In spite of myself, I was actually happy to see Grant. Somehow, in less than two days, I was homesick. I walked over, and Grant had his back to me again as he nodded at something Forrest said while he squinted shiftily around. I came up and gave Grant a hug from behind. He gasped and reached high to pat my shoulder as I soaked his back, and then he was snickering. Reaper eyed me like he might toss me back into the water and shoot me. The gun sticking out of the holster on his belt made that an easy bet if I pissed him off too much.
“Hey.” Grant twisted around until his back was pressed to Reaper’s chest and moved his hand to the top of my head to ruffle my hair like I was five instead of twenty-five. “It’s great to see you in a good mood. You’ve been really down.”
I shrugged, but he stared at me with his understanding brown eyes, seemed to want more words, so I said, “King surprised me, that’s all.”
Forrest tittered, and I realized he had a drink in front of him that hadn’t been there before I went into the pool not long ago, and all that was left were a few melting ice cubes. His cheeks were rosy and his smile was too big. “You’re the king of understatements. Get it?”
Jester groaned, and even the evil red-and-black costumed clown on his arm seemed to be squinting like the joke was bad.
Scar let out a good, solid belly chuckle that took over his face and had some crow’s feet forming in the corners of his dark eyes. “Fucking smartass. He’s still a prospect.”
I turned and snatched a fluffy snow-white towel from a stack on a low table nearby. “Yeah.”
Jester leaned forward and I held my breath. He rarely spoke unless he had a good reason. “You’ll get voted in, kid. Don’t worry.”
I shrugged. “I’m going to go change. Might turn in.”
Forrest smiled at Scar in a way that made me completely uncomfortable. The twist of his lips had a purposeful naughty-boy curve I didn’t think would look right if I tried it… but how could it not? He held his shoulders and back a certain way, something he just seemed to know how to do, so there was no mistaking he meant for Scar to maybe… want him. “So, was King worried that Hunter would be in danger here with me in the Bad Apple?”
Scar grunted. “Nah, we’re the goodwill brigade. Out spreading fucking joy and shit.”
“King wanted Grant escorted on his trip,” Reaper said in a low, rusty voice that shivered goose bumps up my arms and down my spine. I was always careful to keep an eye on him just in case he suddenly remembered I’d been part of that absolutely insane thing with Maggot where he’d lost his tattoo.
I turned to walk away, but I still heard Grant tell Forrest, “Your father wanted me to check on you and make sure you got home okay. Also, he misses you, Hunter,” he shouted after me. “Answer your damned phone if you don’t want visits.”
When I got to the door, I spun around again. “I’ve barely been gone. All he’d have me doing at home is shit work. Why answer? Can’t do anything for him while I’m here.” The conversations near the pool dimmed and a few stray eyeballs zeroed in on me.
Scar laughed. “Yeah,hisshit work. He needs you. When we left, he was busier than a one-legged scammer in an ass-kicking competition.” Jester laughed and smacked him on the back.
Rolling my eyes, I waved at them and opened the door. Inside the air was slightly cooler, since the staff didn’t seem to adjust the AC, even at night, and I shivered. Somehow, seeing people who should be my friends sitting there together made me miss Jamie. When I was with him, I was never quite sure I was doing the right things with my hands, or face, or lips… and I felt… wound up in some good and bad ways.
Jamie was simpler to deal with, too, than our family situation. I understood him. He was a man trying to live life in a world that required violence. Sometimes, even if you didn’t want to do it, you had to go out and hurt a few people to get along. It was just the way things were. Dread slithered through me and curled into my stomach. Eventually he might decide I needed to be hurt. I hoped not, but my track record with people wasn’t great.
I’d barely gone a couple of steps along the hallway when the door opened behind me and Grant rushed inside. “Aaron’s not happy, Hunter. About... the way you two left things.” Grant winced and sort of twiddled his fingers my direction.
“Doubt it. King doesn’t want me there.”
“Bullshit, and you know it. You care too. He’s worried.”
Fury pelted through me and made my chest vibrate inside, like it might pop. “Good.”
Grant’s chin stuck out—not much, but enough to be noticeable—and reminded me of King. “Good? You want Aaron upset? You don’t mean that.”
“He was the one who did wrong. Not me.” I cinched the towel around my waist and ducked my head to pay attention to tying it there, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Grant let out a sympathetic sound when I glanced up again, and that made me want to yell and punch something—not him, never him, maybe a wall. The last thing I would want to do is hurt someone I care about.
“Can’t you see?” Grant took a step toward me. “When that happened, he was younger than you are right now, and—”
“No. Now, not then. Then too, but fuck!”
Grant shuffled closer, and I shoved him, but not with the strength I wanted. He just kept coming and wrapped his arms around me. His hold was friendly. I felt uncomfortable but stayed with him while he clung on, and eventually that rage that made my thoughts slow and prickly cranked down a few notches to hang out in my gut at a low simmer. I rested my cheek on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Grant whispered. “I hated all of the foster families I was trapped with until Aaron took me away. I had Kai.” He propped his chin on my head. “I can imagine how awful things might’ve been for you. I survived some myself.”
“I made a lot of my own trouble.”
He leaned back until I had no choice except to look at him. “Don’t we all?”
