Broken Hands

142. He has to stay away

The moment they broke the hug, the door swung open, and the nurse walked in. She took one look at them and let out a soft giggle.

"This warms my heart," she commented warmly. "It's always a pleasant sight to see such strong bonds."

Grayson barely reacted, but Julian grinned. Russell rolled his eyes with a lopsided smile, but Grayson just sat back in silence.

Julian, ever the chatterbox, wasted no time. "Well, that's that! Now we can finally enjoy the rest of our holiday. We still have some weeks left—" He turned toward Grayson, his expression curious. "Speaking of which, where are you thinking of applying for college?"

Before Grayson could speak, Russell scoffed. "College? Grayson's not going to college. He wants to race."

Grayson looked toward the nurse as she started preparing injections for Russell. The sharp scent of alcohol wipes filled the air.

"I'll start applying tomorrow," Grayson said, his tone flat.

Julian's face brightened instantly. "Really?"

Russell, however, looked stunned. "What? Grayson, you said college was a pain. You literally hated every second of school."

Grayson shrugged, his voice void of emotion. "It's better that way. I can cope."

Russell's face fell. He opened his mouth as if to say something but shut it just as quickly.

Before anyone could add anything else, the door swung open again. Rita stepped in, her presence like a sharp chill against Grayson's skin.

Her gaze locked on him—cold, accusatory, unwavering. She didn't say anything to him, only crossed her arms and turned to the nurse, speaking in clipped, professional tones.

Grayson knew that look. She blamed him. And she was right. One hundred percent right.

He stood up, pushing his tank back. "We just landed. I should go. I need to see Senior Smith."

Julian raises a brow. "That's new."

Grayson shrugged, already wheeling his oxygen tank toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow. Hopefully." He glanced out the window. "It's getting late."

Russell nodded, but Rita's glare burned into Grayson's back as he moved. He didn't have the energy to meet it.

Outside, Julian followed closely behind him, his footsteps light but his presence weighted with concern.

"Are you okay?" Julian asked as soon as they were alone.

"Yeah," Grayson affirmed. His tone betrayed nothing.

Julian's innocent blue eyes studied him, searching for cracks. "Are you lying?"

Even he didn't know if he was lying. Something was off with him, and he couldn't explain it.

Before he could dwell on it, a set of footsteps interrupted them. Grayson looked up to find Grace and Savanna approaching.

Julian nodded at Grace, who offered Grayson a small, relieved smile. "Glad to have you back, Grayson." Her voice was soft before she turned to Julian and they headed inside.

Savanna lingered, her gaze locked on him. Just the two of them.

Grayson moved toward the waiting section and sat down cautiously his ribs ached. She followed, settling beside him.

"Looks like you survived another storm." She said with a tune that held more than just concern. It was written in her blue eyes.

Grayson nodded in response, then glanced at her bandaged foot. "Sorry about your foot."