by EJ Everette
“Ex-fucking-cuse me?!” Leanne snaps back. One thing about my five foot sprite of a friend, she is fierce as shit and does not take disrespect from anyone. It is one of the things I have always loved about her. Despite her height deficiency, she makes me feel safe. “This is my house, you ass. Just be grateful I let you in to begin with. And of course, if you’re going to bring some bomb-ass food in here, I am getting some.”
With that, she hops over to the spread laid out on the counter and starts dishing her plate up. I have to laugh because, if the guys thought they were just going to push my bestie around, they really have another thing coming. And, let’s be honest, food is the third best thing in life to Leanne, with sex and her besties coming in first and second place, the order of those changing by the day.
Thankfully, no one else seems interested in getting a dig in, and everyone makes a plate to eat. Rip is the one to bring me mine, and I see Chance has made his infamous enchiladas with some sort of green sauce coating them. There is also a goulash of some sort with spices, corn, tomato, and what looks like black and red beans, over rice. It smells amazing, and I dig in, famished beyond thought. After I get a decent amount inhaled, though, I notice how quiet the room is. Sure, we eat together often enough, and I am used to conversation slowing once everyone starts eating, but this is different. There is no slowing of the conversations because no one has said anything. At all.
Mitch looks down at his food, no eye contact coming from him now that we are with the rest of the guys. Reid keeps stealing little glances my way, but even his rowdy self has stayed quiet. He is wearing another tank with large arm holes and his dark auburn hair is mussed like he just woke up. Maybe he was able to get some rest, at least. Still his green eyes refuse to meet mine. Speaking of those green eyes, Rip sits directly across from me and, much like his twin, is also avoiding making eye contact. As always, Rip looks the picture of put-together in his button down short-sleeve dress shirt, his hair perfectly combed to the side and out of his face. His glasses have slid just a bit down his nose, the result of keeping his head cast downward to avoid me.
Dean looks, well he looks as much a mess as I do. His hazel eyes with hints of blue usually remind me of ocean waves rushing the sandy shore. Today, they look bleak with little to no color or life to them. While he isn’t looking down and away from me like the others, he isn’t acknowledging me either. His fo-mohawk, always styled in one fashion or another to show off his golden bronze highlights, is loose and lays around his head in disarray. He wears a tank, much like Reid’s, though his isn’t as loosely cut, holding tight to his body which looks thinner than I remember, even if just slightly. What the hell is going on?
Then, there is Chance. Unlike his friends, Chance is looking straight at me from his place on the stool by the counter. Dressed in a tightly fitted hunter green tee, dark wash jeans, sandals, and belt to match, he looks the least affected by the recent days. That is, until I look at him, really look at him, and meet his eyes. Those deep baby blues are troubled, empty. He may be staring straight at me, but there are so many things between the two of us that only he can see. Swells of puffed skin surround his eyes, his mouth is firm and straight, as if he is trying to prevent himself from showing emotion. What has happened since I said goodbye to them this morning? Why does Chance look mad? Or, maybe he isn’t mad. Maybe he is… scared of something?
“Okay, like seriously?” Leanne, ever the observant one, notices just how weird everyone is acting. “Ya’ll act like five year olds when you get here, begging me to go wake her up because you just have to see that she is fine, and now you can’t look at her or say two fucking words? She was in a fire, damnit, she didn’t die. Whatever your drama is, get over it or get out.” She rolls her eyes, throws her look of pity at me, then shrugs her shoulders before leaving the room in a huff. Within seconds I can hear her running up the stairs, effectively leaving me with my room full of mimes to work out our shit. Well played, Le. She is going to get an earful from me later tonight, no matter how right she is.
When no one says anything for another awkward minute or two, I push my plate away, preparing to get out of my chair and join Leanne. The guys can leave if they are going to be like this. Before I can scoot my chair back, Reid’s hand stops it from moving from his place next to me at the table. He looks around the table as if to ask permission, but oddly enough it is Dean who speaks next.
