Chapter Three #3
“I’ll make sure they’re protected.” Grayson followed him across the room. “Everyone who works at that clinic will have eyes on them. These people won't get close enough to cause problems.”
Ryan wanted to ask again how Grayson could possibly guarantee that. What kind of resources he had access to. What kind of life he’d lived before moving here six months ago. But the closed-off look on Grayson’s face told him those questions wouldn’t get answers.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Ryan pulled it out, his stomach dropping at the thought of another threat. But it was just a notification from his email. Spam about a sale at some store he’d never shopped at. He let out a breath and tossed the phone onto the couch.
“I don't know if I can do this,” he admitted quietly. “Go to work tomorrow and pretend everything is fine. I’m not good at lying. People always know when something's wrong with me. My face gives everything away.”
“Then don't lie.” Grayson leaned against the arm of the couch, arms crossed. “Tell them you had a rough night. That you’re stressed about the rescue dogs. Both of those things are true.”
“Just leave out the part about the death threats.”
“Just leave out that part.”
Ryan walked to the window and peeked through the curtains again.
The parking lot looked the same as before.
Empty except for the usual cars. No suspicious figures lurking in the shadows.
No one watching his apartment. But that didn’t mean they weren't out there. Didn’t mean they weren't planning something.
“You should stay somewhere else tonight,” Grayson said from behind him. “Pack a bag. You can crash at my place.”
Ryan turned around. “Your place?”
“It’s secure. And I’ll be there.” Grayson pushed off from the couch. “You shouldn't be alone right now.”
The offer hung in the air between them. Ryan’s mind raced through the implications.
Staying at Grayson’s apartment. Sleeping under the same roof.
After everything that had happened today, the kiss at the café felt like it had occurred in a different lifetime.
Like they'd been different people then, people who didn’t have to worry about threats and violence.
“I don't want to impose,” Ryan said, even though the thought of staying here alone made his stomach clench with fear.
“You’re not imposing. I’m offering.” Grayson moved toward him, stopping a few feet away. “Pack what you need for tomorrow. Work clothes, whatever else. We'll stop by in the morning so you can get ready.”
Ryan looked around his apartment. At the plants he kept forgetting to water and the stack of veterinary journals on the coffee table and the framed photo of him at graduation from vet tech school.
Everything familiar and safe and normal.
The idea of leaving it, even for one night, felt like admitting defeat.
Like letting whoever sent that text win.
But the idea of staying here alone, jumping at every sound, waiting for another threat, or worse, felt impossible.
“Okay,” Ryan heard himself say. “Let me grab some things.”
He walked to his bedroom on legs that felt disconnected from his body.
The room was small and cluttered, clothes draped over the chair in the corner and books stacked on the nightstand.
He pulled a duffel bag from the closet and started throwing things into it.
Clean scrubs for tomorrow. Underwear and socks.
His toothbrush and deodorant from the bathroom.
The motions were automatic, his hands moving while his brain struggled to process everything.
This morning he’d woken up excited about coffee with Grayson. Now he was packing a bag to hide at his apartment because violent criminals wanted their fighting dogs back. The whiplash of it made him feel dizzy.
“You almost ready?” Grayson’s voice came from the doorway.
Ryan zipped the duffel and turned around. “Yeah. This is so surreal. I feel like I’m in a movie or something. A really bad movie where the twink vet tech gets threatened by the mob.”
“This isn't the mob.” Grayson took the bag from him. “And you’re going to be fine.”
“You keep saying that.” Ryan followed him back to the living room. “How do you know? How can you possibly be sure?”
Grayson set the bag down and turned to face him. The lamplight cast shadows across his features, making him look older somehow. Harder. “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
The certainty in his voice sent something warm through Ryan’s system, cutting through the fear.
He wanted to believe it. Wanted to trust that Grayson could actually protect him from whatever was coming.
But the rational part of his brain kept insisting that one person, no matter how capable, couldn’t stand against an entire criminal organization.