Safe Hands

10. Rules And denial

Grayson buried his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, the hood pulled low over his face. The rain poured down, but he didn't seem to care. He had run miles, taken countless turns, and darted through alleys until he found himself at the train station. As he walked, he couldn't help but replay his encounter with Alex in his mind. He had left because he felt certain that Alex would send him back to Chicago—a nightmare he couldn't bear to face. Charlie would be waiting there, ready to finish what he had started. Peter was another option, but Peter had failed him too many times, even setting his life on edge.

All Grayson had were two dollar bills from a kind old lady and the clothes on his body. His empty stomach gnawed at him, but he figured being homeless was better than living in a house where he didn't fit in or returning to the monster that was Charlie.

Grayson breathed heavily, the long road ahead seeming endless.

He had tried running away more times than he could count, but Charlie always found him, thanks to his connections. Charlie was the right-hand man to a notorious mafia boss in Chicago. They dealt in all kinds of dirty business—drugs, trafficking, and worse. Grayson had experienced hell in the hands of those men when they kidnapped him. His stepfather had told them they could do whatever they wanted with him. They released him after ceaseless torture having realized that it couldn't touch the cruel man not even a bit to know that his stepson suffered, but just when he thought he could finally escape, Charlie's men seized him again, dragging him back to his personal hell.

Grayson quickened his pace, thoughts of getting found racing through his mind. Damien would be on edge again, while Alex would probably let it happen like he did before.

He stopped at the station, waiting for the next train. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted two policemen pointing at him before rushing towards him. Panic surged through him. As soon as the train arrived, he hopped on, hoping to make a quick getaway. But the train didn't move, giving the officers time to board. Grayson pushed past the passengers, running to the next exit and jumping out. The policemen chased him, shouting for him to stop. Grayson ran faster, his survival instincts kicking in. He darted through the streets, taking every shortcut he blindly trusted.

Just when he thought he had lost them, a car screeched to a halt in front of him, almost knocking him over. In seconds, his face was pressed against the car.

"You're under arrest for stealing," a black man said, cuffing him and forcing him into the car. Grayson remained silent, accustomed to being arrested. His stepfather always bailed him out, only for him to wish he was judged and sent to juvie instead.

The officers got in, and the car sped off.

******

The front door flew open as Damien dragged Grayson inside, the boy looking distressed with his hands still cuffed. The other boys looked startled by the scene. Damien pulled Grayson towards the stairs, and he obliged, resigned to his fate. They went to the study where Alex was waiting.

"You realize you could have gotten seriously hurt?" Alex said immediately. Grayson hung his head, not wanting to make things worse by opening his mouth.

"We're going to get things straight, Grayson. You've messed up big time, and it's getting on my nerves," Damien said, causing Grayson to shrink further.

"Sit!" Alex ordered, and Grayson sat on the edge of the chair.

"We need to talk about your stealing, lying, disrespect, and disobedience," Alex listed.

"And the consequences," Damien added, casually walking to the desk with a stack of files.

"You've done a lot in three days, do you know that?" Alex continued, but Grayson remained silent, causing Damien to shift.