Chapter Thirty-Three #3
“What?” Reece looked like he’d been slapped. “No, no, don’t, I’m going to help him—”
“Blindfold him. Immediately. And don’t let him touch anyone, not a fucking soul.” Charles was addressing some of his soldiers. “You two: Take Cedrick
back to the hospital, far away from Mr. Davies. And you three, prepare the transport car. Mr. Davies must be brought to a
lab at once.”
“Wait.” Reece was shaking his head rapidly. “We can’t go. What about Cedrick—”
“Not now,” Charles said impatiently. He gestured at Reece. “You appear to have reverted to a pacifist! That has always been
thought impossible. The implications—the potential for us to control your abilities—I can’t risk any of that by letting you
touch Cedrick. Take him away.”
“But—”
“Mr. Stone, sir!” A new soldier was sprinting around the corner over the stadium. “The police are on the next block.”
Charles scoffed. “I don’t care about the police—”
“They’re looking for you,” said the new soldier. “One of them said something about a warrant for fraud.”
Charles stilled. Then he burst into movement. “Clear out,” he barked, already striding away. “You two with me. The rest of you, keep the empath away from Cedrick and Evan at all costs.”
His Maybach was there on the street, but Charles and his two guards were heading for the parking garage—where he might have
his helicopter waiting on the top floor. Grayson yanked at his captors again. This was why Alex wanted him stalled—Grayson
wasn’t gonna fail his brother yet again—
From in front of Charles, behind the loading gate, there came a roar. Then twenty jersey-clad men, Grayson’s size and bigger,
came pouring out of the loading gate like they were rushing the field for kickoff.
“For Alex!”
One of the defensive linemen launched himself at Charles just as the rest of the team leaped forward with the same battle
cry.
Through the din, Grayson caught Reece’s noise of distress as the sidewalk erupted into chaos. He kicked out at one of his
captors, putting all the force his drugged muscles could muster behind it. Bone snapped, and the man went down. An elbow to
the stomach took care of the second guard, and Grayson was free and into the fray.
Up ahead, brakes squealed as the van holding Cedrick Stone gunned it, scraping a Do Not Enter sign as it swung around the
bend of the street and sped off. Grayson ducked a punch, staggering forward as he looked for the small, slim figure in a sea
of football players and Stone Solutions responders.
He dodged another kick, then finally caught sight of an oversized hoodie and dark hair stumbling into the empty space where
Cedrick Stone’s van had been. “Reece.”
One of the Stone Solutions responders was heading straight for Reece, who seemed as lost and unaware of his surroundings as a lemming heading straight for a cliff’s edge.
Grayson put on a burst of speed, shouldering the man hard enough to send him careening off into a cop, and reached Reece just as he crumpled to hands and knees on the pavement.
“Where did Cedrick Stone go?” The hitched whisper cut through the crowd noise as surely as if Reece had shouted it. “Why are
they fighting—”
Reece was lifting his head, looking at a linebacker and one of Charles Stone’s men locked in combat, and if there was any
chance his pacifism was back, this scene was going to overwhelm him quick. Grayson stumbled forward, grabbing Reece off the
ground and half tugging, half carrying him toward the empty Maybach up ahead.
Down the street, the first police cruiser had gone right through the barrier, and adding whirling lights and sirens to the
chaos was not helping. Grayson managed to duck around the Maybach’s trunk just as his drugged knees gave out and sent him
tumbling to the pavement behind the car.
Grayson caught Reece just before the impact, twisting to keep him from hitting the ground. Despite the fight around them,
Reece was soft and unresisting against him as Grayson leaned against the Maybach’s tire for support. Not exactly a fortress,
but the closest to shelter they were gonna get.
“Reece,” he said again, getting a better hold on him and trying to prop him up. “Can you look at me?”
Reece didn’t seem to hear him. His head was down, shaking back and forth in a helpless kind of no. “Pain—vengeance—they need help too—”
Grayson ducked his head so he could see Reece’s face. Despite the bright gray of the day, Reece’s pupils were fully dilated,
his empathy in control and his eyes those twin night skies again. Grayson shifted one hand to Reece’s wrist, feeling for his
pulse. It was hammering under Grayson’s fingers unnaturally fast, his blood pressure probably sky-high to match.
