Page 27 of Unspoken Hearts
My frown deepens. “And?”
“And it’s ridiculous.” Grayson shakes his head. “He gets everything...”
Sitting up, I peer over my shoulder at his scowl. “Why don’t you just talk with him about it?”
“He’s not lenient.”
I scoff loudly. “Reid isn’t lenient?”
Sharp, cobalt eyes find mine. I blink away, not liking the rush of warmth spreading up my neck at his silent accusation.
Of course I have observed Reid. Is that a crime?
“I’m sure if you talk it out, then you’ll come to an agreement.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
I shrug again. “What if he does?”
Grayson stares at me for a long beat before shaking his head. “Reid’s always been the favourite."
“Do you really believe that?”
“It’s true,” Grayson argues. “He got his place first, and he’s getting the ranch.”
My mouth closes tightly as I squeeze his hand with my own. I don’t fully understand their deep seeded rivalry, but I do know Grayson is my friend, and if he’s not okay, then it’s my duty to cheer him up.
I exhale slowly, glancing around my decrepit house, before picking up the stack of cards again. “I’m guessing we don’t want to play cards again?”
“Not if you want to be beaten brutally another dozen times?”
“Forget it,” I mutter sourly.
Grayson sniffs a laugh as I scour the room, looking for anything to keep us entertained.
“Ah-huh!” I shout, moving an old box of Aunt Lucy’s newspapers to the floor and retrieving a Monopoly box. “Bet you can’t beat me at this.”
His smirk grows as I toss the game on the carpet, away from the bucket.
Grayson’s eyes twinkle as he moves to the floor, opening up the box. “Get ready to hand over all your money, M.”
I sniff a laugh as he starts dealing out the cash and my smile falters. Honestly, if this money was real, then I would be able to move out of his crap heap, but sadly, fictional money won’t help me out in the real world.
A blaring, crashing noise jolts me awake. Eyes flaring, I sit up quickly, looking around my bedroom. My heart has leapt up into my throat, pounding away as I grip the sheets tighter against my chest, too scared to go out there and check out the noise. I can’t remember what time we decided to call it quits and sleep, but it must have been at least a few hours after we started playing Monopoly.
Air catching in my throat, I force down a swallow. Ice floods my veins as I listen for more noise. All I can hear is my own blood pumping through my ears when the bedroom door slams open, frightening me out of my skin.
“Gray!” I snap, getting to my feet.
“Sorry,” he rushes out, coming into my room in his trackpants.
“What was that?” my voice is barely a whisper.
Did I forget to lock the front door?
No, it was too loud to be the door.
Maybe something outside?
