Page 135 of Crossfire
Sometimes, reality could be an asshole, its icy grip squeezing the hope from my heart. I knew Ivy was innocent—I could feel it in my soul—but Hunter’s question echoed the ones slamming around in my skull like a relentless thunderstorm.
What if I couldn’t prove it?
What if I couldn’t save her?
58
GRAYSON
“Wait.” Hunter’s voice was low and firm, making me stop in my tracks.
I turned back around, studying my brother’s serious expression.
“I have one more question before you go.”
He took a sip of his scotch, shoving his left hand into his pocket as he watched the last light of the setting sun dip over his estate through the window.
“You said Ivy’s your girlfriend?” Hunter pivoted his head toward me, arching a brow.
A surge of warmth filled my chest at the thought of her, followed quickly by a chilling fear of losing her.
I looked down at the tendrils of liquid swirling around the ice cubes, which stubbornly refused to melt quickly. Bringing the glass to my lips, I inhaled the rich aroma of aged oak and subtle hints of vanilla, which coated my tongue with its smooth, silky texture. The initial sweetness gave way to a warm, smoky flavor that lingered in the back of my throat, and the complex blend of flavors—caramel, honey, and a touch of spice—became a welcome distraction from Hunter’s implied question.
“Evidently, I used the term too soon,” I admitted.
“Should have allowed more time to pass after you abducted her and held her hostage?”
I shot anot funny, Hunterglare at him.
“You’ve never called anyone that before.” Hunter studied my face with a blend of curiosity and, dare I say, hope.
I said nothing.
“You like her,” Hunter continued. “A lot.”
Something that felt like barbed wire wrapped around the inside of my chest.
“Maybe I shouldn’t.” I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the glass.
I had always prided myself on being in control, my feelings carefully guarded and managed. But with her, it was different. She had a profound effect on me, and I had lost my grip on reason and surrendered to feelings—feelings that were foreign and untested. Like a helpless balloon caught in the wind, I allowed myself to get carried away with the magnetic pull she had on my soul.
Maybe I should have held on to the string more tightly, guiding my emotions with a steady hand, because as much as I cared for Ivy, there was a reason I actively prevented a connection with another human being.
“Remember that conversation you had with me?” Hunter looked back out over the estate. “When I was holding back from Luna?”
“That feels like a lifetime ago.”
“You told me to let go of the past, to not let Dad’s murder prevent me from having a future with Luna.”
“That was different.” I swirled my ice cubes in my glass.
“Was it?” His stare intensified. “Or are you just telling yourself that because it’s easier than facing the truth? You’re letting Dad’s death stop you from having a future.”
“I dealt with my guilt.” For having not said anything about the man in the woods, but the harder thing to navigate was my anger—that a person like him hadn’t been stopped before it was too late.
“I know why you push everyone away,” Hunter said. “Why you never had friends. Never had a girlfriend. If we weren’t brothers, I’d probably never see you.”
I eyed him, silently begging him to get to the point.