“Right.” Owen stepped around me and went to Grace, taking her hand in his. “So you don’t think she’s brain dead?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He shook his head. “The doctors say so, but she wakes and sleeps and blinks. Maybe I’m an idealist. She slept the whole first year, and when she woke up, everyone was so excited, but she still wasn’t here. They say she’s brain dead; I choose to think she’s healing. But maybe that’s because I can’t wrap my head around her never recovering.” He sent a sympathetic smile over his shoulder at me. “But Gray’s never left her. He keeps visiting, even as…hard as he’s become. I hear he’s different around you, though.”
My eyes narrowed. “From whom?”
“Parker.”
He was friends with Parker, that explained how I’d heard his name. “Ah, yeah, she’s not exactly my biggest fan.”
He laughed. “That’s Parker. Don’t let her get to you. She’s holding a torch for G-squared to get back together.”
“G-squared?”
He turned back to Grace, his thumb circling the back of her hand. “Grayson and Grace. You know, like Brangelina, or Bennifer?”
My mouth popped open. They had a freaking name? Of course they did. They were perfect. Where the hell was Mia? “You know, I think I’m going to go find Mia. She was actually looking for Parker…”
“Miranda, that’s Grace’s sister, she’s in labor. My guess would be that’s where Mia and Parker ran off to. Did you hear that, Gracie? You’re about to be an aunt.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Grayson’s voice boomed before he stepped fully into the room.
I stepped forward, ready to explain my shoving another foothold into his life and apologize, but it wasn’t me he was yelling at.
Owen stood from Grace’s bedside and put his hands up. “Gray, I just wanted to stop by and see her. I didn’t realize you were home this weekend until I saw—”
Grayson grabbed ahold of Owen and shoved him against the wall. What the hell? “You come here? You don’t get to see her. Ever.” A framed painting fell off its nail and crashed to the ground, shattering the glass. His forearm pressed against Owen’s throat, and then he leaned in.
For the first time, Grayson’s strength scared the shit out of me.
“I’m sorry, Gray,” Owen garbled. “I’ve tried to tell you for years. I’m so sorry. I check in on her when I’m in town.”
“You’re sorry?” Grayson’s voice dropped dangerously low. I’d never seen him so angry, so ruled by emotion. What the hell could this guy have done to bring down Grayson’s prized control? “You’re fucking sorry? Let me know when sorry wakes her up and gives her back the five years you’ve taken from her! From all of us!”
It clicked. Owen. He was the one driving that night. He was responsible for what had happened to Grace. Grayson leaned further, and Owen’s color changed from a mottled red to a sickening purple.
“Grayson!” I shouted as I ran to him.
His gaze pivoted, full of so much loathing and hatred that I barely recognized him. I gasped, my hands inches from his skin.
The second he recognized me, his eyes widened and his face softened. His grip on Owen didn’t. I stepped forward slowly and laid my hand on his arm. “You have to let him go. You’re going to kill him.”
His breath released in a rush. Without taking his eyes off mine, he released his hold on Owen, who slid to the floor among the glass shards.
“What are you doing here?”
Trespassing. Again. I flinched. “Mia brought me. She told me to wait here while she found Parker.”
“They’re with Miranda.” His voice was flat, and I retreated, putting the physical distance between us that the mental seemed to call for.
“Owen?” I called out softly, leaving my eyes locked on Grayson. “You should probably go. Now.”
He scurried to his feet, coughing, then passed me as he moved to the doorway. “Gray, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong, but I thought you were dead, and I lied. You and Grace were my best friends—”