Safe Hands

69. Everyone is GUILTY!

The house was a mess—not in the traditional sense with items scattered across the floor or dishes left unwashed—but a quiet, suffocating chaos. The kind of chaos that crept in when something was terribly wrong but no one knew what to do about it. Julian knew he shouldn't have left Grayson that night. He knew running away had been a mistake. And now, it was two days later, and Grayson was still gone.

It was all Julian could think about. He couldn't close his eyes at night without seeing Grayson standing there, hands cold and trembling in that dark street. He replayed it over and over, trying to imagine what would've happened if he had stayed. Maybe it would've been different. Maybe Grayson wouldn't have vanished.

The worst part was the lying. Rosa had asked where Grayson was when Julian walked through the front door that night, and he had lied—said he was with friends, old friends. But Grayson hadn't come home, and when morning came, the worry in Julian's gut turned into full-blown panic.

Now, Alex was pacing around the house, his phone glued to his ear, trying to reach his contacts who could help track Grayson. Julian sat in Grayson's room, his head buried in his hands, the guilt weighing him down like a thousand-pound anchor.

"You told them everything, right?" Russell's voice broke the silence. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to act casual, but his eyes betrayed him. They were filled with worry. Guilt.

Julian looked up, his face pale and drawn. "Yeah... I told them about the guy, about what Grayson said. But they don't know anything. They don't care. They think he's just run off again."

"They're wrong," Russell muttered under his breath, pushing off the doorframe. "Grayson doesn't just disappear for days."

Alex had come home that morning, asking the same questions: Where was Grayson? Why didn't he come back? The panic in his voice had only fueled Julian's guilt. He had told his dad everything, the story tumbling out in pieces. Grayson had said they were friends, old friends. But Julian knew in his gut that wasn't true. The look in Grayson's eyes when he had pushed him to run—it wasn't the look of someone reuniting with friends. It was fear. Real, bone-deep fear. That Grayson never displays.

Alex tried calling Grayson's phone, but they had found it in his bag—the same bag Julian had brought home. Grayson's phone was useless now, and so were the police, who didn't consider a missing teen with a history of running away much of a priority.

Hours turned into days, and the house became a place of tension. Julian knew Grayson was in trouble. Deep trouble. The fight Russell and Grayson had that night still echoed in everyone's mind, even Russell's. He had gotten scolded, sure, but that wasn't enough to erase the guilt he carried for leaving Grayson behind.

Damien had joined in on the search, his face a stony mask of worry. He didn't show it much, but the concern was written all over him, especially when he learned Grayson hadn't been seen since that night. Even if Grayson had a history of sneaking off, this felt different. They all knew it.

Julian's phone buzzed, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He glanced at the screen—Milo and Savanna were outside.

"They're here," he muttered, wiping at his face as he stood up, his legs shaky. Russell followed him to the door, where they found Milo and Savanna standing with matching expressions of concern.

"Any news?" Savanna asked, her voice tense. Her hair was pulled in a puffy ponytail.

Julian shook his head. "Nothing."

Savanna's face fell, then she turned to Russell. "How could you fight with him that night?" she snapped. "What did you think would happen?"

Russell sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not like I meant to, okay? We were just... he was doing his thing again."

Savanna stepped forward, her blue eyes blazing. "Yeah, well, now he's gone, and we have no idea where he is! What if—"

"Stop it!" Julian shouted, his voice cracking. He stepped between them, hands raised. "This isn't anyone's fault. It's... it's mine. I shouldn't have left him. I should've stayed." He lowered his arms, his head hanging low. "He said they were friends, but I knew it wasn't true. I just knew."

Savanna and Milo exchanged a glance, their concern deepening. "What kind of friends?" Milo asked.

Julian swallowed, his throat dry. "I didn't know the guy, but he way older and dangerous. Grayson... he wasn't himself. And now, he's gone."

A heavy silence filled the air, pressing down on all of them. Even Russell, who usually brushed things off with a casual attitude, was quiet now. The weight of his actions sat heavily on his chest.

Russell ran a hand through his dusty blond hair, looking troubled. "I didn't mean to fight with him," he admitted quietly, his voice rough. "But I can't take it back."

Savanna's expression softened, but the worry didn't leave her eyes. "We have to figure this out," she said. "We can't just sit here and do nothing."

"I've tried," Julian whispered. "I've told the police everything. But... nothing. No one knows anything."

Before anyone could respond, they heard Damien's voice, booming from the other room. He was on the phone again, his tone rough and strained. "What do you mean no leads? You've got nothing?" There was a pause, then a loud curse. "Damn it!"

Julian flinched at the sound of his uncle's frustration. The weight of everything—Grayson's disappearance, the fight, the lies—it was all becoming too much. He couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears welled up in his eyes, and this time, he couldn't stop them from falling. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands.

"I should've stayed," Julian sobbed, his shoulders shaking. "It's my fault. I should've stayed with him."

Savanna knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Julian, it's not your fault," she whispered. "We'll find him. We'll find him, I promise."

Even Russell, who had been standing off to the side, seemed affected. His face pale, his jaw clenched. He wasn't sure what to say, and for once, words failed him. All he could do was watch as Julian broke down, guilt and fear written across his face.

Milo sat beside Julian, placing a hand on his shoulder in silent support. They were all scared—terrified of what could've happened, of what was happening right now. Somewhere out there, Grayson was alone, and they had no idea how to bring him back.

The sound of Damien's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway as he stormed into the room, his face plain and drawn. His usual composure was gone, replaced by something none of them had seen before—fear.

"They have no leads," Damien said to Alex who was in the living room, his voice low. "Nothing."

Julian lifted his head, his tear-streaked face pale. "They're not looking for him, are they?"

Damien didn't respond, but the look in his eyes said it all.

They were running out of time.