Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
MATT
I stare blankly out the window of my private plane, the hum of the engine keeping me in my thoughts. I’m rattled. Shaken. Every nerve shot to shit.
The police called from Cole’s phone a little before one in the morning. Cole had told them to call his Uncle Matt. They said Nate had collapsed and they were working on scene to resuscitate him. They called again thirty minutes later, letting me know Nate didn’t make it.
His grandmother, my aunt, was already on her way to take Cole home so he wouldn’t be alone.
Then I talked to Cole. Or tried to.
He was hysterical, choking on every word, crying so hard I could barely understand him. I’ve never felt someone else’s pain cut through me like that.
I’ve watched people I love fall apart before.
This was different.
This felt like someone was gutting me from the inside out.
Those few minutes on the phone with him were the worst of my life.
And I know they’re only the beginning.
I woke Jordan just before I left at six. She looked wrecked and beautiful and exhausted in a way that fucked with my head. She sat up immediately, hair wild, tank top slipping off her shoulder, worry etched over her face.
I thanked her. Told her she could stay and sleep as long as she needed.
She was out like a light before I left.
Fuck. I don’t know what the hell I would’ve done if Jordan hadn’t come last night. I’m used to Jensen being a text away, a quick elevator ride to his door. I’m just… so damn grateful she was there.
I was a complete mess. That phone call broke me. I’ve never cried like that in my life. Even now, my throat tightens if I think about it too long.
I slept like shit, too.
My thoughts were all over the place. I couldn’t stop thinking about Nate and Cole. Couldn’t process, still can’t process what happened or him being gone. It doesn’t feel real. I keep waiting to wake up, to realize this is some fucked-up dream.
But I don’t.
I’m awake.
And this is very much my new reality. My cousin’s gone. He’s been one of my closest friends since childhood.
And the anger—fuck. It’s right there under my skin. The kind that makes my hands shake. The kind that makes me want to put my fist through something.
Why Nate? He was good. A good friend. A good father.
There’s no reason. No meaning. Just loss. Just Cole being left fatherless in the middle of the night. I can usually turn my anger into something useful. Work. The gym. A deal. Something I can control.
But this?
There’s nothing to do with it.
I reach for my drink. Yeah, whiskey at seven a.m. Not my usual MO, but right now? It’s necessary.
I have no idea what the next move is. Cole’s my godson. I love him.
I know what Nate would’ve wanted. I know why he made me his godfather in the first place.
His family’s shit.
Just like mine.
That reality should terrify me. I know it changes everything, but… I can’t wrap my head around it yet.
My pulse punches hard at my chest. But what if I’m like my dad? What if I fuck him up?
I shove the thought away before it can take root.
I’m not.
I’m Matthew Grayson. I always find a way.
My thoughts drift back to last night. To Jordan. How great she was—is. It chokes me up just thinking about it. But at the same time, it cinches something so tight in my chest I can barely breathe.
I keep replaying it: her being there, her patience, her fingers in my hair, the way she held me while I fell apart like a fucking baby.
It didn’t even matter that her tank top was practically falling off or that my face was buried in her lap, because she wasn’t there for sex. She was there for me, like she always is when I need her most.
She stayed. All night long, she stayed.
For me.
And I just held onto her like she was the only thing that mattered.
I drain the rest of my whiskey, blowing out a slow breath as I savor the burn. It’s five o’clock somewhere.
“Would you like another drink, Matt? We’ll be landing in twenty,” Darrell says.
He’s worked most of my flights since I bought my first plane.
He’s older, reliable, efficient. I learned early on I prefer him over the younger women the charter company kept assigning.
Darrell doesn’t flirt, and I don’t have to waste energy pretending to flirt back.
I can just …be. He gets me. We get along great.
“Nah, I better not,” I reply.
I have to stay sharp, for Cole. Be a steady anchor. I most definitely can’t show up to my aunt’s house drunk, though the thought of seeing her is enough to make me want to drink myself to a blackout.
She hates me. She has for a long time.
And Nate despised her.