“Gray,” his voice is strained much like mine, and my mind flashes to that night, watching as he and Reid run into the house to get Grams. They both came back looking minimally affected but, what if he had suffered from the smoke and flames like I had. Shit, I didn’t even think about it like that. My mind takes too long to connect the dots, though, because he continues before I can ask him how he is feeling. “We need to talk. All of us. We need to talk to you about what happened that night. With Charlie. With us.”
In a twist of events, all eyes are now firmly on me, waiting for my reaction. They want to talk. They want to talk about what happened when I brought my brother back from the dead. When they all touched me and I felt power moving through every molecule of my body unlike anything I have ever experienced. They want to talk about how, ever since then, I can feel them when they are near, sense when they are away, read their emotions. I am not crazy. I can see it in all of their eyes now that they are choosing to show me what they are thinking. We are going to talk and they are finally going to tell me just what the hell happened the night of the fire. Am I ready?
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say. This time, Reid pulls my chair out for me when I try to stand. In silence, because this shit isn’t intense enough, they follow me out to the back deck. I don’t want to run the risk of Charlie waking up and overhearing anything or Le coming downstairs in the middle of whatever is about to go down. Once we are all situated down the backside of the deck, the furthest we can be from the house, I take a deep breath, giving these guys my full attention.
“Well? Who wants to start?” I sound much more confident than I am, which is great right up until Reid decides subtlety is for the birds and blurts out the most asinine thing I have ever heard.
“You ignited!”
5
Gray
“The fuck?”
“Seriously, dude?”
“Reid, that is not how we agreed to do this. What were you thinking?”
The guys are huddled together, all barking their frustration at Reid for shouting out whatever that shit was supposed to be. Me? I am sitting in my chair in shock. Oh yeah, shock. Why? Well as weird as it may be, the moment he said those words, I felt it. Not sure what the hell “it” is, but I felt it. Ignited. I know, before anyone says anything else to me about it, that is what happened. Of course, what I don’t know is what in the world “ignited” means and why it happened to me. These guys though, the ones arguing right in front of me, this group of men I didn’t know from Adam just a few weeks ago, they do know. They might not know everything, but they sure as shit know something and I am going to find out right now what that something is.
“Sit down,” I choke out. Ugh. Clearing my throat, I try again. I am going to need to channel the Gray I used to be to get through this. Shut it off, full robot-mode, no feelings, just results, Gray. With more force, I repeat myself, this time loud enough to be heard over their bickering. “Sit. Down.”
Five sets of eyes snap my direction. Rip looks like he is about to say something, but I stand up in my spot, pointing to the chairs around me. “No. I am going to talk. You are going to listen. Then, when I am done, you will explain. So, like I said, sit down.”
The shock on their faces would normally have made me feel guilty for being so harsh with them, but I had already turned all the emotion in me off, focusing only on getting the answers that I need. Guilt is something future Gray can deal with. They settle into their seats, though none of them look even remotely relaxed. Rip has his elbows on his knees, his hands folded in a prayer-like fashion, poking directly into his chi
n but his eyes never leave me. Reid looks nervous, almost like he is about to get sick, another thing for future Gray to feel bad about later. Mitch and Chance sit next to each other, their knees bouncing slightly, the only indication either of them is anticipating what is to come. The real kicker here is Dean. He looks, dare I say, relieved? No matter. It’s time to focus.
“Just a few weeks ago, my life was normal. Well, as normal as a life like mine could be. Then, you five show up and shit starts happening. First, I start to feel this weird sensation every time you touch me. When our hands touch, legs bump, when you hug me. Every single time, electricity.” I look around at them to gauge their reactions to this news. Guess I was the late comer since none of them look surprised, though Chance looks a little more intense than I anticipated, in like a hot steamy way. The fuck is that about? Future Gray… Not the problem of the moment.
