Page 82 of Seeing Grayscale

Ididn’tevenhearhim come in.

Didn’t hear the garage or the door in the kitchen shut.

My face is on fire, my fingers shake. Carefully pulling the evidence from under the dresser, I twist around and slowly drag my eyes to Hunter’s. If I didn’t know him—if he were anyone else—I’d say he’s not upset. There are no stereotypical expressions. That’s how I know he’s pissed. Potentially livid, even.

“I was looking for paper and—”

He crosses the short space, bends, and snatches the papers from my hands. “I’m only going to ask one more time.What areyou doing, Gray?” The sharp crack of his voice along with the deep rumble of bass damn near stops my heart.

Hunter has never spoken to me like this before.

My lips flap uselessly, arms curling around my middle as I prepare for the worst. Flashes of my second foster home pierce my skull, sending me back in time to when I was fourteen. “I was trying to find paper,” I whisper, afraid to even look at him.

“These,” he growls, waving the papers around, “areprivate.”

I’m fucking aware that they are private. I didn’t mean to find his stash of dirty secrets. What asshole doesn’t have a single piece of paper in their house?

The urge to say all that is strong. After everything he’s said to me, all the shit we’ve shared, he’s going to get this upset over an ancient std test and a pilot’s license? It wasn’t my intention to snoop. It wasn’t my sole fucking purpose in life to uncover something Hunter sees as private.

The way he’s looking at me, though, isn’t fair. He’s looking at me like everyone else does.

Homeless.

Thief.

Scum.

The worst of the worst. And all I did was open a damn envelope. Anger bubbles in my chest, rising into a dangerous boil. Whipping my head up, I uncurl my arms, ball my fists, and let him have it.

“Must be nice to have something private at all.”

Hunter reels back. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t act so pretentious.” With some struggle, I get on my feet and face off with him. “You left me hereall day,” I snap. “Do you know what I was doing? I was looking for a way to better myself. Jobs. Shelters. A way to get the fuck out of your hair because Iknowyou’re going to get tired of this.” I gesture between us. “You bought me this stupid phone, never told mehow to use it, and I can’t remember half the shit I found. So, yeah, I had to search every nook and cranny towrite it down. Like a normal person.”

When he simply glares at me, chest pumping with each harsh breath, I continue, “All of your ‘help’ has amounted to jack shit. You aren’t helping me. You’re fucking with my head—my emotions—feeding me an illusion!”

“I got you medical care, made sure you were off the street. Spared you from another attack,” he says, deathly calm, an unmistakable edge to his voice.

“So? You aren’t the first.”

“Caleb?”

The name is like nails on a chalkboard, grating and nauseating. “Sure.”

“And look how well that turned out,” he mutters hotly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Oh fuck you, Hunter.”

“Fuck me?” he barks, that silent anger he keeps in check quickly turning explosive. “Do you even understand the lengths I’ve had to go to do this much? Do you even care? Every minute I spend with you riskseverythingI’ve worked for. My entire life could get taken away like that!” He snaps his fingers. “But you don’t care, do you? An unmarked envelope, tucked away out of sight, and you didn’t have the decency to think, maybe I shouldn’t invade his god damn privacy!” The boom of his yell echoes off the walls.

“At least youhaveprivacy to violate!” I scream. “You haveeverything! Fucking everything! The last time I had any semblance of privacy, I was twelve years old!” My chest pumps wildly, arms trembling with how much pain I’m releasing. “Don’t throw your bullshit on my shoulders because you’re too weak to stand up to one person,” I slice through him with my words.

His jaw tics, eyes dampening with angry tears.

“And don’t tell me I don’t care,” I say, letting some heat slip from my voice. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

For long seconds, we glare at each other. I feel so stupid for thinking any of what we’ve done means something more than what he’s sworn up and down it did.

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