I almost can’t believe Cole even went with her. He hardly knows Cece. But he couldn’t be alone, and I couldn’t be there.
I lean my head back against my seat. Shit. I need to text Jensen and tell him what happened, let him know I’ll be here for the rest of the week.
I pull up my messages.
Hey man, I’ll be in Chicago in a few minutes. Got some shit to tell you. You free tonight? I could pick dinner up and bring it over.
My thumb hovers over an unread text from my mom. I’m not ready to deal with her. I stare at it for a beat before opening it.
Mom
Did you hear about Nate? I know you two were close.
I scoff under my breath. Great. She’s gonna play the concerned card. Like she ever gave a shit about Nate. She feels about him the way my aunt feels about me. But she’ll pretend to care. Anything that makes her look good.
I get along with my mom just fine. Mostly because I avoid her at all costs. I attend Mass with her a few times a year, and only because my father doesn’t.
She loves when I come. Loves parading me around all her fake fucking friends.
Her and my aunt? Two peas in a pod. Selfish. Greedy. And married to assholes for status.
At least my aunt wasn’t always that way.
Nate didn’t grow up wealthy like I did. His dad was a cop, and they were one of the most normal families I knew. They seemed happy. Then my uncle died when Nate was fifteen. Heart attack.
My mom swooped in, set my aunt up with one of my dad’s scumbag buddies who’d just moved to Chicago.
She changed her entire identity within weeks—went from a caring mother to one who cared more about fitting in at her country club.
Ladies’ lunches. Dinner parties. Nate barely saw her after that, and he never got over it. I can’t say I blame him.
My phone dings.
Jensen
Sure thing, brother. Wide open. Everything okay?
I don’t want to get into it now, especially since I don’t know what the next week looks like yet with the funeral, Cole, and everything else.
I’ll text you when I know what time. See you tonight.
The plane starts its descent, and I exhale, sinking deeper into my seat. My face feels stuck in a permanent scowl, and I’m so fucking tired. Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I will myself to relax. Christ. Cole. Cece. My mom. Jordan. It’s too much all at once.
I try not to think about that last one, but she’s the only one not causing me grief or panic right now. So I let myself think about her. About Jordan. Babe.
I close my eyes and let my mind drift back to her hands in my hair, pushing all the hard shit aside.
My head on her chest. The faint smell of her Prada perfume she’s worn for over a decade.
A corner of my mouth lifts when I picture that tank top, the strap slipping down her shoulder, my mind wandering lower.
And my stomach does a fucking flip.
The driving service drops me in front of my condo, a downtown Chicago high-rise. I take the elevator down to the parking garage where my Porsche awaits in the designated parking spot I paid a ridiculous amount of money for. Front-row and extra-wide spaces don’t come for free.
I toss my backpack onto the passenger seat and text Cole.
On my way, buddy. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
I type Cece’s address into Google Maps and start the car as Cole’s text comes through.
Cole
She says I can’t go with you.
What? The hell he can’t.
I call him. He picks up on the first ring.
“Uncle Matt—” His voice cracks, and Jesus Christ, it crushes me.
“Hey, bud.” I swallow hard, forcing a steady tone. He can’t hear me fall apart. “What’s going on? Why won’t your grandma let you come with me?”
“She—says it’s—something—about legal stuff.”
I close my eyes and breathe deep. Keep it together, Matt.
Fuck. The court systems. Legalities. All the shit I didn’t think about. It never even crossed my mind. I’m basically a second dad to him, but shit, if Nate didn’t have a will…
Yeah. I need my lawyer. Immediately.
“It’s alright, bud. We’ll figure it out.”
Lie. I have no fucking clue what my rights are here. And Cece being the one in control? My stomach tightens into a million knots.
“Is your grandma there? Can I talk to her?”
“Yeah. I’ll get her.”
Three seconds later she’s on the phone. Of course she was standing there listening the whole time.
“Matthew.” Her voice is tight, strained. “Cole says you’re on your way here, and this really isn’t the best time. He’s a wreck. He needs a calm environment and stability, not… disruption.”