“Maybe I can help them all.” Words were tumbling from Reece’s lips, though whether he knew what he was saying, Grayson wasn’t sure. His breaths were also too quick, hard but shallow puffs. “Why won’t they let me try to help Cedrick Stone—”
He listed to the side. Grayson grabbed for him, keeping him up before he could hit the pavement. As far as Grayson knew, no
empath had ever come back from corruption. Would Reece’s body be able to handle the change?
Wasn’t looking real good.
Around them, more cruisers had pulled into the street, cops joining the mess. Grayson tried to shield Reece with his body,
pulling him in closer. He reached for one of his hands, aligning their bare palms and intertwining their fingers. “Reece.
Look at me.”
Reece didn’t react, didn’t seem to hear Grayson or know he was there. His pupils were still blown, his empathy fully in control.
Grayson squeezed his hand harder, trying to get his attention. “Care Bear, please.”
Nothing. Grayson might as well have been a ghost—
But then, he was a ghost to Reece’s empathy, wasn’t he? It didn’t matter that they were touching; if Reece was overwhelmed
and overtaken by his empathy, he would have no idea that Grayson was even there, because there were no emotions in the Dead
Man for that empathy to pick up.
I don’t want to feel anything anymore anyway, he’d told Alex in that bunker, and Alex had made it come true, had helped build a wall so strong Grayson had become the
Dead Man, completely immune to empathy, as dead inside as a corpse.
I’ll tell you exactly what I told Reece: it’s permanent for all intents and purposes. I can’t break it; no empath can. The
only one who could tear it down is you—but you never, ever will.
Don’t you see? Because to break it, you’d have to want to—and you’re no longer capable of feeling that emotion.
Grayson looked into Reece’s lost eyes. There was no one else here they could trust. If Grayson couldn’t reach him, what would happen to Reece? Would he stay lost, alone and spiraling, until he was permanently damaged or worse?
Maybe he’d fall back to the corruption.
Or maybe he just wouldn’t make it at all.
And we’re going to have to say goodbye, Reece had said on the ferry, just like we always do.
Grayson’s hand tightened on Reece’s. This was it, then—there was nothing he could do—
But there is, said a voice in his head, or maybe his heart, one that he barely remembered. Because walls have two sides. And on the other side of the wall, you do want something.
Grayson leaned down. “You have to come back, Reece,” he whispered hoarsely. “Because I want us to be done saying goodbye.”
And as he pressed his lips to Reece’s, something in his chest gave way like the first crack in a dam.
Reece’s eyes went wide. “Evan?” he said against Grayson’s lips, his hand tightening where it still held Grayson’s. “Oh my
God. Evan.”
Grayson’s heart was starting to pound, a buzzing in his ears growing louder, drowning out the shouts and the sirens. He heard
Reece say something more, but the words were lost as Grayson’s own heartbeat rose deafeningly loud in his ears. His was the
breathing that was too fast now, and his vision was going dark around the edges, like he was in rising water, and his chest
was painfully tight—
But suddenly Reece wasn’t holding his hands. He was cupping Grayson’s face. “I got you.” His eyes were so close, big glittery
pupils ringed with deep brown. “Okay? I’m here. I got you.”
Grayson tried to speak. “Something hurts—”
“That’s grief,” Reece whispered. “Maybe for the parents you never got to mourn. I’m so sorry. I know it hurts.”
Grayson swallowed. It was too much; he couldn’t breathe. “What else?” he managed to say.
“Fury. Guilt. Shame. It’s all hitting you, and hearts aren’t meant to feel two years of buried emotions at once.” Reece brought
their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around Grayson’s neck. “But it’s going to be okay, I promise. Because under all
that are the good feelings. They survived too. And no matter the feeling, I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Grayson closed his eyes and let Reece pull him into a hug. Around them were shouts, people running, yelling. But they stayed
like that, hidden behind the Maybach, arms tight around each other in the empty parking space, as the rain started again.