Broken Hands

17. Scarred Wrists

Grayson couldn't deny it - the past few days had been good, exhilarating even. He felt a shift deep within, like he was growing beyond the helpless kid he once was. There was a thrill to it, a new taste of freedom that made him feel invincible.

Aiden nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Grayz, this is insane," he muttered, wincing as he downed a shot of gin. His face scrunched in disgust, but he shook it off, setting the glass down with a thud.

Grayson took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the smoke dancing around him. He gave Aiden a sidelong glance, his voice low. "Those guys don't know me," he said with a smirk, the confidence lingering in his words as he exhaled smoke, watching it cloud around his face.

Aiden chuckled, nodding as he gestured with his head toward the far side of the club. A girl with vibrant red hair was dancing, her movements loose and a little sloppy, clearly tipsy. "Not the first time I've seen her around. I'm going for it." He clapped Grayson on the shoulder, steadying himself before getting up.

The sight of that red hair hit Grayson with a flash of familiarity - Amber Woods. He'd seen her at parties, hosted by people from school, and he had intervened more than once to protect her. It couldn't be her, she was never near clubs maybe she did the parties alone. The club wasn't his scene either, but something about the night tugged at him, an undeniable pull that he couldn't resist.

He glanced around, taking in the chaotic scene. People were dancing, gambling, making out in shadowed corners. Aiden had left a bottle of jin on the table, and Grayson eyed it, fingers itching. What was it about alcohol that made everyone crave it? He poured himself a small glass, swallowing hard before taking a sip. The burn hit his throat instantly, bitter and searing. He spat it back into the glass with a muttered, "Shit," grimacing as he wiped his mouth, hoping no one saw that would be embarrassing.

But just then, he caught a glimpse of someone's eyes fixed on him from across the room, piercing and unblinking. The person ducked away into the crowd before he could get a good look. He scanned the room, feeling a chill prickle down his spine. More eyes seemed to dart away as he looked around, disappearing into the shadows like they didn't want to be seen. Hera's voice echoed in his mind, haunting and insistent. "They'll come knocking... and you'll have to face them."

Grayson could feel chills match down his spine as paranoia settled in. He glanced at his watch. Past 1 a.m. - he was already pushing it. Setting the glass down, he spun on his heel, but his haste sent him crashing into someone. He didn't stop to apologize, slipping deeper into the crowded dance floor, dodging the pressing bodies until he found Aiden.

Aiden was tucked into a dark corner, lips locked with the red hair. She gasped as Grayson grabbed Aiden by the arm, yanking him away. "Hey! What the hell, man?" Aiden snapped, glaring at him.

Grayson glanced at the girl and just as he had thought it was Amber. She stared, her gray eyes wide as they locked with Grayson's. A flash of something unreadable passed between them, and he felt his pulse quicken. Ignoring Aiden's protests, he tightened his grip and dragged them both toward the exit.

"Gray, what the hell is your problem?" Aiden spat, stumbling as Grayson pulled him along.

"Shut up. We're getting out of here. Now," Grayson muttered, casting one last wary glance over his shoulder, half-expecting to see those eyes watching him again from the crowd.

Once they were outside, Grayson drew in a deep breath, his chest rising as he tried to calm the simmering tension. He turned to Amber, eyes hard and voice steely. "Go home, Amber. Save yourself now, 'cause this is the last time I'll be doing it."

She frowned, swaying slightly. "Nope," she slurred, attempting to stumble back toward the club. Grayson grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not harsh.

"You're gonna do what I said," he hissed, tone commanding. "There are armed men in there, and you're on the edge of becoming their next target."