Safe Hands

17. CHURCH

Grayson crawled out of bed sluggishly, unable to ignore his throbbing head. His back hurt, and his thighs did too. He groggily went about his morning routine, moving slowly and wincing with each movement. He blocked out all memories of the previous day. After throwing on a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, he stepped out of his room. From the window at the end of the hall, he could see the cloudy morning hiding the sun. He walked down the stairs slowly and cautiously. He hadn't made it to the bottom when he spotted Damien.

The man was focused on his phone as he sipped his tea. Grayson turned around, deciding against showing up in front of his uncle. He hadn't made it far when Damien called out his name, causing him to freeze.

"Get back here, Grayson," Damien ordered. Grayson's shoulders slumped as he turned around. Making his way down the stairs, he sighed silently and rubbed his eyes before appearing before the man.

"Morning, Mr. Smith," he greeted in a gruff voice.

"Were you trying to avoid me?" Damien looked up from his phone, meeting Grayson's eyes.

"No," Grayson started, "I was only going to get my stockings," he lied, clear as crystal.

Damien stared at his bare feet for confirmation. "Fine, hurry up. I need to have a word with you."

Grayson's shoulders slumped again, but he decided to leave the man's sight. He returned to his room, sighing heavily as he fetched his stockings and slipped them on. He pulled open the drawer, spotting the packet of cigarettes and the lighter. He knew better than to let Damien find them. He descended the stairs to fetch his breakfast. Rosa was dressed in a fancy gown and had styled her hair. Grayson didn't pay much attention as he tried to eat while ignoring Damien's presence. The man was dangerous, and Grayson was very uncomfortable around him, still annoyed at the previous day's incident. He glanced up the stairs, hoping to see Alex coming down. He felt strange about Alex's absence, almost longing for his return. He frowned at his plate, feeling stupid. He tried to convince himself that he needed to leave before they ruined his life, like Charlie did for years.

Damien rose as he picked up a call. Grayson couldn't feel more relieved. He grabbed his bowl and ate quickly before Damien returned. After cleaning his bowl, he headed straight for his room, planning to spend the day doing graffiti and hiding out. Damien was too angry for him to roam around the house. He felt like something bad might happen again and he didn't want to talk to Damien behind closed doors. He pulled the notebook Alex had dropped from the desk and lay on his back. He let out a gentle sigh as the pain dulled down.

The door creaked open, and Damien stood in the doorway. "I said we need to talk," he repeated, his tone giving away his annoyance. Grayson quickly sat up, suffocating the urge to roll his eyes.

"You were on the phone," he said in a small voice.

"Get to the study. I'll be there shortly," Damien ordered. Grayson sat up without a word, not wanting to initiate a war he couldn't end. He walked past Damien and headed straight for the study. There were stacks of files on the table and a notebook. Grayson gently sat on the chair, ignoring the pain that returned. He placed his feet on the table and stared at the ceiling. The study was a hellish place to be. He imagined himself running the streets while a group of people screamed, "Thief! Thief!" He always got away.

One day, he had run into an old lady, knocking both of them down and causing the crowd to catch up to him. The young men dragged and swore at him, hitting and manhandling him. Fortunately, Peter was there to save him. He'd called them out and pleaded on his behalf. Grayson had snapped at Peter and ran off just after he was released.

The sound of footsteps in the hall caused Grayson to shift, sitting uncomfortably but appropriately.

Damien walked in and sat on the opposite chair. Grayson stared at the shelf opposite him.

"Yesterday was a tough day for both of us, and to avoid such behaviors and repetitions, I'll be firmer than usual," Damien started with a detached tone. Grayson shifted uncomfortably.

"You're already grounded. You'll read those files and give me proper documentation on the morals you get out of the readings. You'll also write a list of your negative behaviors, the ones you displayed yesterday, and their consequences. You won't stop until all those blank pages are filled, and you've got only today." He ended. Grayson wanted to groan out loud and tell the man how he felt about the stupid punishment.

He stared exhaustedly at the stack of files, already feeling drowsy. "Can I do it in the evening or something?" he asked, trying to hide the rudeness in his tone.

Damien frowned slightly. "What—"

Rosa walked in. "Grayson, we'll be late for church," she said.

Grayson stared at her in confusion.

"You can leave, Rosa. Grayson will be spending the day doing his punishment and, of course, tidying his room properly because some nasty bags are still laying around despite the fact I asked him to clean up."

Grayson tensed. "No, I'm going to church first. God first," he stated, looking for an escape. Damien was someone nobody wanted to spend the day with; he was just too dangerous.

Damien's face softened. "Fine, I'll give you until 8 p.m."

Grayson sat up. "Yes, sir," he muttered as he hastened out to get dressed. He slipped on a white hoodie with a cross and a pair of black jeans. He put on his shoes and brushed his hair before heading out to join Rosa in the garden. Together, they walked out of the gate.

Grayson sighed. "You saved my life," he remarked.

"You're welcome," she said.

"Are you really heading to church?" he asked. He never recalled his mother being religious. He had only stepped close to a church but never went inside. His mother went in and out, and she looked like she was in a hurry. She never prayed; she was more pagan but believed in God somehow.

"Yes, you'll like it. Everyone is kind," she said, causing him to groan.

"Can I just roam around while I wait for you to be done?" he asked.

Rosa frowned softly. "No, I bet you prefer church to staying back with your uncle."

Grayson snorted. "He is not fair," he admitted while pulling his hands into his hood pocket. "I didn't steal the stu—the chain. It was a huge coincidence that I was on the crime scene," he muttered to himself, but she heard.

"I believe you," she said.

Grayson raised his hood over his head, unable to find a proper reaction. At least one person knew the truth.

A/N

Guys I'm rooting for y'all! you made my day today, with all those comments and I'm very glad to see that people enjoy my work! I'm deeply touched and very grateful! LOVE YA!

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