Chapter 206

Grayson POV

“Didn’t you say you guys had Texas Roadhouse for Thanksgiving dinner yesterday?” I ask as King drops four oversized brown takeout bags in the backseat.

He climbs into the driver’s seat like his spine’s made of steel, his whole body wound tight.

The man’s a walking live wire.

It’s written all over him—he hates being away from Alyssa. But Niko and Mason thought it might do him some good to get out of the room. He hasn’t eaten. Hasn’t slept. And that scar of his hasn’t stopped twitching all day.

I volunteered to tag along.

Not because I needed the company. Honestly? I just didn’t trust the crazy motherfucker not to kill someone over forgotten cinnamon butter.

“She’s been eatin’ these rolls like they’re goin’ outta style,” he mutters, adjusting the rearview mirror like it did him dirty. “Figured if she can’t eat much when she wakes up, she can at least nibble on them.”

The silence that follows isn’t comfortable.