It wasn’t until Gray moved in that Darius even learned what fitted sheets were.
He was an animal. One who didn’t care about thread count either.
Turning his attention back to the TV, Gray polished off the rest of his soup and wiped up the last drops with a piece of bread. “I’ll say it again—if a soup could be intelligent, this one takes the prize.” He’d never had a meal that smelled so foul in the making, thus lowering the expectations to a minimum, only to blow your mind when you tasted it. It was fucking incredible. Every ingredient blended together perfectly while still standing on its own. From the potatoes and leeks to the crab and two types of fish. And the broth—holy hell, the broth. “I bet Darius would love to put it on the menu at the restaurant.”
Niko smiled a little. “He’s more than welcome to. Sergio would be the right chef for it, too.”
Gray agreed. Sergio was fantastic, and he knew Eastern European cooking already, even though he had been born and raised in Seattle. His grandparents, on the other hand, had come here from…Gray wanted to say Poland and Romania.
“You were born here, right?” he asked curiously.
Niko nodded. “Yes. My dad was American. Mom was born in Russia but came here when she was like, I don’t know, three or something.”
Gray opened his mouth to ask a follow-up, but the news segment starting on the TV captured their attention as soon as a picture of Cole popped up on the screen. It looked like a school photo.
Gray swallowed dryly and couldn’t look away. The news reporter was talking, and all he got was that Cole had issued a written statement through his contact person at the FBI. The reporter read from it, Gray gathered, so he did his best to concentrate on the words.
“We ask for privacy, nothing else. There are thousands of us out there, but I only speak for myself and a few of those I formed friendships with in captivity.”
“Holy shit,” Niko mumbled.
“I understand human curiosity and how we’re sometimes drawn to car crashes and crime scenes, but it’s disrespectful to come up to us in the store or when we’re at a restaurant having dinner with our families. As our identities are slowly revealed, we get constant reminders of an already unforgettable period of horror. Please leave us alone. I, personally, have no issue telling you people off, but I’ve met others who suffered in ways I can’t even describe, and it infuriates me when I hear of journalists and others who ‘just have a quick question’ or ‘just wanted to say I’m glad you made it back alive.’ I don’t want the road to hell to be paved with good intentions, so please back off. Because PTSD doesn’t take a break to satisfy your curiosity. There are no circumstances under which you can walk up to us without risking a setback in our recovery. Is your curiosity worth that? Is your quest for answers to feed the world more important than preventing a panic attack?”
“Hot fucking damn,” Gray muttered.
“There you have it,” the reporter said. “Another survivor putting their foot down. We here at—”
Gray tuned her out, more specifically her speech on how the reporters at her network would never do such a thing as invade someone’s privacy, and he pulled out his phone to text Cole in their group chat.
He quickly noticed he wasn’t the first one. Apparently, Cole’s statement had been airing since at least noontime today, because that was when Tai sent his gratitude to Cole in the chat.
Gray added his own.
Cole! Just saw the segment. That was fucking amazing, buddy. I hope we can meet up soon—or at the very least, have a virtual drink together again.
He smiled when he saw Charlie’s instant reply.
Last time was so fun! Please give me a heads-up so I don’t miss out.
It felt good to see him in higher spirits. He’d come a long way in just the last few months. He was venturing outside again, he slept much better, and he was going back to college next year. And he wasn’t the only one making strides forward. Fil had gotten his GED and landed his first job. Cole had met someone, interestingly enough, a guy who also worked at the family ranch.
Not all the guys were active in the chat, but they’d agreed that for the first two years, everyone would at least check in from time to time, and it was a relief every time Gray got a message from those who weren’t online often. Jackie, for instance, wasn’t very fond of the group chat but stayed in touch through Facebook. He and his family were currently house hunting on the East Coast after his dad had gotten a better job there. And Jackie was looking forward to a fresh start.