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All I know for sure is that I want to make Grayson fucking Black regret ever laying eyes on me. So for now, the best I can do is to keep playing the long game and wait for him to give me the ammunition I need. And once I have it, I can strike, chipping away at it bit by bit.
The ride from Grayson’s cabin and back to our town seems to pass so much quicker than when we traveled there. During the ride, we passed a few families out for walks, others had already fired up their BBQ. One thing they all had in common was their clothes. Everyone was wearing variants of red, white, and blue clothes.
I had the hour on the road to come to terms with the fact that this is the first Fourth of July I’ll celebrate without my family. This used to be one of Leslie’s favorite holidays, and she always went all out, embracing the day fully.
When we come to a stop, and Grayson kills the roaring engine of his bike, it takes me a moment to realize we’re in front of my house.
“Why have we stopped here?” I ask, confused.
I don’t wait for his answer before I jump off the bike and remove the helmet from my head. Predictably, Grayson doesn’t answer me with words. All I get is a grunt as he walks toward the front door.
Despite my better judgment, I can’t stop the excitement from spreading in my stomach. Maybe he decided to let me go after all. No! Mentally, I shut that thought down as quickly as it appeared. I can’t think like that when he told me that’s not happening. There must be another reason we’re here.
“Why are we here?” I ask dispassionately.
“Thought you might want some of your stuff, Princess.”
Grayson studies me for a beat before pulling out his keys. My fists ball as he easily unlocks the door before disarming the alarm. The fucker does it without ever looking back, like it’s perfectly normal and okay for him to let himself—and me—into my motherfucking house.
Despite the shit I’ve been on the receiving end of, this one takes the cake. Who the hell does he think he is? Instead of hurling insults at him like I really want to, I try to push my way around him.
“Wait here,” he says so softly I almost miss the words. “I need to check if the house is safe.”
His words cause a laugh to tumble from my mouth. “Safe?” I snigger scornfully. “Why the hell wouldn’t it be safe, Grayson? You allowed my mom and sister to be killed before driving my dad to run and leave me here. So who exactly are you afraid might hide under my bed? Don’t tell me you believe in the Boogeyman.”
After hip-checking him, I quickly dash upstairs. All while leaving him gaping like the fucking jerk he is. The first place I go is Leslie’s bedroom. Everything looks the same, yet it doesn’t. I can’t quite explain it. But her usually bright and colorful room looks dull, like the magic has faded.
Sitting down on her bed, I gently rearrange some of the unicorns, making sure they’re placed correctly. Then I open the window, letting some sunlight and fresh air in here. Even though our property is big, and our neighbors aren’t right next to us, the telltale smell of BBQ wafts through the window.
“Can you smell that, Leslie?” I ask. My voice breaks as a lump of emotions clog my throat. “The Greggs are getting ready for their sausage fest.”
Before I can stop myself, I bark out a laugh, the memory of my sister asking our parents what a sausage fest is playing all too vividly in my mind’s eye. Mom almost choked on her red wine, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard dad laugh that heartily since. I can’t remember which one of them told Leslie that it’s what you call it when people only eat hot dogs on the Fourth of July.
“How the hell do you know they’re gearing up for a sausage fest?”
I squeak and spin around as Grayson startles me. The surprise only lasts for a few seconds before it’s replaced by anger.
“Get out of here,” I hiss, pointing an accusatory finger toward where he’s leaning against the wall. “How fucking dare you come in here after you failed to save her life?”
I’m so livid that if I had a gun, I have no doubt I’d shoot him again.
Grayson’s eyes darken as he crosses his arms over his chest. His nostrils flare like an angry bull. He clenches his jaw so tight I’m surprised I don’t hear a tooth cracking.
His dark gaze causes a shiver to run down my spine, but I ignore it and stand my ground. Like a child, I parrot his pose while raising a brow at him.
“You have no right to be in here,” I say coldly.
“Princess—”
Shaking my head, I cut him off. “Not. In. Here,” I grind out.
I sigh as a thought strikes me. Leslie was always nice to Grayson and Gunner, so maybe she wouldn’t mind him being in here. Before I can overanalyze what I think my dead sister would have wanted, I shut down that line of thinking. If she wants him in her bedroom, she’ll have to send me a sign. Make it rain frogs or make a boulder land in the doorway so we can’t leave.
When neither of those things happen, I turn my back on Grayson. Content with ignoring him while I look for what I need. As soon as I find it, I head to my room.
I barely manage to open the door to the walk-in closet before the fucker places a hand on my shoulder and spins me around.
“Why do you think I didn’t try to save her?” he rasps.
