“Oh, that’s good,” Greyson was still sitting on the bench, hunched over, arms on his lap with his hands clasped together. His expression neutral, as if partially lost in thought.

Maddy wasn’t sure what the hell came over him. He didn’t like guys. He never liked anyone for that matter. He was always afraid that if anyone discovered the real him, they’d think he was a monster. He must’ve still been sick. That could be the only reason why he was acting so strange. 

“Look, Greyson, I don’t swing that way… Or at least I don’t think I do.” Maddy shook his head to try and get back on topic. “Either way, I just need a minute to process… How I'm feeling.”

“Sure,” Greyson gave him an understanding nod and sat back down to create some space between them.

He let out a breath and watched it crystalize in the early autumn morning. He squeezed his hands into fists inside his pockets and repeated the process a couple of times before sitting down, making sure there were at least a few inches between him and Greyson.

“I can leave, if that’s what you want,” Greyson shifted on the bench so that one foot was raised and he was facing Maddy. “But there’s something I need to know first.”

He turned his head toward Greyson. He didn’t necessarily want Greyson to leave, but maybe it was for the best.

“Is there anyone you know who might want to hurt you?” Greyson asked almost impatiently.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He shook his head, the noose around his heart constricted and his stomach churned.

“Yes, you do.” Greyson’s face turned serious. “You don’t think it’s strange that someone dies in front of you and then two days later your home blows up?”

A chill ran down his spine as cold gray eyes wheedled it’s way to the surface of his memories. His blood bounced underneath his skin, like hot oil in a frying pan. Greyson needed to stop talking. It was making him sick. He closed his eyes. “Please stop talking.”

“I don’t mean to upset you, Maddy,” He brushed a hand through his ashy hair. “But I’ve lived long enough to know what’s a coincidence and what’s not. Somebody is trying to hurt you.”

His stomach churned and he could feel bile rising to his throat. The last thing he wanted was to throw up. He gripped the side of the bench. “No one is trying to hurt me. Bad luck just likes to follow me around.”

…To make up for his sins. But he wasn’t about to tell Greyson about that.

Greyson scoffed and narrowed his gaze on him. “Clearly I’m not getting through to you. Regardless, it’s not safe here, I think you should…”

There was a ringing in Maddy’s as Greyson spoke. It was so loud it made him cup his ears and squeeze his eyes shut. And when he could think straight again he looked over at Greyson, he flushed his cheeks and it wasn’t from embarrassment. 

“I already told you to stop!” He stood up. “I am not in any danger. I am nobody, nothing. The only person who has any claim to go after me is my foster father and last time I checked he was still serving life in prison.”

Maddy snapped his jaw shut. He was this close to almost admitting the truth. His heart thumped hard against his chest as he gazed down at those silver eyes. They were beautiful and dangerous. Without another word, he stalked off deeper into the woods.