Page 113 of Crossfire

All I could manage to say was, “It’s not your fault.”

Yet, even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were inadequate, incapable of penetrating the shield of blame she had built around herself, and as I gently wiped away her tears with my thumb, it struck me, how guilt was its own kind of disease, infecting people and everything that once mattered to you, until the only thing that was left was the reflection of a monster when you looked in the mirror.

Ivy and I, as it turned out, had that in common. But that’s where we were different. She was soft and gentle and kind while I was hardened and sharp around every edge.

Killing violent psychopaths had been my coping mechanism, but now, I would give anything to absorb her pain, shouldering her anguish myself.

“Who would use that against me?” Ivy wondered aloud. “I mean, of all the ways that guy could’ve tricked me into coming to the garage, why did he use my relationship with my dad like that? He weaponized my grief and pretended to know him.”

I clenched my teeth, a surge of anger rushing through my veins.

“It just seems particularly cruel, you know?”

Until this very moment, I hadn’t fully appreciated the psychological toll the entire situation with Bob had taken on Ivy. Someone hadn’t just tried to kill her; they had delved into the deepest recesses of her mind, exploiting her most vulnerable wounds.

So help me, if I ever find the person responsible, they will suffer the consequences of their cruelty so painfully, they’ll beg for death until I finally grant it to them.

I couldn’t believe I had almost taken her life, and now, she was becoming my world. Ivy was an enigma, a beautiful contradiction who possessed a strength that could move mountains, yet in my arms, she melted like snow in the sun. Her vulnerability, her trust in me, was a gift I never thought I’d receive.

I had never opened up to anyone the way I did with her either, never allowed myself to be so raw and exposed.

But with Ivy, it felt right.

Like coming home.

I pulled her closer, my lips grazing the top of her head, and as I breathed in her scent, I knew that my life had been irrevocablychanged. Ivy had become a part of me, woven into the very fabric of my being. She had brought light into my darkness, and I would do everything in my power to keep that light shining. Forever.

And I would protect her with everything I had.

Because it wasn’t just her future hanging in the balance anymore; it was my own, and I would not rest until this entire mess with the CIA was officially cleaned up.

A sound interrupted my thoughts. My cell phone buzzing on the end table. When I read the message, I tried to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to betray the sudden surge of panic.

Daniel: Check your encrypted email account and call me right away.

50

IVY

“Ivy, where are you?” Detective Mitchell’s voice was strained through my phone.

I paced in the living room while Grayson’s muffled voice drifted through the closed office door as he dealt with his own call.

My stomach churned with guilt and apprehension. Grayson would be furious when he discovered I’d fished my cell from his bag and powered it on. I’d just wanted to see if my mom had tried to contact me, and something told me he would have said no, so it was a sudden now-or-never situation. She and I spoke every day, and sometimes, she even popped by unannounced, so after the whole garage incident, if she’d checked up on me and I’d gone MIA, she might go to the cops or something. So, yeah, my intentions had been in the right place.

But my instincts? Had a spasm. When the cell buzzed in my hand, I’d panicked that Grayson would hear it. Retrieving my cell probably violated the terms of this hostage/romantic/captor whatever this was, so in a fluster to silence it, I’d hit the Answer button. Then realized what I’d done—hello, Grayson had probably powered down the cell phone for a reason—and discovered the person calling was Detective Mitchell.

Hanging up would probably be like calling 911, right? So, what was a girl to do?

After muttering internal curse words, I’d quickly answered, intending to hurry him off the phone, so I could check for any trace of contact from my mom and put my cell back before Grayson was the wiser.

“I’m out of town. Why?”

He sighed, the sound laden with unspoken worry. “I stopped by today…”

Well, that could have been interesting if I had still been there, tied up with Grayson holding me hostage…

“Is everything okay?”