Chapter 12
Grayson
I needed to get out of here.
I needed to get as far away from her as possible, before I did something dangerous and very very stupid.
Everything I assumed about my mark was wrong.
Now, she was standing before me wanting to know my name.
She could never know my name. She could never know anything about me. If I gave her my name, I’d be a fool. If a gave her my name, she would have a piece of me.
She could never have any part of me.
I needed to let her go.
“W-what?” she stammered, her baby blue eyes wide and shining with the tears I’d caused.
If I looked at them for one more second, I was going to shoot myself in the fucking foot.
She had so much fucking power over me.
She didn’t realize it, and I didn’t understand it.
No person, let alone a fucking woman, had ever affected me this much.
Women were important to the world, to be sure, but they weren’t important to me—not like that, anyways. I didn’t have time for them and the thought of a relationship made me want to jump on a grenade. I’d never been good at relationships. The last woman I’d committed to told me I was a lost cause, addicted to Red Snake Investigations and nothing more. She blamed me for wasting a year of her life. She was waiting for a ring, and I never planned on giving her one.
Now, the only time I’d spent with a woman was usually in her bed, and she’d be too busy screaming for me to even think about a fucking relationship. I’d get off, she’d get off multiple times, and then we’d go our separate ways. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“You aren’t making me leave?”
Hale’s sweet voice brought me out of my thoughts, and my gut clenched at the sight of yet another tear rolling down her cheek. She needed to stop fucking crying before I lost my ever-loving mind.
Pretty sure you’ve already lost it, asshole.
My jaw tightened as I looked away from her, my eyes going to the back door in her kitchen. She needed a new lock on that door, then another added to the front door, a chain, not to fucking mention a security system.
“I’m going to call my client and tell him you’re okay,” I explained, trying to think about how I could set this house up to where she’d be safe from any harm instead of looking at her beautiful, goddess-like face again.
Not to mention her fucking body.
From the second she walked inside the house, I’d been fighting my restraint, something dark and primal scratching beneath the surface, ready to be released—on her.
Before she was widow, she was skin and bone—borderline unhealthy—and now…now, she had curves that bounced when she walked, a little bit extra for a man like me to hold onto when I fucked her into her mattress, her screams muffled by the pillow. Her mid-section was soft, feminine, while her hips were wide, her legs strong, and her fucking chest…
Carrie Hale made my goddamn mouth water, and that was a fucking problem. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a woman so fucking stunning. Her beauty was endless, and I was fucking downing in it.
“Who hired you?” she asked, her soft voice pulling from my sinful thoughts.
I was surprised she hadn’t guessed it yet, but given the man her father was, and the note she’d received, it made sense that the street racers weren’t at the forefront of her mind. Like she said in her journal, she was trying to forget that part of her life—the good and the bad.
My eyes meet hers once more as I clenched my jaw, wanting this to be over. “Jeremy Jones.”
She jerked back, eyes wide. “Jer?”
“Your friends were worried about you, and Jeremy called me the night you disappeared,” I told her, giving her more than I should’ve.
She stumbled back, shaking her head. “That doesn’t make any sense…”
My brows came together.
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
Just get your shit and leave, Grayson.
“Why not?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
I watched as a new emotion flashed in her eyes—guilt. She looked down to her feet and tightened her arms around herself, and suddenly, all I wanted was to hold her, to know what she would feel like in my arms.
“I haven’t been a very good friend to them over the last few years,” she explained, looking back up at me and then towards the window again. “When I married Robert, he made it seem like he wanted me all to himself.”
Every muscle in my body tightened at the mention of her dead husband and reality splashed over me like ice cold rain, snapping me out of my whatever the fuck it was towards her. I waited for her to continue, not bothering to respond.
“Now, I’m starting to realize a lot of things,” she mumbled, almost to herself. “He didn’t want me to himself. He wanted me away from my friends. Because of my father.” Her eyes met mine once more. “I assume you know about my father?”
I nodded. Mayor Gelling was the worst kind of monster—the wolf in sheep’s clothing.
She shook her head, laughing quietly. “Great,” she muttered, shame lacing her voice.
My brows came together once more as I ticked my head to the side. “You aren’t your father,” I told her without a second thought. “What he did had nothing to do with you, you understand?”
She had to understand. She was innocent in all of this, blindsided by tragedy and then slammed with the horror-filled news about her father after his arrest. In her file, it was noted that she wasn’t told about her father until halfway through his trial.
“You don’t understand,” she said, a sense of urgency in her voice. “You’ll never understand.” Her plump, pink bottom lip began to tremble. “I can’t go back there. You have to tell Jer that. He has to understand.”
The last thing I wanted was to be her messenger boy. “You tell him that yourself,” I said, my voice level now.
She shook her head. “I can’t talk to them again.”
“Why the fuck not?” I clipped.
She didn’t flinch at my harshness, only blinking once. “Because when I left St. Louis, I left everything and everyone in it behind. I want nothing to do with that city.”
