Page 23 of Entangled

I’m shoved up against the wall, my breath knocked out of me, before I can say another word. With his hand wrapped around my throat, Grayson presses up against me. “You think thatboy,”he spits, “can give you what you need? What you fucking crave?”

“I was more than happy to let him try!” I counter, baring my teeth. Grayson’s heady smell surrounds me, intensifying with the glare in his dark eyes. His nostrils flare as he tightens his grip on my throat. Just when I think he’s going to snap and devour me, he drops me instead.

Pointing his finger, he warns, “If I see him here again, I’ll beat him to a fucking pulp. Don’t test me!”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left fuming with crescent moons on my palms.

CHAPTER10

GRAYSON

FEBRUARY 11TH, 2016

I’m scanningthe crowds for Willow when I feel a hand on my shoulder blade. As I turn around, I’m met with Margaret’s sorrow-filled eyes. “What a beautiful vigil, Grayson.”

My smile is weak. I’ve put this off for a long time now because I wasn’t ready to accept the truth: my daughter is gone. Skelton is a small town with a tight-knit community, so today's turnout is overwhelming. The sun is out, warming tear-streaked cheeks and offering a glimmer of light on an otherwise dark and gloomy day.

It turns out Margaret was only the beginning. I’m shaking hands and accepting condolences for the next half an hour before the crowd finally starts to thin.

I need to apologize to Willow for what I did the other week, barging in like that and acting like a jealous boyfriend. I had no right. I don’t know what the hell it is about her that makes me lose my wits, which is why I’ve kept my distance. I can’t let myself feel these emotions. I’m a middle-aged man. The last thing I need is to entangle myself with a teenage girl.

I look for her one last time, but she’s gone. Despite being Chloe’s best friend, she kept a low profile at the back during the vigil. Willow prefers to blend in rather than stand out. On a day like this, I wanted to respect that side of her. It’s why I never asked her to do a speech.

I find her waiting for me on my porch when I arrive home. I’m surprised, but at the same time, I’m not. Today has been an especially difficult day for us both.

“Can I come in?” she asks as I approach.

My eyes skate down to the bottle of wine in her hand, and I frown. “Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?” Rising to her feet, she steadies herself on the railing. “Mom’s stash.”

“I haven’t seen your mom in a long while,” I comment, unlocking the front door.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” she says. “She’s never home.”

I help Willow into the hallway and shut the door behind us. As I walk her into the living room, she swigs her bottle of wine and I snatch it off her, placing it on a high shelf where she can’t reach it.

Unfocused fiery, blue eyes find mine. “What the hell, Grayson?!”

“You’ve had enough!” I grab her arm and drag her over to the couch. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I guide her to sit.

“Why did you drink so much?”

“You, out of everyone, should know.”

I lower myself down across from her on the coffee table. “You’re not dealing well with Chloe’s disappearance.”

Her bitter, drunken laughter fills the room as she falls back against the cushions. She pins me with her eyes. “Is grief linear? Is it okay to almost drink yourself to death for a few months, provided you get your shit together after,” she makes quotation marks, “‘an agreeable amount of time’ has passed?”

“I never said that.”

“I didn’t let myself feel at first. You had too much of your own grief to handle. I wanted to make you smile again, but now… I can’t be strong for-fucking-ever.”

“You want more alcohol? Is that it? You think it’ll numb the fucking pain?” I growl. I should discourage her instead of supplying a minor with alcohol but fuck that. If she wants to hurt for one day, I’ll let her.

At least she’s safe.

I clap my thighs and stand up to retrieve her wine. There’s a twinge of guilt when she drinks it all, but she’s weeks away from being a legal adult. She’s not a child.

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