Page 81 of Shattered Mind

“Oh, thank God,” I exhale in relief and the four of us dissolve into a fit of giggles.

Eventually, I drag my aching body out of bed and into the bathroom to wash the grime from my body as much as my injuries will allow me.

My mind wanders to Grayson as I carefully run a brush through my hair. He hasn’t shown his face since I’ve been conscious, and although it stings, I can’t help but worry that my accident is going to make him pull away from me. I feel like we’ve come a long way since our ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement begun. Grayson opened up to me about Rueben and the affects his death had on him, and I thought we were finally getting somewhere.

I know he told me at the beginning that it would never be more that sex for him and at the time I was okay with that. I didn’t think I’d fall for him. I was so sure that I could go into this arrangement and just have fun, but somewhere along the line my heart got involved too.

Once I’m satisfied that I no longer look homeless, I slowly make my way back into my hospital room where Savannah, Bella and Daisy have made themselves comfortable. Sav jumps out of her chair and hurries towards me, offering me an arm and I gratefully take it, allowing her to help me back to bed. “Have you spoke to Grayson at all?” I ask her quietly and hold my breath as I wait for her response.

She’s silent for a long time. Too long. I look at her, taking in the pity swimming in her eyes and my heart sinks. I stop walking. “What?”

“I don’t know what happened when he got to the accident site, but he took off and no one could find him,” she says, her chin trembling as she talks.

“But they found him eventually, right?” I ask, my chest constricting with panic.

Savannah takes a deep breath as she contemplates exactly how much to tell me. “I found him after I left here this morning. He was sitting at Reuben’s grave, wet from the rain and hugging an empty bottle of whiskey.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. Tears sting my eyes as I imagine Grayson slumped against his best friend’s headstone in the rain. The urge to go to him is strong, but for obvious reasons, I can’t and that thought has the tears spilling over the edge.

Savannah rubs a hand on my back lovingly as she guides me back towards my bed. “I took him home to sleep it off and Hunter will be there when he wakes up, so try not to worry too much.”

Easier said than done.

CHAPTER 45

GRAYSON

Something jostles the mattress beneath me, and I roll over, letting out a groan as a steady throb makes itself known in my head.

Fuck, I drank too much yesterday.

I pull my pillow over my face to shield my eyes from the daylight creeping in through a gap in the curtains. The darkness is soothing and just as I feel my body begin to relax, my mattress is jostled again.

“Wake the fuck up,” Hunter’s pissed off voice sounds from somewhere behind me and I freeze.

Why the fuck does he sound pissed off?

I pull the pillow away from my face and open one eye as I look over my shoulder.

“Good. Now you’re awake, wanna tell me what in the fuck you said to piss off my fiancée? And where the fuck you disappeared to all night?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I let out a long breath as the last twenty-fourhours comes flooding back.

Liv. The car accident.

Reuben’s grave. Savannah finding me. The disappointment on her face when she realised that I’m going to break her best friend’s heart.

Fuck.

My stomach rolls and I fight with all my willpower to hold back the vomit rising in my throat.

I fail.

I shoot up in bed, ignoring the pounding in my temples and make a run for the trash can in the corner of the room. The room spins as I sink to the floor and empty the contents of my stomach.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Gray?” Hunter asks as he leaves the room. I hear a tap running from somewhere in the house and he returns with a glass of water in one hand and a cloth in the other. He holds both items out to me and I take the water gratefully. My hand shakes as I bring the glass to my mouth and take careful sips of the cool liquid.

“You’re a fucking mess,” my older brother says, his voice laced with disappointment and a hint of pity.

No fucking shit.

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