Page 42 of Grayson

“Okay so he snuck out and grabbed them.” She shrugs. “Just like Thursday last week he went to Starbucks and surprised us with our favorite lattes.”

I glance at Grayson to find him with his arms crossed over his chest while staring at my sister with a blank expression.

“I know.” She lowers her hand, placing her donut on the paper towel. “You both suck at tip toeing around. You may as well wear clogs and dance around the apartment banging pots and pans together. You suck at being quiet.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks.

“That’s right, I hear you.” She gives the two of us a look that makes me feel like the child.

“What do you mean, you hear us?”

“I mean that I know he’s been staying here. I know that he comes over after you think I’m in bed. But what I don’t understand is why you force him to leave only to return after I’m up. Seems like a waste of time.”

“Because we were waiting,” I say in a whisper.

“Waiting for what?” she asks, looking over at Gray, to which he then looks at me.

“Yeah Skye, waiting for what?” Of course he’d join forces with Tori.

“Well, you two are definitely not waiting to get naked.”

“Tori,” I gasp, hearing Gray chuckle, then hurrying to cover his mouth.

“I think you forget the walls are very thin,” she adds and I feel nauseous. “Don’t worry, I’ve been sleeping with my earbuds in. After the first night I decided it was for the best.”

She picks up her donut walking off to the living room.

“Stop creeping around the dark apartment like a couple weirdos. I can hear his apartment door close, like I’m not going to hear him shut ours seconds later and then your bedroom shortly after. By the way you really should oil the springs in your bed, those suckers are screaming for help.”

I cover my face, walk toward my bedroom and close the door. I’m done.

28

Grayson Hawk

I’m sitting in the corner of Ruby’s with three empty beer bottles on the table before me and a fourth I hide. There’s a heavy cloud hanging over us all as we remember the screams and cries of our last call that ended our earlier shift.

Drinking before ten in the morning in a bar that isn’t even open to the public yet is a bad sign. Coop knew without asking that we all needed this.

Choir practice, the support of the men that stood side by side while watching a mother grieve the loss of not only her husband but her only child.

Hayes and Hollywood sit across from me. Coop is sitting on a barstool behind the bar, Brax and Atta sitting opposite him. Fed, the crazy bastard is laying on his back on the pool table and Myles, he’s face down on the table next to me, after way too many shots.

“I can’t get the sound of her crying out of my head,” Coop says through the silence of the bar, each one of us reliving the horrific night. “Me neither,” I confess.

“Five minutes,” Hayes says.

“Even three,” Hollywood mumbles and we all know what they mean without asking.

It’s the amount of time that would have made a world of difference. We could have saved them had we arrived a few minutes earlier. A woman wouldn’t have been a widow and she wouldn’t feel like her entire world has ended knowing she won’t be holding her little girl anymore. No more little giggles in the night.

“You’re gonna have to give Joey and Axel a call,” Fed grumbles from the opposite side of the bar. “They may have to scrape the eight of us up off the floor before they open this place later.”

“Call was made on the way over here,” Coop assures us. “They’ve been warned.” It wouldn’t be the first time they cleaned up our messes and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

“Did you call Skye?” I look up at Hayes and shake my head. “Not a good time.” I didn’t want her seeing me like this. “I’ll explain later.” Or maybe I won’t. “She’s working anyway.”

The hours tick by. We’d gone through all the stages. Grief, anger, acceptance, and now we’ve rolled right into incoherence. Singing along with the radio, boxing while standing on top of the bar or even the pool table. Probably not the best choice considering most of us could barely stand on two feet without swaying.

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