trauma specialist in Fort Lauderdale had written them down for him to learn, which he hadn’t done yet. He’d get to it.
There was something else too, and Gray frowned. What was this? He retrieved an envelope from the bottom of the bag and flipped it over.
Knucklehead.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek as a pang hit his chest. That motherfucker.
Even though he was tempted to throw the envelope away, he knew he wouldn’t. For chrissakes, this was the problem with Darius—and one of the reasons Gray had left. Because when Darius was around, Gray couldn’t stay away. And now the asshole had left a note.
Did Darius have to know everything? Or was Gray just that predictable?
Opening the envelope, he noticed there was something inside that was a little heavier than a piece of paper. It fell out, and Gray cocked his head at the bottle cap that’d landed on his thigh.
Then he unfolded the letter and read.
Maybe it takes a fighter to recognize a runner. Maybe I’ve just been in the game long enough. If you’re reading this, you’re on the road somewhere, and you’ve decided there’s something you have to go through alone.
I know the feeling, knucklehead. I know because I’ve been there. You get claustrophobic; the walls close in on you, and you feel like a stranger. You want things to go back to the way they were, but they won’t. Your loved ones can sympathize but never relate. You’ve changed. How you look at the world, how you interpret things, how you observe—it’s all different. You can’t laugh at the same jokes your family finds funny, so you put up a front. You pretend, and it works—for a while. Sooner or later, you implode. Or explode in my case.
For years, I coped by letting the rage dictate my next move. When it got to be too much, I punched a fist through a wall or threw a chair till it broke. When I’d calmed down some, I took another assignment.
Don’t do what I did, Gray. Trauma can’t be fixed overnight, and you can’t escape it.
You don’t have to deal with this on your own either. I’m here. I may not be your family, but I care about you, and I get it. I understand what you’re going through.
It’s why I won’t try to get you to return. I know you’ve made your decision, and you’re sticking to it. But keep in mind that there’s someone you can call. Someone who’s made more mistakes and fucked up more than you ever could. I’m the last person who would judge you—or make assumptions.
Be safe,
Darius
PS: At one point or another in our lives, my brothers and I have been on the receiving end of a pep talk from our pop that included a bottle cap. When we see each other again, I’ll tell you the whole story. But save the cap. It means a lot to me.
Gray sniffled and wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand as he set aside the letter and picked up the bottle cap. He wasn’t sure what to think; he wasn’t sure of how he felt, but his body seemed to know. The tears rolled down for several moments while he checked out mentally and just studied the cap.
How fitting. A cap from an Irish beer to remind him of a man with Irish heritage.
Gray hated Guinness.
He flipped the bottle cap between his fingers and focused on taking steady breaths.
He did have to do this on his own—sorta. He had to be away from Darius because he would never be able to fend for himself if he always had someone to lean on. As for his family… No need to explain that one to anyone. Darius was right. Gray didn’t feel like he fit in. He wouldn’t run forever, but something had to give. He had to…do something. He had to change further. Or this sense of being disconnected would never cease. He’d always feel like an outcast.
Gray glanced at the clock on the nightstand and swallowed. He had to get some sleep, despite the nightmares that were waiting to sink their claws into his flesh.
He fucking hated the nightmares.
He hated seeing their faces. Their empty gazes. The blood. He hated hearing their soft, raspy voices—their final pleas—their cries, and their screams of agony.
Gray sniffled again and grabbed his meds. He’d been prescribed medication for anxiety and depression, as well as something that helped him sleep. But he didn’t like those. They