14. Grayson

Grayson

I sit in my recliner, a cup of amber liquid in hand. The lights are dimmed in my condo, but I can't stop staring at the unfinished Batmobile—George's little project, half-finished. I can't touch it, can't stop looking at it. It symbolizes my chaos, my failure as a dad to protect my own son. And that's not all that plagues me.

Three freaking days. It's been three days since my fight with Maggie, and I still can't get her damn hurt look out of my mind. Why was I so mean? "I'm sorry I kissed you," I had said. Just an outright lie. The number of times I've thought of that kiss borders on obsession.

Seeing her in those adorable pajamas, her auburn hair framing her beautiful face, stirs things within me—not just desire. I can almost picture her and my son running around the house, being goofy, building LEGOs, and cuddling. But hell, my life isn't meant for those things. Anyone who gets close would be in trouble, just like my wife.

The sad look on Maggie's face when she told me to leave plagues my dreams. I did the right thing. Nothing could ever come of what I feel for Maggie.

My life in the Cardenas family made me hard and closed off to everyone. It only got worse when my wife was taken from me. The stiff attitude grew through the years, especially in prison. In all honesty, it's probably for the best that Maggie—Detective Parker—is scared off. And really, wasn't that what I was trying to do? Being around her, it hurt. It physically ached my body to be around her and not grip onto her for comfort. When she hugged me, I let myself feel it, truly feel it. Everything about it was exactly what I needed. I want to go back, sweep her off her feet, and beg for just one more touch. A hug. A place to rest my tired chin while someone else takes some of my pain for even a fraction of a second.

I'm a melodramatic mess.

A knock on my door shatters my thoughts. I rise to my feet, a little wobbly after a few too many bourbons, and open it up.

Greg and Tommy stand in my doorway. Tommy holds up a six-pack of beers and smiles. "Tilly sent us."

Of course, she did. Tilly doesn't know how to mind her own business. But it's not all Tilly's fault. Miranda surely told Tilly about the problems at the office. I've been sulking around for days, not even bothering to feign interest in work or Miranda's frequent fights with Roger.

I step to the side. "Do come in."

The men come inside, and Greg flips on a light as Tommy goes to my fridge. "You don't have frozen mugs? Damn, Gray, I thought you were super organized, man." Though Tommy and I have grown closer, I haven't spent as much time with Greg. From what I know, he's a nice man. A lucky man. With a wife and a kid. A man I wish I was. Same with Tommy, I guess. That's harder to be jealous of because he's with my cousin. Tommy and I did end up getting pie a few days ago, but I barely said a word the entire time. Good pie, though.

"I don't drink beer that much," I say casually. I much prefer red wine or bourbon.

"I guess it's out of the bottles, Greg." It's annoying how exasperated he sounds.

Greg is already sitting on the couch. "There's a game on," he says, already reaching for the remote.

I return to my recliner, already wishing for a top-off of my drink.

The TV comes to life, and both the other men are eagerly watching some team smash into another on the screen. The quiet suits me just fine, but when a commercial begins, Tommy mutes the sound.

"So, uh, George is gone, huh?"

I nod and sip my almost-empty glass. "Man, that blows," Tommy says. He looks at Greg and rubs his neck. "I'd probably swim out to sea and never look back if my boys were taken from me."

"George wasn't taken. I sent him away."

But Greg is shaking his head. "He was forced away, Grayson, by these people that want you dead."

Though I know what Greg is trying to do, I still can't fully accept the notion. "You know you did the right thing," Tommy adds.

"I suppose," I say. It's hard not to add that it feels so wrong I think my heart will implode.

"And what about your girl? That little fiery detective?" Tommy asks.

"She doesn't want a Cardenas," I hiss, my faux Spanish accent coming out a bit more with the hatred of my last name.

"Oh, that's not true. I saw the way she was looking at you. Like a hyena drooling over a giraffe carcass," Tommy says. Both Greg and I level a strange stare at Tommy, and he shrugs. "The kids like nature shows."

I crack a smile. George loves watching nature shows too and has seen some messed-up stuff about the circle of life. "TJ too. The kid might be a psycho. He loves big cats. Lions, cheetahs, panthers—they are brutal. I sleep with one eye open," Greg says, chuckling.