“If I may…” Rip holds a steepled finger out, as to indicate he wants to say something, but I am talking right now.
“You may not,” I dismiss him. We lock eyes and I swear I can feel some sort of fire from him, overwhelming heat, though it doesn’t burn, before he blinks a few times and goes back to his position of attention.
“We are going to be honest. I am no longer doing this secret keeping shit. You will be honest and forthcoming with me. About everything. In turn, I will tell you everything I know and have been dealing with as well. I want answers. I know you have them. Don’t say anything, just nod that you understand how this is going to go down. Don’t interrupt me, please.” I put the please on the end so I am not coming off like a complete bitch, but they need to know how serious this is. Each of them nod, though some of them so slightly I barely register it. Still.
“Good, now we can continue.” I move myself to stand away from them so there is some distance between us, though I am still plenty close enough for them to hear me, even while speaking in soft tones. “At first, I thought it was just me. I have had a really rough life,” my voice breaks just a tad and I seal that shit up fast. No emotions right now. I have to get through this.
“Charlie and I lost our mom when we were young. Since then, we haven’t always lived with Grams. Sometimes, we were in homes together with people who tried to love us and care for us. More often, though, we found ourselves torn apart, living in different places, alone, with monsters. Horrible, disgusting, monsters.” Despite years of practice, it has been awhile since I have had to shut everything off, and salty stinging water pools in the lids of my straining eyes. I need to get through this. I know I do. Come on, Gray. You’ve got this, girl.
“There are too many incidents to tell you right now, and so much about Charlie… that I don’t even know. Suffice it to say, life was a shit sandwich for a long time. Grams… Grams saved us. She got custody of us and gave us a home. We have been here for a few years now, and still neither of us are healed. Still, we carry pain no one should have to live with. I don’t trust people. I don’t accept friends into my life. Leanne and Tanner? They’re it. They are the only ones to make the cut, breach the dam, and really know me. Before them, there was no one. They know next to nothing about my life before I moved here, but they accept it. The point I am trying to make to you right now is this. I should never have allowed you to touch me. To know me. To get close to me. You are all big, strong men. You don’t even look like goddamn high schoolers. You could all hurt me, over power me, destroy me. I never should have let you hold my hand, kiss my cheek, see my soul. This,” I say pointing between where they sit and my heart, the tears now obvious to the guys no matter how desperately I tried to contain them, “this shouldn’t happen. I can fucking FEEL you in me. I can sense your emotions, know when you are close, ache with your distance. Somehow you have found your way to me, we have connected, and it scares the shit out of me because I should NOT feel safe with you. But… I have. From day one. And I don’t know why. Why? What have you done to me?”
They sit in the most epic stillness for a moment, allowing me to let my tears fall in silence before wiping them away and stepping back toward them. I grab a chair and slowly sit, my mind and heart both racing a million miles a minute. Now what?
It is Dean, not Rip, who moves first. He scoots his seat back from the table, standing in slow motion, as if any sudden movement will cause me to run. I am not some goddamn wounded animal.
Well, I guess, right now, maybe I am.
By the time he reaches me, I have calmed my breathing enough to prevent me from passing out from lack of oxygen. He stops, just short of where I sit, and drops to his knees beside me. He reaches out to hold my hand, but I don’t make a move to offer it. Seeing the hesitancy in my eyes, he places his hand on the arm of my lawn chair instead.
“Angel, are you sure right now is a good time for this? You’ve only just gotten home from the hospital. You have suffered so much in the last few days. We can wait and talk later, after you’ve rested more.” His voice is sincere, but I can see, and sense, the fear behind his eyes. No. We are doing this now.
“No, we need to do this shit now.” Though they were my thoughts, Chance is the one standing while firmly stating enough is enough. “Let’s just get it over with. Then she can be rid of us, or whatever, since we are so damn intrusive in her life. She can go back to how things were with her friends and we can deal like we have been.” He pushes away from the group and walks off into the backyard a few steps before sitting down in the grass. No one makes a move to retrieve him which is fine by me. If he wants to be an ass, so be it.
