Crank (The Gibson Boys 1)

The tears fall as I think back to twenty-four hours ago and the way Walker held me while he slept. Was all that fake? Did he not believe any of the things he said or mean any of the ways he made me feel?

Why would he do this to me?

A little alarm clock sits by the bed, the red numbering glowing in my face. I lift my phone and press the power button, only to see more texts and phone calls than I can count.

Scrolling through my contacts list, I find the only person who I know will be up at one in the morning and not livid I call. It rings twice.

“Sienna?” Graham’s voice is full of concern and that only makes the tears fall again. “Sienna? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Graham . . .” I laugh through the tears, a little sister calling her big brother for help in the middle of the night. How pathetic can one person be in one day?

“What the hell is happening up there?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He laughs. “We both know that’s highly unlikely.”

“Definitely unlikely.” Lincoln’s voice comes on the phone as I hear the speakerphone pick up. “What’s up, Sienna?”

“Why are the two of you together at one in the morning? Don’t tell me Mallory and Danielle kicked you out.”

“We had a meeting in Atlanta and were supposed to stay the night but decided to come home,” Graham explains. “Lincoln was just dropping me off.”

“You let him drive?”

“Not my best choice, but yes,” Graham sighs.

“I got us home in about half the time it would’ve taken you,” Lincoln points out. “Stop complaining.”

“Anyway,” Graham cuts in, “what’s up with you? Are you crying?”

“A boy . . .” My voice breaks and I can almost hear my brothers flinch.

“We can be there in a few hours,” Lincoln says flatly. “Want me to bring Dominic?”

“No,” I laugh through the tears. “You don’t need to bring Cam’s fighter boyfriend.”

“So I can take him on my own?”

“Lincoln, stop,” I sigh. “I need logical help here, G.”

“I have you,” Graham says calmly. “Shoot.”

Taking a deep breath, I go for it. “I’ve been seeing a guy for a while. We’ve had fun—”

“We don’t need this part,” Lincoln interjects.

“We’ve seen each other pretty regularly,” I continue. “Every day, really. He’s been totally into me, taking me to hang out with his family, I’ve met his grandmother, and all that. And then I find out tonight that he’s married.”

“What the hell?” Graham barks. “He’s married?”

“Yup.”

“I’m gonna beat his face in,” Lincoln seethes.

“Shut up, Lincoln,” Graham says, his wheels turning. “Did you know this? No, of course you didn’t,” he grumbles. “Why didn’t he tell you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did his family know?”

“I guess. I don’t really know. Some of them did.” I look at the popcorn ceiling and can’t even find it in me to want to scrape it off like I usually do. “Why would he do this to me?”

“That’s a question you’ll have to ask him,” Graham says. “If you want to, that is.”

Lincoln goes on a rant about how they should come to Illinois and teach him a lesson, Graham firing back that they have to think things through. That they have families now and can’t go all crazy like they used to.

I listen to them banter, my mind going to Machlan and Lance. I find myself smiling and then realize they knew too. And not one of them told me.

“Sienna?” Graham asks.

“Yeah?”

“If you weren’t pissed, I’d be pissed at you,” he says. “But I think you need to give the guy a chance to explain.”

“He was married!” Lincoln roars. “Fuck him.”

“I’m with Linc.”

“Both of you clowns better listen to me,” Graham says. “Sienna has never once asked me for advice over a man. She’s never called me crying, except for the time she ran over the kitten on Santa Monica Boulevard.”

“Oh, don’t bring that up,” I say, trying not to cry again.

“The point is,” Graham continues, “I can tell you care about this guy a lot. So even though he’s guaranteed a few head cracks the first time we see him, if we ever do, and more than that if we tell Ford, you need to hear him out. For him, and more importantly, for you.”

“You think so?” I ask.

“I know so. Do you remember what a mess Mallory was when I first met her?” Graham chuckles through the line. “She smelled like bacon every morning. Her desk was a disaster. She went on a date once just to make me jealous.”

“I knew I loved her,” I tease.

“But if I had written her off without giving her a chance, look what I’d have missed out on. Maybe you let the guy go. Maybe you give him another chance. Maybe you come home and get your ass to work for me,” he cracks, getting that little slip in. “But get the facts together before you go making decisions. Be smart, Sienna.”