Deserted - Cara Dee Page 0,23

highway.

Craig entered his mind only because Gray wanted to find a way to compare feelings—the feelings he’d had, and the ones he had now—and more than that, he wanted those feelings to be gone. And despite the clusterfuck Craig had put him through, that time had been easier. Hopeless teenager falling for his closeted, married hockey coach—Christ. For years, Gray had been in love with Craig, and all they’d shared was a stolen kiss. Then all this happened. Gray went through hell, and he met Darius. He’d shared something with Darius, an experience, that no one else would ever understand.

For always having felt like he’d been good at reading his own heart and being in tune with his emotions, Gray found himself beyond lost now.

He knew it wasn’t love. He wasn’t in love with Darius.

At the same time, he also knew now that he’d never been in love with Craig.

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the overwhelming connection Gray felt with Darius didn’t matter because it was something they had to work past. They’d clung to each other like idiots in Florida. Gray had hidden with his savior, and Darius had latched on to Gray because he wanted to see innocence in the world.

Unfortunately, that innocence was gone.

They stopped for dinner at a roadside steakhouse just north of Pittsburgh.

The place was packed with as many suburban families as truck drivers, and the walls were plastered with everything from John Deere signs and license plates to newspaper headlines and Penguins memorabilia.

Jayden requested fried chicken tenders with mac and cheese, after which Gray added a side order of “seasonal vegetables” for him that made Jayden scrunch his nose. But someone had to make sure the boy ate better. For himself, Gray ordered chicken—not fried—with a large salad. And obviously, Darius wanted a big steak.

“How would you like it, sir?” the waitress asked.

“A good vet should be able to bring it back to life,” Darius replied.

Gray watched the waitress giggle and blush before he looked out the window at the dark parking lot.

He wasn’t feeling too well. The thick layer of numbness was slowly thinning out. It messed with his focus; he heard too many voices—the lady two tables away had the most annoying fucking laugh—and he grew restless. He felt like a restrained animal. Always out of place.

There were the ghosts too. Jonas and Milo lived in his head, constantly pleading for their lives. The smells never dissipated either. Gray could pick up the faintest scents that reminded him of…everything. When a waiter passed with what had to be grilled fish, Gray had to hold his breath. He’d had enough of that on the island. Sometimes, a random voice rose above the din and reminded him of one of the guys they’d lost. Other times, it was a movement or someone’s tic.

Fuck.

He ran a hand through his hair and pulled out his phone. He needed to distract himself before the others noticed.

As their drinks arrived, Jayden received a box of crayons to color the designs on his paper placemat.

He eyed the crayons like he’d never used one before.

Gray abandoned his phone and picked up a red crayon. “I was never good at staying within the lines.” He began coloring the front of a house. There was a barn in the background, a tractor, a big sun, horses on the lawn—because that made sense—and some ducks walking toward a pond in the corner. “What color do you think the horses should be?”

Jayden observed for a bit, his gaze wandering between Gray’s coloring and the crayons on the table.

“Black?” he asked rather than stated.

Gray nodded. “Black is a great choice.”

It was painful. The boy knew how to use a knife but had never owned a coloring book.

Gray cursed Jayden’s parents to hell—if they weren’t already there.

“Ducks are brown or white,” Jayden said frankly.

“True.” Gray slowed down when Jayden seemed to get the hang of it. “That’s great, buddy.”

Leaning back in his seat, he watched Jayden for a moment. He was getting into it. He was good too. A quick learner.

Gray ruffled the boy’s hair lightly, then picked up his phone again. But movement across the table caught his eye, and he reluctantly glanced over at Darius, not very surprised to find him observing them. Darius’s hazel eyes were unreadable; they always were when he didn’t wanna reveal what he was thinking.

Despite having gotten better at deciphering Darius’s expressions and anticipating his line of thinking, the man was still a professional, and Gray could probably read