Broken Hands

26. Missing...

The storm raged outside, and Julian lay in bed, struggling to sleep. His dreams were haunted by the echo of a gunshot and the terrifying image of Grayson lying motionless in a pool of blood. His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Heart pounding, he slipped out of bed, moving through the dark hallway toward Grayson's room. He already had a sinking feeling about what he'd find—or wouldn't.

Reaching Grayson's door, Julian pushed it open, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The bed was perfectly made, just as Grayson had left it in the morning. Julian's stomach clenched. Grayson hadn't come home after getting expelled. He wasn't answering his phone, and the tracking device he usually wore was being tracked but Julian could swear that he took it off. Alex had assured Julian that Grayson would come home eventually, but it was nearing midnight, and Grayson never stayed out this late.

Julian exhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. "He'll be back," he murmured, mostly to convince himself. As he glanced around the room, his eyes landed on Grayson's desk—a mess of papers, wrappers, and clutter. Curious, Julian opened the top drawer, where a crumpled piece of paper caught his attention. With a hint of dread, he unfolded it and began to read.

"This note is probably ridiculous, but I needed to write it because I don't want to text. I'm already gone, and I'm not coming back. This isn't because of you—it's me. You guys have done so much for me, but I don't belong there. My place is somewhere else, somewhere I can't hurt anyone. The damage I've been through can't be undone, and it's only going to get worse like it is now. Don't bother looking for me. I'm sorry it's like this, and I know you'll be upset, but just move on. Live like I never..."

The note trailed off, unfinished. Julian's hands shook as he held the paper, his vision blurring with tears. Grayson had been planning to run away. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. How had it gotten this bad? They'd given him a home, a family. Julian tried to steady his breathing, but questions flooded his mind. Was someone behind this? Then, like a spark, a name crossed his mind—Amber. But no, that didn't make sense, did it? She was just a girl, a quiet one at that. She couldn't be influencing him like this... could she?

Julian's phone vibrated, snapping him back. His hands fumbled as he unlocked it, his pulse spiking when he saw a message from Amber one hour before.

Amber: Julian, I need to come clean. Grayson is messing up, taking way too many risks. He was supposed to drop me off, but he just left. He's not stable, Julian. Please, call him—I can't reach him, and he shouldn't be driving."

Julian's eyes widened as he quickly typed, "We've been trying to reach him, but his phone's not going through. What's going on?"

Amber replied almost instantly: "He might be crashing with his gang for the night."

"Gang?" Julian typed, dread settling in his gut.

"Yeah," she responded. "Grayson's in with a group of ruthless guys. They're at war with another gang, and their leader is after him. I don't know what he's gotten himself into, but I'm scared."

Julian clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US EARLIER?!"

There was a pause, then: "I thought you knew. You live with him. I didn't want to lose him by pushing him away, so I stayed quiet. He's the only one who's ever cared about me, Julian. I'm sorry."

"Do you know where his gang members live?" Julian typed urgently.

But Amber had gone offline.

Julian's chest tightened as he put his phone down. How had he missed this? How had they all missed this? They'd tried so hard to be there for Grayson, to show him he had a family, a safe place. But here he was, running back into darkness, running with people who could only hurt him. It was like watching history repeat itself—only this time, it wasn't Charlie. This time, Grayson was hurting himself.