It just might kill him.

Don’t get him wrong, but if he had to watch more people find their other half, he was taking the bridge.

Literally.

For now, though, he needed to own his choices, and get a grip.

He knew he was off the booze. It made him a hot fucking mess, and no one needed that.

Typing up a few messages, he deleted them all. Finally, he found one he liked.

‘I’m sorry that I worried you. I’m okay today.

Thanks for caring about me, Gryphen. It’s been a while since someone has.

I miss you and Ian a lot. The place isn’t the same when I’m alone.

I know how hard you fought for me last night.

I’ll keep my promise. I’ll see you for your wedding.

Thank her for trying to find D’Artangnan.

I need to know that he’s okay, and that he survived.

Tell Elizabeth that I appreciate all she’s doing for me, and I’ll thank her in person when I meet her.

I’ll talk to you later. Thank you for being my friend. I desperately need one.’

What he wanted to tell him was that he loved him and Ian, but he couldn’t.

Because it would be a lie.

He wasn’t able to love anyone anymore. His heart died all of those years ago when he chose to be stubborn over love.

When that was done, he knew that he had to get his day started. Despite feeling like shit, he had work to do.

The Blackhawks hired him to take care of Ravensmire, not get shitfaced drunk.

Pulling on some clothes, he dreaded chopping wood, but it had to be done, or the castle was going to be so cold tonight.

When he pulled on his flannel, he knew he needed aspirin, coffee, and a wakeup call.

Not necessarily in that order.

Wandering into the house, he really expected to be alone. He remembered them saying they were going to research today, so he would have the house to himself. Later, after chores, he was sleeping this hangover off.

Only, when he entered the kitchen, Graham was not alone.

Bark Twain came at him, and his barking only made his head throb.

Yeah, he deserved this.

When he saw Tony, he paused.

“Morning,” he finally said.

The other man got up from where he’d been working, and pointed.

“Sit,” he said, and for some reason, he did.

Who was he to argue, and the tone…someone was angry, and he didn’t blame him.

As he parked it at the island, Graham watched as the man pulled some Aspirin from the cabinet, and put them in his hand.

Without a word, Graham dry swallowed him, and the aspirin tasted like shit.

They were nasty.

Still not saying anything, the other man poured him a coffee, and stared at him.

Graham was braced for the onslaught of anger.

When he handed it to him, he then went to the toaster and popped in some bread.

The whole time, there was that uncomfortable silence in the room. Graham felt like he did when he was younger, and his parents were angry with him.

When he still had parents.

“Say something,” Graham said, unnerved by the ‘Dad stare’ that he was giving him.

So, Tony did.

“It’s time for some tough love,” he admitted. “You need to stop this bullshit, and end this need to die.”

That hung there.

Graham said nothing.

When the toast popped, he put it on a plate, and he walked it over to the man.

“Eat so you can keep the coffee down. It’s going to be a long day for you.”

Graham did as he said.

It had been a long time since anyone made him food and made him feel like he was a child in trouble.

As he took a bite of the bread, the crunching he heard made his head ache even more, but again, this was on him.

A few minutes went by, and he couldn’t take it any longer.

Finally, Graham spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Tony was curious.

“For?” he asked, not sure which part of last night he was apologizing for, but he bet it wasn’t the right part.

Call it a hunch.

“For making you take care of me. You could have left me there. I would have sobered up.”

No, he couldn't leave him.

What kind of a person did that to another human being? Not a good one.

As for the rest…

There was a good chance he wouldn’t have survived. It was crystal clear that the man was at rock bottom and not fighting to climb out.

On top of that, honestly, Tony didn’t mind taking care of him. He minded this man’s one way trip to his self-destruction.

Because there was no room for error when it came to saving someone, Tony was honest.

Someone needed a ‘come to Jesus talk’ , and since it was just the two of them, he was up to bat. The irony was that he’d had a moment like this, and someone saved him.