Page 44 of Grant’s Blaze

“He is. I can very much vouch for our brother,” I asserted. “He and the monster have lady callers all the time. Well, one lady caller in particular.”

I nodded enthusiastically, mostly because it felt so good to not be the one in the hot seat. When these two hadn’t yet been on board with Rio and me seeing one another, they constantly gave me shit about spending time with her. Even when I had insisted that she and I were just friends, they’d continued to badger me about it.

Too bad, Mr. Banks. Turnabout’s fair play, dude.

“Well, here we are with some classic Twombley,” Elijah issued, scowling hard and folding his arms. “Anyone locate that remote yet? Because this channel has definitely been changed.”

Sebastian pushed aside his coffee cup in order to fully steeple his fingers. “He’s right,” he growled. “Your tale is missing some key parts, G-man. Get on with it.”

“Fine.” I shoved aside my own cup now too. “You really want all the ugly details, kids? Then that’s what you’ll damn well get.”

Before I could hit the reset button, Elijah put his hand on my arm. The action was probably meant in comfort, but it violently startled me instead. The memories were already starting to take over, immersing me so deeply that I jolted to my feet. My chair flipped backward, smacking into the pristine plaster of the kitchen wall.

“Hey, hey. All right, man. Easy.” But Elijah’s soothing tone didn’t reach me.

“Those bastards starved me like they had a schedule they were following,” I grated out. “One day I would have a very small meal and some dirty water, then two days with nothing at all. If they caught me trying to ration it for the off days, they took it all away.”

A chill ran up my spine, and my whole body gave an involuntary shudder. Weirdly, that was when I finally noticed that Elijah was on his feet too. He stood in front of me but gave me plenty of space to breathe.

“Grant. Fuck. I’m so sorry, man.”

At some point, I dropped my face into my hands and slithered down the wall until my ass hit the kitchen floor. I couldn’t look at either of them in that moment, but I could feel their expectant eyes boring into me.

Worried, pitying eyes.

“Hey,” Elijah tried again. “Dude—”

“Don’t.” I cut him off right there. “All right? Just don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I watched his demeanor change, and I knew he was changing tactics. “I was going to say you’re totally fixing that wall you just fucked up.” Then he muttered, “Asshole.”

Fucking Banks. Always knew the right thing to say and when to say it. I started laughing and shaking my head back and forth. I did it slowly at first but then a bit faster.

Finally, I lifted my face to look at the two best friends I could ever dream of having.

“God, you guys. What am I going to do? I’m so fucked in here.” I knocked on my head like I’d seen Rio do so many times and instantly stopped. I knew how alarmed I felt when I saw her do that to herself. I wasn’t about to go down that path.

Elijah knelt down on the floor beside me, and Sebastian shifted over until he was straddling the closest chair backward.

“I think we need to get you set up with a therapist, my friend,” Elijah proposed. “Probably the sooner the better. Maybe one who deals with PTSD, like Dr. Mallory suggested?”

It wasn’t a bad idea. And neither was this sharing shit either. The more I talked about what happened to me, the more I knew that the lasting effects on my psyche weren’t going to just go away on their own like I’d been hoping.

“In the meantime,” Bas said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I got the distinct impression, from your words specifically, that I’m somehow involved in this. Are you feeling stable enough to talk about that part now? If not”—he held his hands up in supplication—“I get it. And it’s okay. We can hold off and do it with a doctor in whatever way they suggest. But if you can talk about it, I would like to know what’s going on, because I have a family I need to protect. And, like it or not, that includes your girlfriend by extension.”

Elijah choked on a laugh. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” Though he ultimately uttered it under his breath, it was loud enough for us all to hear.

“Wasn’t anything I wasn’t thinking,” I assured him.

“So you’re in agreement?” Bas urged. “Maybe it’s best to get as much as possible out in the open?”

“Yeah, man,” I said at once. “Right here and now. It’s for the best.”

“What’s for the best is making sure you come out of all this with as few scars as possible,” Bas insisted. “So if you’re really not ready—”

“You know a better time and place?” I retorted. “It has to be here, man. It has to be now. It’s not like we can break out this subject matter at work. Possible eyes and ears in the walls, right?”

Elijah cleared his throat roughly. “Dude has a point.”