18. Fear

Calliope was right. This is her house, maybe we once used it as if it was ours but Chris isn't the only one living there now.

But ruining our whole party for some pay back, bringing all these random people from the city is so uncalled for.

The boys and I had sat outside near the bonfire, "I'm telling you lot, something happened at max's it's why her friend Tess went all crazy on us." I let them into my thoughts.

"Yeah but what did we do?" Tyler shrugged.

"I don't think Cals pissed with us, I think she's scared." I suggested and the boys practically laughed.

"Why would she be scared?" A couple of the guys asked.

"Think about it, she didn't want loads of people she didn't know round here, especially people we knew, she won't speak to us, she practically goes still when we look at her."

"Fair, but why's she scared of us?" Vince questioned and I shrugged, "maybe we should find out."

"Allie...." Theo trailed on, "what do you want now Theo?" I crossed my arms at him, knowing the tone he uses when he wants something.

"Can you get us more vodka? Pleaseee!" He begged and I nodded mainly because I wanted more too.

I made my way to the kitchen passing crowds of people, to my surprise no one was in the kitchen, they were all outside or in other

I scanned the bottles of alcohol and reached out for the Smirnoff vodka raspberry. "Hey Callie."

I froze.

GRAYSON MAVERICK I SWEAR TO GOD LEAVE ME ALONE!

For fucks sake.

"Sorry I ruined your party." I shrugged at him and leaned my back on the kitchen counter, he walked round the island and over to me.

I forced myself to stay relaxed, tightening my grip on the bottle of vodka.

Grayson stopped a few feet in front of me, leaning on the counter like he had all the time in the world. His eyes scanned my face, sharp and calculating, like he could see the exact moment I wanted to bolt.

I wasn't giving him that satisfaction.

"So what, you had a point to prove," he said, tilting his head slightly. "But the question still remains, Angel—why are you avoiding us?"

I rolled my eyes, forcing a smirk. "Avoiding you? Please."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you just don't look at us anymore for fun?"

I scoffed. "I didn't realize you were so desperate for my attention, Maverick."

He smirked like I had just proven something.

I hated that look.

He took another step closer, his cologne mixing with the faint scent of vodka in the air. "Cut the bullshit, Callie. Something changed. You won't even look at us."

I clenched my jaw, staring at the bottle in my hand. "Nothing changed."

"That's a lie."

I exhaled sharply. "Jesus, Maverick, you're acting like we were best friends or something."

His expression flickered, just for a second. "Maybe not. But you didn't flinch around us before."

I stilled.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

My stomach twisted, the memory of Max's party flashing in my head.

The music too loud.

The air too thick.

The weight of that guy pinning me against the wall—

I shoved it down, forcing a laugh. "Are you looking for an apology? Because I'm not sorry I invited my friends to your party."

Grayson didn't blink. "I don't give a shit about the party, Callie. I care about why you're suddenly acting like we're the enemy."

Because I don't trust you to have my back. Because you were gone when I needed someone most, when I was at the point of screaming and no one but Tess came.

The thought came so fast it nearly made me sick.

I backed myself further into the counter somehow, my shoulders hitting the cabinets. "You're overthinking it."

Grayson studied me for a long moment.

Then, to my surprise, he sighed. "You're a shit liar."

I bristled. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head. "You think I don't know what it looks like when someone's putting up walls?"

I swallowed hard. "Maverick, I don't know what—"

"You can pretend all you want, Angel." His voice dropped slightly, something softer underneath the usual cocky tone. "But whatever it is, it's still there. And it's eating you alive."

I froze.

For the first time all night, I didn't have a response.

Grayson leaned in slightly, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him.

"But hey," he muttered. "If you wanna pretend you don't give a shit, go ahead. Just don't expect us to stop watching your back."

His eyes scanned me, freezing at the sight of something, I scanned myself, I looked fine, a simple white dress, a necklace, converse.

He wasn't looking at my outfit though... he was looking at my wrist, the one with dark purple-bluish bruises I got from Ryan, I even had them on my hips from where he had grabbed me. Luckily no one could see those.

"What the fucks this?" He held my hand up gently, staring at it in horror.

"Callie what the fuck is this?!" He sounded more desperate for a answer and I opened my mouth to give him one, but I couldn't, nothing came out of my mouth.

I felt my eyes go glossy, and Grayson looked pissed beyond belief. His grip was careful, his fingers barely pressing against my bruised wrist, but his voice was anything but gentle.

"Callie." His tone was sharp, demanding. "Who the fuck did this to you?"

I tried to yank my hand back, but he didn't let go—he wasn't hurting me, but he wasn't letting me run from this.

I swallowed hard. "It's nothing."

His jaw clenched. "Bullshit."

I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat, my head spinning, my body screaming at me to do something—push him off, make a joke, tell him to mind his own business.

But nothing came out.

Nothing except the memory of Ryan's hands digging into my skin, his breath reeking of alcohol, the panic rising in my chest as I shoved against him and no one was there—

Worse stuff has happened in the city, but I've always had the upper hand, whether that was due to my crew or the pocket knife I used to carry with me, that I now don't even think of using.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Grayson must've seen something on my face because his whole body went rigid.

"Who was it?" His voice was lower now, dangerous.

I forced myself to laugh, but it sounded shaky, even to me. "Why do you care?"

His eyes snapped to mine, and for a second, he looked genuinely pissed. "Because you're Calliope fucking Brooks, and no one should ever put their hands on you like that."

I didn't know what to say to that.

I shook my head, yanking my wrist free. "It's done, okay? Just—drop it."

"Not a chance in hell."

I groaned, stepping back, gripping the vodka bottle tighter. "What are you gonna do, Maverick? Go find some random guy at this party and start a fight? That's not gonna change what already happened."

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "It's not about changing what happened, Callie. It's about making sure it never happens again."

Something in my chest squeezed.

I looked at him—really looked at him.

Grayson Maverick. Cocky, smug, always in control. But right now, his expression was dark, his jaw tight, his whole body wound up like he was seconds from throwing a punch.

And the worst part?

I believed him.

I believed that if I gave him a name, he'd do something about it.

Maybe that should've made me feel better.

It didn't.

It just made me tired.

I exhaled slowly. "Just leave it alone, Maverick."

His eyes burned into me.

Then, after a long moment, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're impossible."

I smirked, ignoring the way my hands were still shaking. "And you're annoying."

He huffed a laugh, but his expression was still tense.

I took that as my cue to leave.

I turned, walking away before he could push for more.

But as I slipped back into the party, my wrist still tingling from where he touched it, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

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A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONE X

Words: 1417