Broken Hands

31. Sins unnumbered

Russell strolled into the house with Julian trailing behind, complaining about how hungry he was as he headed straight for the kitchen. Russell, on the other hand, made his way to his room, dropping his backpack before deciding to check on Grayson.

The door to Grayson's room was slightly ajar, so he pushed it open gently and popped his head inside. Grayson was sprawled on his stomach on the bed, laptop perched near the headboard, the screen's blue glow reflecting off his focused expression.

Russell cleared his throat. "Hi, Grayson."

Without sparing a glance, Grayson muttered, "Hi."

Russell stepped fully into the room, leaning against the wall. "Didn't see you this morning. How'd you spend your day?" he asked casually, picking up a pen and twirling it between his fingers.

Grayson shrugged, eyes glued to the screen.

Russell grunted softly, then moved toward the graffiti on the wall. He admired the intricate details Grayson had worked into the design, adding sharper edges to a section with his finger. "Savanna and Milo were asking how you were doing," he recounted.

Grayson's fingers paused briefly on the keyboard before resuming. "How do you think I'm doing?" he shot back lightly, though there was a sharp edge to his tone.

Russell gave a small shrug. "I don't know. You haven't seemed like yourself lately."

Finally, Grayson looked his way, meeting Russell's baby-blue gaze with a glare. "Thanks for pointing it out so graciously, Russell. You're the best," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Russell exhaled, his shoulders drooping. "Grayson, this isn't a fight. I'm just worried about you."

"Well, don't be," Grayson snapped, his tone icy. "I don't need it."

Russell tensed but didn't respond immediately. He returned the pen to the desk, his expression unreadable. "So... what's next? Finals are coming up." He shifted the topic, trying to ease the tension.

Grayson's jaw tightened, his frustration evident. "Your dad's going to make my life a living hell—that's what's next. Maybe if someone had given me a heads-up that he'd just pop in, it'd be different!"

Russell hissed through his teeth. "Grayson, no one knew he'd be coming so soon."

"Yeah, right," Grayson said with a roll of his eyes. "Not falling for that."

Before Russell could respond, the door creaked open, and Julian peeked inside. "Russell, Uncle Damien wants to see us," he said hesitantly, his gaze flicking to Grayson before retreating.

Russell nodded and turned back to Grayson. "Don't keep locking yourself in your head. Try seeing the brighter side of things. It might actually help," he said before walking out.

Grayson didn't respond, his attention already back on his laptop, though his face betrayed his emotions.

Russell changed out of his school uniform in his room, but his thoughts lingered on Grayson. They had clashed plenty in the past, but seeing Grayson like this—angry, withdrawn, and clearly hurting—felt different. The idea that Grayson might be colliding again, possibly resorting to dangerous coping mechanisms, troubled him.

Stepping into the hallway, Russell joined Julian. "I'm ready," he said.

Julian fidgeted nervously. "Do you think we're in trouble too?"

Russell shook his head but kept his voice calm. "Just be honest, okay? Don't dig us into a hole."

Together, they approached the study. Russell knocked, and Damien's deep voice called, "Come in."