Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,18

Out of the apartment,” Grey announced once they were outside.

A warm breeze swept across the backyard, carrying with it the scent of flowers and dried leaves. Grey turned his face toward it, tilting it upward as he smiled.

“Good start. So, where are we?”

Grey twisted, looking over his shoulder even though he couldn’t see Cort. “Are you serious?”

“This is a tour. Tell me about this place.”

Grey sighed again but still waved his hand in front of him. “This is the summer kitchen. We use it a lot because Clay and Baer only know how to grill food.” Grey turned right, shuffled forward a little, and stopped. “I…I’m having trouble remembering the spacing of things. There’s a fireplace on my right and patio furniture in this space.”

“Okay. Doing great. There’s an open lane between the fireplace and the furniture. I won’t let you get hurt. I promise. I want you to count off the steps in your head. I’ll stop you when you reach the wall.”

Grey moved slowly again, one hand held in front of him and the other out to his side toward the furniture. By the time Cort stopped him at the wall, his steps were a little more confident. They continued steadily this way until they got inside the house. Grey shuffled over to the long table in the breakfast area tightly and gripped the back of one of the chairs. His breathing was a little heavy, but there was a wide grin on his face.

“How do you feel?” Cort asked.

“Good. I mean, it’s stupid. I’ve walked that hundreds of times. Short distance. Walked it twice today with Baer and Lucien. This was nothing.”

“It’s not. I bet when you walked it today, someone was holding your arm.”

“Yeah.”

“Not this time. You did that.”

“You were there the whole time,” he countered quickly.

“Nah. I was checking my phone. Wasn’t paying any attention to you.”

Grey choked on a laugh. “Asshole!”

“Grey, accomplishments right now are gonna seem small, but you need to celebrate them all the same. Let yourself feel good about them. Remember how far you’ve come.”

“You’re right. That was good,” Grey agreed, surprising Cort.

“You ready to do that on your own later for dinner?”

Grey’s nose scrunched up a little. “Mind if we do it again tomorrow?”

“Not a problem. I’ll take this tour with you every day for as long as you like. It’s a beautiful house.”

Humming softly, Grey nodded. He turned his head like he was looking around, his expression turning sad. “It is. Dane has done an amazing job. I moved in when he was rehabbing the kitchen. Got to see it before he worked his magic.” Taking another deep breath, Grey straightened. “This is the breakfast nook. We eat nearly all our meals here. The kitchen is over there.” He pointed and Cort reached out to adjust the direction a few inches. “Thanks.”

Turning, Grey cautiously led him into the family room. He was a little shakier here, making it clear that he needed to double-check with Dane on that white cane. The house was much bigger than the apartment, and it was going to take some work memorizing it, but he was confident Grey could get it. There was no doubt in Cort’s mind that Grey knew this place—he just didn’t trust his memory.

As Grey paused next to a chair, Cort looked out the French doors to his left and across the backyard. It was a beautiful fall day with the sun shining brightly overhead. Most of the leaves were still green and likely to stay that way. They were far enough south that the changing seasons didn’t affect the trees in quite the same way as they did farther north.

But…wait…

Cort leaned down and squinted out the window, trying to get a better view of what he knew he shouldn’t be seeing.

But…yeah…he was.

“Grey, is there a zoo behind the house? Or maybe a wild animal sanctuary?”

“What?” Grey demanded, his voice jumping an octave or two.

“A zoo. I swear I saw a giraffe.”

“Where?” Grey’s voice came out high-pitched and slightly strangled.

“In your backyard. A giraffe just poked its head above the trees.” Cort looked over at Grey to find that he’d even turned toward the French door as if he were trying to see out the window. A second later, Grey sighed heavily as if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing.

“A giraffe?” Grey said in a dull, disbelieving voice.

“I’m not hallucinating, I swear!”

“Is it still there?”

Cort looked back, but the giraffe head with the long black tongue was now gone.