“This is different.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Different how?”
“We know Grayson isn’t a danger to anyone.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And Phoebe was?”
“There were people in Phoebe’s life who were dangerous,” he points out.
“How do you know there aren’t people in Grayson’s life who are dangerous?” I rub my hands together as I warm to the idea. “Maybe there’s someone who’s after him for something he did. Like a warlord or maybe another enemy of some type.”
“Whoa!” Wally holds up his hands. “There’s nothing of the sort in his background.”
“Then you did do the check.” I knew it!
“You don’t like anyone digging into your past with Toby.”
I growl at his name. “We don’t talk about him.”
“Exactly. Grayson obviously doesn’t want to talk about his past. Otherwise, he would have told you about it.”
“But his past is affecting his present. He’s all depressed and living in filth.” Filth is a bit of an exaggeration but I’m making a point, darn it! “My history with Toby doesn’t affect me now.”
Wally crosses his arms and stares me down. “Really?”
I nod and pretend my cheeks aren’t burning. For good measure, I cross my fingers behind my back.
We stare at each other for a good thirty seconds. I count the ticking of the seconds from the clock on the wall. Damn it. He knows I have zero patience.
“Fine.” I stomp my foot. “If I admit, there’s the teeniest tiniest possibility Toby the king of the jerks affects my current situation, will you tell me what you found out?”
Wally makes me wait. They must teach patience techniques in the military. How can he resist my adorable pouting face otherwise?
“You should probably sit down for this.”
I bite my tongue before I can start sprouting one of my gazillion questions. I know if I speak now Wally will make me wait even more. And I am done with waiting. I take a seat and look up at him. The picture of decorum. Yeah, I didn’t believe those words either.
“When Grayson was in Afghanistan, he got sick with a bad case of diarrhea and couldn’t go out on patrol.”
Gross, but it happens.
“His buddy offered to take his patrol to allow Grayson to stay in the vicinity of a toilet.”
This all sounds pretty tame thus far. What’s the big secret? I don’t show my impatience, though. Wally is obviously building up to the grand reveal.
“The Humvee his buddy was in hit an IED and everyone in the vehicle was killed.”
I gasp. What a total bitch I am. I was practically rubbing my hands in excitement to hear the story. There’s nothing exciting about this. No, it’s tragic.
“Grayson’s buddy was married, and his wife had just given birth to a baby boy.”
My eyes well up with tears, but I fast blink to stop them from falling. Once I’m convinced I have control over my tear ducts, I speak. “It’s a tragic story, but I’m unsure what this has to do with how Grayson is acting.”
“Grayson blames himself. He’s the one who should have died not his buddy.”
“I call bullshit! He’s not god. He doesn’t decide who lives or dies. Who knows what would have happened if he went out on patrol? Maybe they would have taken a different route or maybe they would have hit a rock and driven around the IED.”
Obviously, I have no idea what I’m talking about.