Page 104 of Crossfire
As I absorbed Grayson’s haunting past, my chest tightened. In my mind’s eye, I could see the shadow of a young boy, face hollow with sorrow, standing beside a small, flower-covered grave. The magnitude of his loss looming in the air.
Years later, that same boy, now a man, stood tall and resolute, his features burning with a fierce determination. His once-fragile frame now exuded strength, shaped by the pain he had endured. He moved with purpose, every action a testament to his commitment to protect the innocent, his past fueling his present with a relentless drive.
My heart swelled with a profound mix of sorrow and admiration for the journey he had undertaken.
Grayson’s stormy eyes met mine, and in that charged moment, the air seemed to crackle with electricity.
I suddenly realized how deeply this scarred, complicated man had tunneled his way into my chest. That despite his dark past, or perhaps because of it…I was falling for Grayson.
And that terrified me more than any threat I had ever faced.
47
GRAYSON
Ivy’s face slowly crumbled, her features contorting into a grimace. She tore her gaze away from mine, her attention dropping to her hands, which now fidgeted restlessly in her lap. Suffocating silence expanded between us as she retreated into her thoughts.
My ribs squeezed tighter, a sinking feeling settling in my gut. Had I shared too much? Did she see me as a monster, a creature unworthy of her trust and affection?
Evidently, the answer was yes, because she abruptly stood up and declared, “I need some fresh air.”
Just moments ago, we had been connected, our souls laid bare before each other. But now, an icy distance grew between us, a palpable shift that made my skin prickle with unease.
Refusing to make eye contact, she wrapped her arms around her stomach to close herself off even more.
“Is it safe?”
Finally, her eyes found mine, but the warmth I had seen earlier was gone, replaced by a guarded, almost-fearful expression.
“To walk outside—is it safe?” she repeated.
“What’s wrong?” I pressed, rising to my feet and taking a step toward her.
“Nothing,” she insisted, but her tone was sharp, defensive. “I need some fresh air.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Ivy, talk to me. What’s going on?”
She shook her head, backing away from me. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t.”
Before I could respond, she turned and bolted for the door, yanking it open with the harsh creak of hinges echoing in the empty space as she disappeared into the woods.
48
IVY
Okay, that was it. My morals officially needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. They had been dying a slow death, wading into the water of not being repulsed by a hit man, but after hearing Grayson’s explanation? They did a full-on cannonball into finding him admirable.
Which was certifiable. You cannot justify murder. No matter what.
And, sure, I guess it wasn’t murder. That wasn’t a fair term. Assassination. Government-sanctioned assassinations, to be exact, and many men and women ended lives of enemies in wars. I didn’t seethemas monsters, but rather heroes, so why was I being this hard on Grayson?
See? There I go, chest deep in the water.
But then you add to that the reason he wanted to kill bad guys? Kaboom. My heart became a runaway horse, and I needed to rein it in.
I could not have these feelings for Grayson. I was a nurse, dedicating my life to saving people, while he dedicated his life to ending them.
I mean, my God, I wonder how many people he had killed?