Page 1 of Gravity

Prologue

Grayson

As I lay in the darkness of the Nelson’s living room, I reflect on the day I’ve had and how shit my life has drastically turned out when all I’ve ever done is be myself and protect those I love. For so long, I’ve been planning to start living on my own, tick that last box of independence and escape from the childhood home—fly the nest, like we all dream of doing. Yet once again, the unpredictability of my father has crushed that, along with everything else. It had been an ordinary day, the sun was out, my mom had been happy and then he’d come home, and everything changed. When Dad’s mood changes, so do the lives of those he spends time with. We never know what makes him switch, but when I step in to protect my mother, it angers him more, and he takes what he wants with no regret. I’d once looked up to him. I’d once respected him. I’d once wanted to become the man he was and make him proud. But nothing makes me sicker than seeing a man raise his fist to a woman. And that man doesn’t like me to protect her.

So, here I lay once again because his actions have torn my world apart at the age of twenty-two, my mom leaving a gaping hole in my heart when she fell into the path of his sweet talk and apologies, deciding to go back to him. Again.

Fucking bastard.

Closing my eyes, I try to get some sleep, but the cries of my mother are all I can hear. Her pleads. Her heartbreak. Her fucking apology she had no reason to be voicing. I’ve been staying at the Nelson’s house for the last few hours, which is ridiculous as my own house is right next door. With Asher having been my best friend since we were kids, this house—and the Nelsons—have been my second home and family. When Dad left and Mom said she needed some time alone, I came here. I don’t know what I would have done without them today.

As I lay in the silence and watch the shadows on the wall from the moon and trees outside, my attention is soon shifted to the pad of little feet coming down the stairs. I count her steps, and when I get to twelve, I know she’s paused, wondering whether to come any further, but the confidence in her soon has her creeping into the living room. I can sense her tiny body at the foot of the couch, hear her shallow breathing as she stands like a statue, but it’s the uncertainty in it that has me prising my eyes open.

"Shortcake. What are you doing out of bed? It’s past mid-night,"I ask Nora, Asher’s kid sister. She’s not long turned seven and is smaller than most kids her age.

"I had a bad dream,” she whispers with a sniffle, trying to hide the upset in her voice. Her head is bowed, and I can see she is biting on her bottom lip. Her hands grip on to the hem of her pajamas top that’s covered in tropical fish.

Sitting up, I dip my head to catch her eyes, secretly thanking her for breaking the chaos that has taken over my mind. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I just came to find Scuttle. I thought he was in my bed."

Scuttle is the soft turtle I bought for her fifth birthday. Two years later, and the little thing has hardly left her side. The girl is mad about the ocean and the life that lives in the coral reef.

I nod my head to the other couch, knowing that’s where I’d seen him last. "Try over there."

Finding her friend, she picks him up, grins, and tucks it under her arm. "Thank you, Grayson."

"No problem. Now go back to bed; you’ll be tired tomorrow.”

When she hesitates at the door, I realize she is stalling. Nora often has sleepless nights—she’s had them ever since I can remember—and they only occur when her dad has been deployed. Her hesitation tells me that tonight is one of those times.

"Hey, Shortcake,” I say quietly, not wanting to wake her mother or brother. If Asher knew she was down here, he'd send her straight to bed without asking her what was wrong.“You wanna grab some milk and cookies?”

I see her grin widen in the moonlight, and it brings a smile to my face. Pushing back the blanket, I clench my teeth to hide the pain of my ribs as I head to the kitchen to get us some mid-night snacks. By the time I’ve returned, she’s made herself comfortable on the couch, right where I had been lying.

“Here you go,” I murmur, sitting beside her.

All you can hear in the silence is crunching as she nibbles on her cookies, dancing her feet over the end of the couch as her short legs can’t reach the floor.

“Momma will be mad if she knew I had cookies,” she whispers. “I already brushed my teeth.” Her big blue eyes shine bright against the moonlight, a wash of worry claiming her features.

“Secret’s safe with me, Shortcake.”

“Momma also said we should never keep secrets.”

I wince as a soft chuckle leaves me, knowing I’ve heard her mother say that countless times before. “She’s right. But I think we are okay with this one.”

She beams, finishing the rest of her cookie. Licking her fingers clean, the pop sounds she makes cause me to smile.

Who would have thought a glass of milk and cookies would make me forget all my troubles? Then again, there is something about Nora that makes you forget everything for a while when she is in your presence.

"Are you sad today?” she asks, completely out of the blue. Her question rumbles something deeper inside of me, and I think back to what had played out earlier at home. It had been a regular day, but even our regular days have us walking on eggshells, wondering when the next hit is going to come. So yes, I’m really fucking feeling it at the moment.

"Yeah. I'm still a little sad."

“Because you got into a fight?” she whispers. As a child, Nora doesn’t know of my life at home: she just knows that sometimes I need down time, and this is the place I get it. But with a cut eyebrow, a swollen lip, and a throbbing radiating in my chest, it’s evident I’m injured, and she can see what’s happened.

“Yeah. Because I got into a fight.”