IGNITE

forty-eight.

‹ 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ›

My childhood bedroom was dead silent as I sat with my head in my hands, desperately trying to stop myself from beating the grey-haired jackass in my mothers' foyer to a pulp.

I barely gave my mothers' new husband a second glance before I was shouldering past him, leaving my new 'family' and Piper in my dust. I shouldn't have left Piper, should have dragged her along with me but, in the heat of the moment, the thought of her seeing me like that—furious and dangerous—was enough for me to push her away.

My eyes darted around my bedroom, catching the pictures of a young me, pictures of my father and I from before everything had gone to shit. A wave of anger washed over me, and I pulled on the roots of my hair, trying to focus on the pain instead of the rage that threatened to consume me.

In the distance, the sound of muffled voices filtered through the walls, and my eyes squeezed shut. The door creaked open, and Piper's head peeked around the door, her red hair a veil of waves around her face. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, and she slipped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. The soft padding of her sock covered feet grew closer until they stopped right in front of me. "Greyson," she whispered, her hand reaching out to grip my chin. "Look at me."

"I'm fine, Firelight," the words were a lie, and we both knew it.

"Don't do that," she shook her head, her green eyes blazing. "Don't pretend that you're fine when you're not. Let me help you."

My throat constricted as the room grew impossibly small, the air turning to sludge, thick and choking, my lungs gasping for oxygen. Piper's face swam in my vision, her lips moving but her words were lost, her voice fading, the ringing in my ears growing louder. I could vaguely feel her hands wrapping around my wrist as she placed my palm just above her chest.

"Breathe with me, Greyson." The words were a plea, a gentle command, and I forced my eyes to lock with hers, my palm resting against the fabric of her sweater. My lungs expanded, the feeling of her heart thumping in her chest grounding me, focusing me, reminding me that I wasn't alone, that I had her. "There you are," her lips tilted upwards in a small smile, and her thumb brushed against my cheek. "You're okay."

"Piper," I breathed her name like a prayer, and her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me into a hug. I buried my face in her neck, and she sighed, her fingers tangling in my hair. "His pictures are still on the fucking wall. She didn't even have the decency to take them down."

The man she abandoned, despite his pleas, despite his proclamations of love, she chose her money over him. My mother, a woman who had sworn to stand by my father's side through sickness and health, had chosen her fortune. And now, she was living a fairytale, while the rest of us were left picking up the broken pieces.

"He was a good man," I whispered. "He would have given her the world—wanted to give her the world. But, instead she chose her fucking bank account. And, now, she's playing house with that jackass. Like her actions have no consequences. Like she's the victim in this story."

"I'm sorry," Piper pulled back, and the look of understanding, of acceptance, of love, on her face was enough to shatter me. "I'm so sorry, Grey."

"I can't be here, Piper."

She nodded, and her lips pressed against my cheek, soft and warm, the smell of her filling my lungs. "Then we go home," she whispered. "We leave, and you never have to see her again if you don't want to. We'll build a life together, and you can start fresh." I could only nod, and she slipped her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers, her skin like silk. "I'll let her know that we're leaving."