He’d been the other guy during his self-imposed breakdown. He’d fucked everything he could, while Graham had been the victim of their abuse.
His heart hurt again, but in a different way.
When he finished decimating the phone number, he headed out.
Washing his hands again, another man came in, and headed right for that stall. When he closed the door, he heard him get annoyed.
“Who the fuck removed that slut’s number?” he muttered.
When the door opened, Michael was standing there.
“Me. Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, shoving the man backward so he landed his ass on the toilet.
His eyes went huge.
“Start telling anyone and everyone that‘the slut’has someone who will beat their asses if they call him again. Am I clear,LAD?” he asked, his knife out, and the blade pointed right at him. “Or I can make you scream like a stuck pig. Pick your poison.”
He shook his head, wildly.
“I’ll spread it around! I swear! Put it away! I won’t call him or look for him!”
And that’s what he wanted to hear.
Then, Michael walked out.
At the table, he tossed some money on it, and continued past Gabby and Finn.
He had to get back to the house.
Apparently, he had to have a‘come to Jesus talk’with Graham. He was pissing his life away, and doing something so incredibly dangerous.
While they weren’t a couple, someone had to intervene. He’d heard plenty tonight about the man’s penchant for self-destruction.
He needed to say something.
Because someone was on a collision course with death.
Why did he care?
Michael had no idea.
But unfortunately, he did.
Way.
Too.
Much.
* * *The Ravensmire Castle* * *
Eight P.M.
The Grounds
Well, Graham‘I’m a constant disappointment’Lainey was drunk again.
Oh, and that was so stupid, but Graham didn’t give a shit. Honestly, he didn’t care about himself enough to care that this was his last night.
