Page 47 of Seeing Grayscale

Home.

I’m never going to get it back. It doesn’t matter how long I linger in this town or how much suffering I go through. It’s all…gone.

Turning my back to the house, I start walking away. Torturing myself like this never does me any good. It hurts just as badly as it did the last time.

I’m shivering so much that it doesn’t register right away that my phone is going off. Thankfully, I had it in my pocket when Ray jacked my shit. It’s been my most well-guarded secret since I came back.

I pull it out, using my clothes as an umbrella so the rain doesn’t destroy it, and see Hunter’s name.

Henevercalls.

I’m too upset to talk to him, too vulnerable.

Can’t I get one fucking day where I’m strong enough to deal? It seems like no matter what, I’m always one step closer to shattering completely. What am I going to do when he offers me help again? What am I going to do when I hear his voice?

Everything he’s promised is too good to be true, but I can’t help wondering…what if it wasn’t? What if it could simplybetrue? Would I accept it? Would I leave?

The call stops, and I sigh, trying to move faster.

A whole three seconds pass before it starts up again. His name is screaming louder than the ringtone. It’s a pretty lure with a sharp hook. Once I take the bait, I’m caught.

“Hello?” I croak.

“Gray,” he breathes, relieved. “Where are you?”

“Trying to find somewhere dry,” I admit, because it’s true.

“You’re not at the gas station, right?” There’s an urgency to his words.

Frowning, I hold my clothes over my head when the rain intensifies. “I’m not there, why?” I shout into the receiver because it’s getting loud. Thunder booms right after, and I don’t hear what he said. “What?”

“There was a shooting!"

“No shit?”

“Where are you, Gray?”

“The corner of Chrysaline and 18th!”

The call drops.

Oh, no, it didn’t.

My cellphone is dead.

TWENTY-THREE

Intimesofcrisis,I’ve been taught to remain calm.

Maybe to anyone else, this wouldn’t even qualify as such. But when I decided to return to Gray’s town unannounced, hoping like hell that he’d agree to leave with me, the last thing I expected to find was yellow tape blocking my access to the gas station.

Police littered the parking lot, so I couldn’t even get a good look at the undeniable body they were sliding into the ambulance.

The only reason I know what happened is because a bystander was on the phone—crying—that there was a shooting.

Gray stays at that gas station. He told me two weeks ago when he finally figured out how to text me back.

Iknowdramatics won’t help the situation, but my hands still shake as I grip my steering wheel tightly.

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