On the coffee table.
Buzzing.
Then ringing.
Again.
My heart races. He never forgets his phone.
The screen shows twenty missed calls.
Text previews scroll across the screen: “911! BRO ANSWER!”
Another call flashes: BOBBY.
I hesitate.
It rings again.
I swipe it, pulse pounding. It’s an emergency, after all.
“Um... hello?”
A pause. Then a deep, scratchy voice on the other end:
“Where’s Grayson?”
My voice squeaks. “I don’t know. I’m… uh, I’m Charlotte. His roommate. Who’s this?”
Another pause.
“I’m his big brother, Bobby. Haven’t seen him for a couple of years. Say... you think you could give me a lift?”
My reflex is to say no.
But...
Oh my gosh!
I know how to get Grayson to talk to me again! I could do this favor. Surprise him when he gets home.Look, it’s your brother!
So I reply, “Yeah! I can pick you up. Where are you?”
“Boy, that’d be great, sweety. Cutter Prison. Just released. But don’t worry. I don’t bite.”
Chapter 13
Grayson
I pull up beside Charlotte’s red hatchback and kill the engine. My fingers drum the steering wheel.
I don’t want to go in.
Not because of Brax. Not because of Atticus.
Because ofher.
That clingy little mess with the big, stupid eyes and ratty hair. Acting like I’m some knight in shining armor instead of the bastard I really am.
