Shattered Asylum

Chapter 73

Grayson's POV.

Fifteen minutes.

If he's not back down here in fifteen minutes, I'm going up there. I should've insisted on taking her myself, but I didn't want to argue. Or maybe it's because I didn't want Aven possibly picking Caleb over me?

Caleb's a good guy, caring by nature, but when he's drunk, he can get overly helpful. I notice how he kept hovering around her, too touchy, too flirty.

Seeing her in his arms, her legs wrapped around him, so close... it made my blood boil.

No one should touch her like that but me.

"Gray?" Amy's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"What," I mutter, taking a swig of my beer. I glance at the oven clock.

Ten minutes left.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Amy asks, arms folded, giving me that knowing look.

"Nope." I don't feel like talking. I just want to drown myself in alcohol and forget.

"I know you're hurting. Hell, I would be too if I let a girl like Aven slip through my fingers," she says, eyes piercing into me.

I know what she's doing, trying to get me to open up about Aven, about my feelings.

I want Aven. Fuck, I want her so bad.

But I can't have her.

She'd never understand the things I've done. Once she finds out, she'll want nothing to do with me.

"Grayson, why are you hurting her? Why are you hurting yourself?" Amy steps closer, her voice soft but firm.

She's relentless, always knows the right questions to ask to make me talk.

I ignore her and check my phone. Eight minutes left.

"Grayson, do you really think Aven's better off without you? Because the way she looks at you says otherwise."

I narrow my eyes at her, my jaw tightening. "You don't know what you're talking about," I snap, my voice harsher than I intended.

My hand flies to my hair, tugging hard at the roots, trying to ease the frustration clawing at my chest.

But she doesn't flinch. She just stands there with her arms crossed, waiting like she's got all the time in the world.

I let out a sharp breath, the anger inside me deflating. I lean back against the counter, my head dropping forward.

It feels like her words just knocked the air out of me, landing harder than I care to admit.

"She deserves someone good, Amy," I say finally, my voice low. "Someone who hasn't done the shit I've done. Someone who can give her... everything." My head shakes, a bitter laugh escaping me. "That's not me. It'll never be me."

Amy steps closer, her voice softer now but still sharp enough to cut. "Is that what you really think? Or are you just too scared to let her see all of you?"