I sit up a bit. "George runs around naked and hoots like a monkey sometimes. I try not to laugh, but…" the sadness creeps into my voice, and I swallow. "I miss my son."

Both Tommy and Greg let out a sigh. "We know, man," Tommy says. "But Greg has this guy, a PI dude that helped me with Tilly's little issue. We thought maybe he could help. So we called him up. Conner."

I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Greg takes a drink, sets the beer down, then scoots to the edge of the couch. "He found a name. Axe's brother is a Navy guy, stationed at San Clemente Airfield. Lars Courtney. He arranged a meeting."

At that news, I get to my feet, a burst of excitement sobering me almost immediately. "When?"

"Tomorrow. But…" Greg looks at Tommy. Their friend nods as if to urge Greg on. "You'll need an escort to get on base."

"I don't know any Navy personnel."

"Cops can get on too," he says. I'm already shaking my head. There is simply no way Maggie would help me after what I said to her.

"She wants nothing to do with me, trust me." I did my very best to push us apart, and it worked. She hasn't called or texted all week. Not that I expected her to.

Greg stands up. "Grayson, you have to try. You want George back, you gotta figure out who's doing this."

Tommy nods along. "And Tilly's gonna go speak to Papa. But she has to wait for visiting hours over the weekend."

The information buzzes through my head. It's a start. Something to do, a way to get my George back. Lori had no problem taking George back to Oregon, but I could see that she was tired. And I want George in my life more than anything. I want a nice house, a safe—but simple—life where our biggest worry is what's for dinner. This is a way to start toward that.

"I need to shower," I say, unsteady on my feet.

Greg is laughing as Tommy gets up. "You want some coffee first?"

I hold up my hand. "No. You two have been—"

"A godsend?" Tommy jokingly interrupts.

But Greg is more serious. "We're family, Gray. This is what a real family does. God, I hate that I even have to say that. Your family did a number on you guys. It's messed up." With a pat on the shoulder, I feel myself relax a little more.

I smile, trying to break some of the emotions that are still swirling around in my gut. "Are we family? I mean, Sam and you definitely aren't, but even Tommy. Where's the ring?"

"Dude, I'm working on it. Tilly's—"

"A stubborn ass?" I finish, and all three of us laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that." Tommy looks at the ground, some sadness clouding his eyes. He takes a deep breath and smiles. "Go shower, man. We're gonna take off. Call us tomorrow and let us know how it goes with your cop. If you need ideas for handcuffs, Tilly and I—"

Both Greg and I shout, "Don't!" at the same time.

Tommy is grinning like a fool as he shrugs. "Okay, but trust me, you're missing out." I don't know if I should be terrified or impressed. My man brain wants to applaud Tommy for his bedroom adventures, but my cousin brain wants to slap him upside the head.

I decide to split the difference with a deadpan joke. "Trust me, I've probably done it, and I don't use safe words."

But Greg leans forward with such a serious look on his face that I know my attempt at humor went over both their heads. "Like chains?"

I nod with a sly grin. It's not in the least bit true. People like to think that because I'm a bit of a grouch, it means I'm some sort of animal in the bedroom. I can be. But there's a tender intensity that I chase much more often. One you can only get with a deep connection. Like the one Maggie and I have. At even the thought of how amazing we could be together physically, my slacks are growing tighter. Not a great situation to be in when you're in a room full of men you aren't attracted to.

"Woah, nice." Tommy holds his fist out, and I bump it. He never needs to know I'm pulling his leg. That's what he gets for being too descriptive about sex with my cousin.

"Call us, for real." Greg and Tommy are already getting up to leave by the time I promise to do just that.

As I head to the bathroom, I hear the front door close just before I turn on the water. Despite my reservations when the men showed up, I am eternally grateful for Tilly's idea to send them. Though she would hate it if she knew, Tilly is becoming the head of our family, much like Tia had been. Though I know it is in a much better and more loving way. I step into the hot water, a smile on my face. I have a plan, and maybe George will get to come home soon.