Page 30 of You First
Once she finished with the dogs, cleaned herself up, and went back inside, Meredith saw it was after eleven o’clock. She’d been there more than an hour.
And there was still no sign of Gray.
She’d called his name. She’d done a load of laundry. She’d gone in and out of the utility room, which was just outside his master suite, half a dozen times. And full sun seemed to stream through all the windows of the house. How was he still asleep?
A feeling of dread grabbed her by the stomach. What if he wasn’t asleep?
In the next instant, she was outside his door, knocking hard.
“Gray?” Panic flared in her voice. Hearing it, the dogs flanked her on either side
“Gray?” she called again, a little louder this time.
If he doesn’t answer in three seconds, I’m opening this door.
Vulcan let out a short whine.
One…
Juno echoed her brother.
Two…
Vulcan lifted a paw and scraped it softly against the door.
Three.
Nothing.
Meredith didn’t move. How upset would Gray be if she entered his bedroom only to discover he was fine? This was the third time she’d been to the house, and he’d always been behind the closed door. She’d begun to wonder if they’d ever meet face to face.
But this was different. Yesterday, they’d texted and talked, so she knew he was okay.
What if he had another seizure, hit his head, and is lying unconscious in a pool of blood?
With that thought, Meredith turned the knob and pushed into his bedroom, the dogs slipping in ahead her.
“Oh God.” He lay face down in the middle of the bed, the sheets bunched at his waist and his bare back and shoulders exposed. His head was hidden under a pile of pillows.
What if he’d seized and suffocated?
“Oh God,” she gasped again, crossing the room. “Gray?”
He didn’t move. When her thighs met the edge of the mattress, she froze. Vulcan and Juno stood at the foot of the bed, each wagging expectantly.
“What the hell do I do?” she hissed to the dogs.
They just stared at her, panting softly, their mouths hanging half open as though they were about to speak.
“G-gray.” This time she said his name with more force, though her voice shook with fear.
He didn’t move. He was dead. He had to be dead. And it was her fault. She’d waited too late to check on him.
“Shit.” She reached forward, laid a hand on his back, and shoved him roughly. And two things occurred to her at once: One, his skin was still warm. And two, for a dead man, he had excellent muscle tone.
A sound like a crashing wave made Meredith jump back with a squeak. A long tear of breath — as though his lungs hadn’t been filled in days — filled the room. The pile of pillows erupted as Gray pushed himself up.
“What the fuck…”
