Broken Hands

16. It's a choice

Grayson Smith. A name whispered through hallways, spoken in low, cautious tones. It was a name attached to rumors, violence, and dominance-a name that commanded respect and fear. No one crossed Grayson and came out unscathed. Everyone, even the nobodies, knew to stay on his good side. But it wasn't just him; the whole Smith family, the light blond and the dusty blond, they held a force maybe a gift that made them stand out. They were untouchable, almost legendary, school celebrities with an air of mystery and danger.

But beneath the whispers were darker questions no one dared to ask. Why did this family feel so... twisted? Why did Grayson and his cousin live together, as though bound by some secret no one understood? And where were their mothers? No one had ever seen them-not once. The rumors swirled, unanswered.

Judas was done with questions. Since that incident at the café, he'd been digging, and what he found was even better than revenge. He wasn't the only one with eyes on Grayson Smith-there were others, just as curious, just as ready to see him fall. Grayson was a puzzle, a case begging to be cracked open. But Judas knew he had to be smart. Grayson was powerful, and protected. Physically overpowering him wouldn't work. No, this would have to be a different kind of game.

And Judas was ready to play unannounced.

The bleachers were empty, save for Judas and his crew, scattered like vultures waiting for their next thrill. He leaned back, eyes narrowed with a smug satisfaction as he observed Grace approaching with an eager grin.

"Jud, here's the girl you asked for," one of his friends announced, slouching beside him.

Judas glanced up, eyes narrowing as Grace adjusted her round glasses and gave a cheerful wave. "Hiya, Jud!"

He didn't return her smile. "Grace," he said flatly, straightening himself on the bleachers. "You know everything, don't you?"

Grace's eyes gleamed, her expression like a spark waiting to catch fire. "Yeah." She giggled, practically vibrating with the chance to spill gossip.

"Good." Judas's lips curved into a calculating smile. "So, who is Grayson Smith? Who are his parents? Why is he even here? How long's he been around?" He tilted his head slightly. "And what's he popular for? What does he enjoy doing?"

Grace's eyes went wide, almost manic with excitement. "Grayson-aka Gray, Vamp, Vampire, Dark Knight, the Crush, the GOAT, the Black Cherry, Grim Reaper, Sexy Dark, Secret Crush, School Demon Level 1000, the most handsome, freak, psycho-"

Judas let out a low groan, holding up a hand. "Enough. I don't need his nicknames," he muttered, his irritation just below the surface. Then he forced a tight smile. "Just the facts, Grace."

Grace blinked, recalibrating. "Okay," she said, nodding vigorously. "Grayson Smith is one of the most popular kids. Not for sports, but for... fights. And his rebellious vibe, you know? He's... cool, in that dark, mysterious way, and people love him for it. Nobody really knows much about his real family either, except he lives with his two uncles. I've seen his lawyer uncle, and the other one who's with the cops. He looks like Damon Salvatore though, something straight from a movie." She giggled.

Judas raised an eyebrow. "That so?" he murmured, intrigued.

Grace leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard his real family are stinky rich and lives far away. Supposedly, he's here because he was... too much trouble for them." She let the words hang in the air like a secret.

Judas nodded slowly, mulling it over. "How long's he been here?"

"Three years, maybe?" Grace shrugged, glancing up as if searching for confirmation in the sky. "I can't be sure. People say two, others say three. I only met him this year."