Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(4)

“Can’t you cut me in?” he’d pleaded. “I really need the work.”

“You want to deal?” Darryl had raised a pierced eyebrow as he brushed his light brown dreads over his shoulder, which Grayson thought looked ridiculous on an overweight white guy.

“Yeah.”

“You know what you’re doing?”

Grayson had glanced around to be sure no one was walking nearby, but lowered his voice anyway. “I told you already, I sold weed in California before I got busted. Before that, I moved weed and coke when I was stationed at Fort Irwin.”

Darryl had sneered at him. “Military, huh? Maybe you should’ve stayed in California.”

“Couldn’t. Needed to be near my kid.”

After more pleading on Grayson’s part, Darryl had reluctantly agreed to talk with Rex Gibson, his supplier. The task force had already learned that the ring was led by someone known as the Iceman, but they still had no idea who he was or where he was based. It could be anywhere since the ring operated in DC, Virginia, and Maryland, and those were only the locations they were sure of. The Iceman was the key, and Phoenix had spent hundreds of man hours over the past few months trying—without success—to pin him down.

Shaking his head, Grayson pulled on a T-shirt and jeans before padding into the hallway and pausing outside his mother’s open bedroom door. The room was dim and had a faint medicinal smell, but it was quiet, the only sound her soft breathing. When he’d arrived the night before, he was relieved to find she’d been released from the emergency room and was asleep in her own bed.

This morning, she was lying on her side, her body seeming frail due to the weight she’d lost recently. Thank goodness her fever was down and her discomfort had eased.

He approached her bed and ran his hand gently over his mother’s brow. Eleanor’s head, shaved now due to the chemo, revealed faint blue veins. She shifted in her sleep, pressing a hand to her stomach and wincing before she settled again.

Wanting to let her sleep, Grayson headed down to the kitchen. Until recently it had been peaceful coming here, the one place he could count on getting some sleep. But worry for his mother now stole any chance he had of rest.

Trying to shake off his negative thoughts, he turned on the coffeemaker and busied himself with setting it up. By the time his aunt came downstairs, the coffee had just finished brewing and the first signs of dawn were bleeding through the darkness outside.

“You’re up early, Gray.”

His mother’s twin, Mary was a mirror image of Eleanor. Both women had a tall, willowy build and shoulder-length dark hair now streaked with gray—or, at least, his mother used to. Grayson pinched his eyes closed at the thought. His mother’s hair used to be like Mary’s until she’d started undergoing chemo. And now she needs to wear a damn scarf around her head.

“How long can you stay?” Mary asked, tugging at the sash of her bathrobe before taking a seat at the round oak table in the kitchen.

Grayson forced his attention to his aunt. “I need to be back in DC by tonight.”

Mary frowned and looked away.

“How long are you staying?” he asked.

Her dark brown gaze sharpened on him. “For as long as it takes. I put in for a leave of absence from the hospital. Someone needs to be here.”

Although the words stung, Grayson gave her a nod. Pushing away thoughts that he was a lousy son, he said simply, “She’s in a lot of pain.”

His aunt looked down at her hands clasped together on the table, her expression so sad, it nearly broke his heart. “She’s been trying to hide that from you.”

Grayson’s vision blurred and he blinked hard. Turning to the kitchen cabinet, he busied himself with selecting a couple of mugs and pouring coffee for the two of them . . . black for him, sweet and light for her.

As he joined Mary and placed her mug on the table, she said, “Can I say something to you, Gray?”

Steeling himself, he sat down and wrapped his hands around his mug. “Of course.”

“I know you’re a lot like your mom and that facing this kind of thing isn’t in your DNA, but you’re going to regret it if you’re not here more.” Mary gave him a pointed look as she picked up her coffee, blowing on it before that first tentative sip.

Unable to meet her eyes, Grayson stared at his mug. What would he do if his aunt weren’t here? Take his own leave, probably, and God only knew how that would play out. As it was, he felt like he was about to lose his mind. Nervous energy had made him jumpy and irritable since he’d entered this house. He needed to go on a run, punch a bag—do something to relieve the tension.

Instead, he sat still, enduring his aunt’s silent scrutiny over the rim of her coffee mug. His already bunched muscles contracted even further. Could she sense his restlessness? The fact that he wanted to bolt?

Grayson pulled in a deep breath. She could judge him all she wanted. If her judgment was the price of him not having to watch his mother suffer, then it was a small price to pay. The fact that Mary was a nurse back in Minneapolis was an incredible stroke of luck, and her willingness to take a leave of absence to take care of her sister was a godsend. Mary could berate him all day long in that passive-aggressive way of hers; he could take it.

His aunt set down her mug. “I’m going to make some eggs for your mom. Hopefully, she’ll be able to keep those down.”