Smoke & Gasoline

Betrayed

***** GORE WARNING*****

Grayson woke up with a startle. His heart rate instantly picking up pace at the sound of gunshots coming from down stairs. Glancing to the nightstand for some kind of a weapon he figures out two things. One, the glock that's normally kept next to the bed is gone. And two, Ethan is also gone. He quickly shuffles out of bed, only in his boxers, and nearly stumbles on his face from his feet getting caught in the comforter.

"Shit!" He curses.

More gun shots are being fired, one after the other echoing through the house at a fast pace. What the hell is going on? Where is Ethan? Is he down there? Is he okay? What if he is hurt? All these questions make Grayson's movements become frantic. He is searching through the dresser drawers, cabinets in the bathroom, in the shoes in the closet, nothing! No guns anywhere to be seen!

"What the fuck Ethan!" He growls gripping his messy bed head hair with a fist. His whole body feels jittery from adrenaline. It sounds like world war two down stairs and he can't do anything about it because Ethan (hopefully) has the only gun that was in the room. His eyes spot a pocket knife poking out of Ethan's skinny jeans that he left on the floor from two nights ago and for once Grayson is thankful Ethan is a fucking pig. He quickly retrieves the shiny object and makes his way out of the bedroom, completely forgetting to put any clothes on.

Dead bodies linger all over the floor and it is then that Grayson also realizes he came out of the room with no plan whatsoever. A wave of nausea rushes through his body as he really takes in the scene going on in front of him.

He doesn't recognize any of the bodies, mostly because their faces are to blown through to be recognizable. Pools of blood cover the once white floor, and it runs down like stairs like a waterfall leading to the source of the gunfire.

Grayson holds back a gag when his bare feet pad down the staircase in the warm wet liquid. It's looks like a fucking massacre happened in here! It's even worse downstairs then it is upstairs. The front door looks like it had been kicked in, bodies scattered everywhere. Grayson has to tiptoe his way around them and it was then that he had realized the shooting had stopped.

His ears ring, mostly from adrenaline, but also from all the previous gun shots that were blaring through the house.

"That wasn't the fucking plan Dolan!" A deep voice snarls coming from the kitchen.

Grayson stumbles his way through the living room, the knife from Ethan's pants held tight in his hand. He clenches his teeth when he sees Ethan in the arms of another man, gun pressed to his head.

He instantly gets a flashback of when he had first met Ethan, who was held at gunpoint on the floor. God, why are guns always pointed at him?

The man who held Ethan in a chokehold looked to be in his late twenties, he had gruff on his face and greasy black short hair and a slight pudgy belly, his voice is wrapsy so he must be a smoker. Grayson immediately decided he hated the man. Somehow the pair hadn't noticed him yet, so decided to use that to his advantage. "You knew what you were supposed to do, and yet you fucked it up somehow!"

He finally realises what is going on. This man is apart of the gang Jack was in. Ethan was saying a while back that they'd have to deal with them at some point. How did the find the house? Does Ethan just walk around giving his address to people or something? Nah, he can't be that dumb, right?

For the first time, Grayson swears he can see a slight hint a fear in Ethan's cold hazel eyes before he finally notices Grayson is standing there in the archway to the kitchen. His eyes widen a fracture, before turning into a glare, he then notices the knife in Grayson's hand and sighs in frustration. What is his deal?