“As much as I hate to agree with him right now, Chance is right. We need to get it over with.” Rip has dropped his hands to his knees finally, and straightens his back in preparation. Shit, what did I get myself into with these guys? Everything is so extreme. At the moment, so much of me is regretting putting my foot down and demanding answers. After all, ignorance is bliss, right?
“This is great and all,” I look down at Dean who hasn’t moved from his kneeling position beside me, “but how about we stop talking about talking about it, and actually talk about it. Someone just tell me what the hell is going on with you, why I feel like this, and how on earth I saved the life of my brother that night with my bare hands?”
“Fine. Fine. You’re right. Dean, come sit down. Give her some space. It’s time. Rip?” Mitch looks over at his friend as if to ask permission to go further. I misread that entirely when Rip nods his head and turns to me. I guess he will be sharing this time around. Sad because, to be honest, there is something soothing about Mitch that just makes things easier to deal with when he is around. With Rip, everything is so raw and real. Perfectly stated with no room for doubt. Still, I asked for answers and I know Rip won’t lie to me.
Rip stands, then sits, before deciding his posture is irrelevant and stands again to pace the deck where we sit.
“I am going to tell you a story. Our story. Your story. I know you will have questions, but just try to let me get through this and I promise we will answer them the best we can. Ok?” He looks at me hesitantly, considering a few moments ago I took control of the situation away from him and now he is asking me to let him lead. I nod, the best I can do right now, my nerves on high alert, bouncing around within me in anticipation...and worry.
“A very long time ago, before any of us were born, a prophecy was told of a princess who would give birth to a child who would change all of the worlds for the better, or possibly for the worse. I say worlds, we call them realms, because Gray, earth as you know it is not the only place in existence. It’s not even where you are from. Where any of us are from. But, I will get back to that.”
Get back to that? This guy just told me there are multiple worlds and I am from one of them that isn’t earth? Are all of them high? Realms?
“Anyway, the king and ruler of all the realms gathered with his council members and decided to intervene to prevent the prophecy from coming true. While there was potential for this girl to improve their lives, unite the people, there was still a risk s
he could destroy them all. That was not a risk he was willing to take. Unfortunately, as in most cases where prophecies are foretold, there was no stopping destiny. The princess did, indeed, find herself with child and, knowing the future meant for her child, ran away to the earth realm to hide from her father. The council met and many were sent to find the princess throughout all of the realms, but none had any luck. Knowing the potential for the prophecy child to bring ruin to all of the realms, the king and his council appointed guardians from each of the main houses, representing the realms aligned with the throne and House of Moriah, where the king ruled. These guardians were sent to find the prophecy child, protect her, and help her fulfill her destiny when the time came while also protecting the realms from destruction.”
Rip takes a moment to look at each of the guys, a slight nod from each pushes him forward. At this point, Chance has returned to our group, though he stays far in the back. My mind is trying to wrap itself around what sounds like a fairytale coming from Rip. Realms and princesses, prophecies and guardians. This can’t be real, yet I can’t sense any lie in what he says.
“One guardian was sent from the House of Illiri, the guardians of Valenica, the whole of the universe.” Rip says this, but Dean stands.
“Those of the House of Illiri are the assassins of the night skies,” Dean continues. “We can change our form in our home realm and our job is to protect Valencia and all who reside within her, with our life.” He looks off from me before sitting down, obviously finished with whatever he had to say.
“Two guardians were sent from the House of Brek, the kingdom’s scholars. Our parents were from different houses, and Reid and I possess different abilities, making the choice to add us as guardians the best one for the realms.” Reid stands in his chair and, I shit you not, winks at me, a smirk across his face. How in the hell can he be playful in a moment like this? Still, he straightens up at his brother’s acknowledgement.