Page 23 of Grant’s Flame

“Grant,” Elijah said, a slight hint of warning in the one syllable of my name.

“What?” I barked and then instantly felt bad for it. My sour mood wasn’t his fault.

My friend’s voice softened to the peace-keeper I recognized. “This isn’t like you. I know you’re spooked about him figuring out it was Rio, but calling his son his spawn? Really? A little much, don’t you think?”

“He was such a dick when we spoke earlier, and then Abbi chewed my ear right after. And the storm of a woman I’m dealing with here.” I rubbed my throbbing forehead with the pads of my thumbs. “Shit, Elijah. I’m catching hell no matter which way I turn.”

“No one ever said playing the hero was easy, my man.”

“I’m not hero material, and we both know it,” I said dryly. “Anyway, doesn’t the hero always get the girl?”

“And gets to wear primary-colored tights!” he said with mock enthusiasm.

“I’ll be lucky to get a knee in the balls and a stern lecture.”

My buddy burst out laughing at my comment but eventually said, “I always figured it would take a ballbuster like that firecracker to settle you down.”

“Whoa there, big man. Who said anything about settling down? She’s my friend, and I care about her. I want to help her get over the death of her husband,” I protested.

“Over him and under you, I think is what you’re trying to say.”

Frustrated, I raked my hand through my hair again. I’d be bald by the end of this damn trip if I weren’t careful. “For Christ’s sake. Why do I have to keep repeating—”

“Cut the shit, Twombley. It’s me. One of your best friends. You’ve totally fucked that woman already; I can feel the possessiveness coming off you in waves. Probably again since you’ve been stowed away on the high seas if I were a betting man.”

“You have no idea what—”

“Yep! Knew it. But for fuck’s sake, man. Why is it so hard to admit you’re into her? Do yourself a favor and face the feelings you have for her.” He paused, and I was seconds from denying his assessment when he finished with, “You’ll be in a better place mentally to give her what she needs.”

And that was the thing about Elijah Banks that earned him such a cherished role in my life. He gave it to me straight, whether I wanted to hear it or not. Additionally, with the fucked-up relationship he had had with Hensley Pritchett years ago, he’d gained a ton of insight. The man knew what it took for a couple to stay together, even when circumstances seemed impossible. In the end, he might not have ended up with the girl on his arm, but he sure as hell did everything in his power to try. Elijah was the most emotionally grounded in our friend trio, and I could probably gain a lot of footing with Rio if I listened to his advice.

If I wasn’t wasting all my energy doggy paddling in the deep end of my pool of denial.

Concern filled his voice. “You still there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. Fuck all this, dude. I can’t cope with Bas accusing me of something and then hanging up on me before I had a chance to explain.” Then, admitting my more significant concern, “If he drags you into this too? I won’t forgive myself.”

“Come, come,” he tutted mockingly. “Let’s not get dramatic. Then we’ll all be running around like chickens with our heads cut off. Instead of just Bas.” Elijah snickered, and I couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t taking this seriously. We’d both laid witness while Sebastian Shark obliterated an enemy or two. I never dreamed I’d be on his hit list one day.

“Banks,” I said sternly. “Why don’t you see the implications here?”

“Oh, I see them. I just don’t care.” I could picture the careless shrug he gave while he said it. “Bas is going to do what Bas is going to do. We both know that. I swore I would never grovel to the man, and I’m holding to that.”

“I have no intention of groveling. I just want to explain what really happened that night.”

“Don’t you get it, Grant? He will see the situation the same, no matter what you say. He’s already appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner. Just like he always does.” Then he scoffed, “I, for one, won’t be showing up to his courtroom. Ever.”

“But—” I started, but my best friend cut me off.

“No, man, listen to me. I did what I did that night without apology. I was there for one of my best friends when he called me for help. I will never feel guilty about that. Did we cover up some shit we shouldn’t have, as far as the law is concerned? Probably. But do I feel remorseful about it? About helping you out? No. I don’t. Nor will I, no matter how deeply the almighty Shark sinks in his teeth.”

One last attempt to make him see reason. “Elijah—”

But he cut me off again. Damn this guy.

“It’s called conviction, Twombley.”

Or fucking idiocy. Either or.