“Don’t patronize me, Cece.” My jaw clenches. “Cole doesn’t want to stay with you. What he needs is to be with someone he knows. He just lost his favorite person in the world, and his second favorite is me.”
My voice shakes. My eyes burn. But I’m too pissed to cry.
“I’m not trying to fight you,” she says, her tone edged sharp with exhaustion.
“But the last thing he needs right now is to be handed off to a bachelor godfather who doesn’t know the first thing about raising a child.
He’s upset. Traumatized… I’ve talked to my lawyer.
I’m filing for guardianship of Cole. I don’t think you coming here right now is in his best interest. It will only confuse him. ”
Confuse him? I scoff, low and under my breath. Right. Make me look like the bad guy. Make herself the hero.
What a manipulative bitch. Or maybe she’s convinced herself she knows best. Either way, she’s standing between me and Cole.
I need a lawyer. Not in an hour. Not tomorrow. Now.
I don’t know much about this stuff, but I know that anything I say and do from here on out can be used for or against me. I take a breath and say, “Can I call you back in a few minutes to discuss a time to see Cole that would work for you? Even if it’s just a few minutes?”
“Um…” she startles. “Okay. Sure.”
I hang up and dial Keith, the best damn family law attorney in New York. He’s a friend of Jensen’s dad, and I’ve referred a lot of people to him. He’ll know exactly what to do.
I hang up with Keith twenty minutes later, still sitting in the parking garage, my jaw tight enough to crack teeth.
He laid it all out for me. No showing up and demanding Cole. No giving Cece any ammunition. No losing my shit even though that’s exactly what I want to do.
Text everything. Screenshot anything sketchy. Stay calm. Get time with Cole if she’ll allow it.
Basically, play the long game and don’t fuck up. Don’t act like a man who just lost his cousin, grieving, terrified for a twelve-year-old boy he loves.
Act like the guy a judge would trust. Be the guy Cole needs.
I can do that.
It sucks, but I’m patient as hell. I’m a Grayson. I play the long game every damn day in the business world.
And for Cole? I’ll do whatever the hell I have to in order for him to be happy.
I text Cece instead of calling her back.
I know today is an emotional day. I’d really like to see Cole, even if it’s just for five minutes. Give him a hug. Tell him I love him. If that’s alright, I can be there in thirty minutes.
I watch the message turn to read, panic washing over me as I wait.
And wait.
My knee bounces.
Jordan texts right then. Perfect timing. I need the distraction.
Jordan
Hey... just thinking about you. How’s it going? How’s Cole?
I tip my head back against the seat, struggling to accept everything that’s happened over the last twelve hours.
The burn in my eyes blurs my vision, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, inhaling sharp and fast. I want nothing more than to talk to her.
To talk to Jensen. But it feels like too much right now.
Everything’s so fucked. So... up in the air.
And saying it all out loud? It makes it too permanent.
Keith said I have a real shot at getting custody if I contest Cece’s filing. That he’ll get me the best damn attorney Chicago has to offer by the end of the day, but—
What if I lose?
What if I lose him?
Jesus. Is this what parenting feels like? He’s not even mine and I can’t fathom losing him to Cece. Knowing what she thinks of me, she’d probably never let me see him again.
I can’t even comprehend the shit real parents feel.
I text Jordan back.
I haven’t seen him yet. Soon, I hope. I’ll tell you all about it later.
Jordan
Okay. Well, I’m thinking of you both. If you need anything, I’m here.
Thanks, babe.
Jordan
My heart squeezes in my chest.
Why?
I don’t fucking know. It’s just a text. Stupid words saying she’s there if I need her. And an emoji. That’s it.
“Christ,” I mutter.
I’m opening my car door, about to give up and head upstairs, when Cece’s text comes through.
Cece
Five minutes.
I’m serious, Matthew. It’s just too much right now. But he clearly wants to see you.
A shuddered breath leaves me, so fast and shaky it feels like I just cut the right wire on a ticking bomb.
Great. See you soon.
Thank you.