Page 131 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“Shit. He thinks he’s Chris Rock now with the jokes,” Grayson chimes in as the crack of a bottle of beer opening sounds off.
“Thanks for the visit, but you guys can go now.” Their banter is not what I want to deal with right now, but it’s obvious my statement falls on deaf ears. They don’t move. “Okay, then I’m going to ignore you guys like you aren’t here.”
Grayson swears at me when I reach over and snake his fresh beer from his hand without asking. I take a long pull on it, lay my head on the back of the chair, close my eyes, and tune them out.
And think of Emerson.
It works for a little bit until something Grady says breaks through my thoughts and catches my ear. If he’s purposely trying to get me to talk, it works.
“I bet you anything he couldn’t handle it,” Grady says.
“Couldn’t handle what?” I ask, lifting up one eyelid to look at them
“You think?” Grayson interjects as if I’m not even here and hadn’t spoken.
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck are you two talking about?” I growl. I’m tired. I’m drunk. And fuck me, I miss Emerson, and for more reasons than just because. This guilt and regret are eating away at me from the inside out.
“You looked her up, didn’t you?” Grady says, prompting me to close my eyes again and exhale. “Curiosity got the better of you, and you looked her up. Pulled her file or whatever the fuck you cops do so that you knew what you were facing.”
Ignore him. He’s just trying to goad you into talking.
“Just like our Grant to need all his ducks in a row so he knows exactly how to handle a situation, especially when that situation is a feisty, sexy handful who doesn’t just fall into his arms like every other woman on the planet,” Grayson adds with a chuckle that grates on my last nerve.
“Too bad a person isn’t a situation,” Grady says, the statement hitting its mark. Good thing I’ve had enough to drink that I’m mellow or I might just have landed that punch I was jonesing for yesterday.
Don’t take the bait.
“True,” Grayson muses. “I’m not saying that I’d ever follow through with it, but I can’t say I blame him.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s natural to want to know what you’re dealing with. I mean . . . we all know whatever happened to Em was fucked up . . . so, maybe Grant was being a good guy and wanted to know what triggers to avoid or some shit like that for her own benefit.”
“You’re giving him too much credit,” Grady says, and I clench my jaw. They may be enjoying making their damn point, but that doesn’t mean I have to react to what they are egging me on to. “You know our Grant. He just wants to swoop in and save the day like always.”
Another dig. Another bullshit dig.
“He did save our asses a few times,” Grayson says.
“But this is different.”
“It is different. It’s Emmy. And Grant’s in love with her.”
Grady snorts. “Hasn’t he always been?”
Patience snapped. Buttons pushed.
“Will the two of you shut the fuck up already? You’ve made your goddamn point even though you have no fricking clue what the hell happened,” I lie because they nailed it on the head, which makes it even worse. That I’m that fucking readable and predictable. I shove up out of the chair to pace, and it takes me a few seconds to gain my balance. The beer is hitting me, and I already know I need it to hit a lot harder.
Because they’re right.
I am in love with her.
Jesus Christ, when the fuck did that happen?
Probably about second grade.