The feeling was mutual.
I sighed through my nose. “He said you’re family to him.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m not. I don’t belong in that family, no matter how much I wanted to, I never belonged there.”
Wanted. Past tense.
We held each other’s gaze, time fading around us, just like it had out by the docks.
All at once, I was sucked into her blue eyes, and I felt like I was flying. She took a step towards me, and that cold splash of reality was beginning to warm. Then, she was close to me again, her breasts threatening to brush against me with each breath. Her snow-blonde curls fell back as she tilted her head back to look at me. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes puffy, her neck was splotched with pink, her eyelashes wet with tears, and yet?
I was trapped, unable to move—possessed by her beauty.
“Can I ask you something?” she whispered, her voice husky.
My cock twitched.
Fuck.
Jaw tight, I gave her a single nod, knowing damn well I was in dangerous waters.
“Do you blame me for running away?”
“No,” I said instantly. I didn’t blame her when Jer called. I didn’t blame her when I got her files. I didn’t blame her when I searched her old house. I didn’t blame her when I watched the airport footage.
How could I blame someone from running away when that was all I knew?
I’d been running since I’d gotten out of the Marines, chasing a ghost I knew I’d never find.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Her voice was unsteady now.
I bent my neck, getting close to her face again, her berry scent overwhelming me. “I’m going to need you to step back now,” I told her, my voice thick with need.
“Okay,” she whispered, stretching her neck, her lips an inch from mine now. My eyes dropped, taking them in.
I wanted to taste her.
I wanted to consume her.
I wanted to ruin her.
“Bounty hunter,” she murmured.
My eyes snapped back up to hers.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my cock straining in my pants, and my head was swimming. This woman was something I couldn’t comprehend.
What the fuck was she doing to me?
My restraint was about to snap, but with the last ounce of willpower I had, I rose back up to my full height and took a step back. At the flash of hurt in her eyes, my gut tightened painfully and I wondered what was the bigger mistake; backing away or giving in?
“I’ll tell Mr. Jones,” I said firmly. “I apologize for scaring you.”
She cleared her throat, nodding quickly as she snapped out of it. “You didn’t scare me, but I appreciate the apology.”
The question about the note she’d found on her door was on the tip of my tongue, but I decided against it. She didn’t need to know I read through her journal. I’d already fucked her life up enough. I wasn’t about to make her cry again.
I’d rather burn in hell for an eternity than see another tear fall from her eyes caused by me.
I pulled out my phone, dialed Jer, and looked at her one last time, taking in her beauty before I walked out of her life forever. He answered on the second ring and heard engines rumbling in the background. He was at Oasis tonight.
I held her eyes as I said, “Deal’s off, Jones. I won’t be bringing in Hale.”
A small whimper left her as a hand snapped over her mouth.
“Come again?” Jeremy asked, his voice lethal.
“Hale has been located. She’s safe. She’s settled. I won’t be bringing her back to St. Louis. If and when she wants to go back there, she’ll do it of her own accord,” I explained.
He was quiet for a moment, and I heard a door close in the background. “She’s okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Settled?” he pressed, repeating me.
“Settled,” I confirmed.
Another pause, and then, “Where?”
“I’m not telling you that, Jones. That’s not my business to share,” I told him, watching as her fingers fell from her lips.
“You’ve talked to her, I guess?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s…?” His question trailed off, but I knew what he was asking.
Holding her eyes, I said, “She’s perfect.”
Her lips parted as Jer sighed in my ear, muttering to the Big Man upstairs. A second later, he said, “The money is in your account.”
“Not necessary,” I shot back.
“I hired you to find her, and you did just that,” he told me, sounding tired. “Thank you, Grayson.”
I ended the call, tucking the phone back into my pocket as she continued to stare at me. “Thank you, bounty hunter,” she whispered.
My heart seized inside my chest, hating that she didn’t know my name.
She could never know my name.
“Lock your doors every night,” I told her, breaking our gaze and heading to the front door. Once my hand was on the doorknob, she called out for me.
“So that’s it?” she asked.
I couldn’t look at her. If I did, I’d become a different man, and that kind of man didn’t deserve to exist, not in this world.
“That’s it,” I confirmed.
Then, I was gone.
Twelve hours later. Red Snake Investigations. Charlotte, NC.
“You keep lingering in my fucking doorway, I’m going to fucking shoot you,” I bit out through clenched teeth, my fist resting on top of my desk. My eyes lifted to Hayes to find his jaw tight, arms folded over his chest, shoulder against the door jam. He’d been there for some time, studying me without saying a fucking word. It was ten in the fucking morning, and I was still on edge.
“Shoot me and I’ll break your spine,” he returned calmly.
I didn’t have the time nor the patience for his fucking shit today. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I asked, “The fuck do you want, Mitchell?”
I heard movement, followed by his boots hitting my office floor, getting closer and closer until he stopped in front of my desk. Inhaling a deep breath through my nose, I leaned back in my chair, looking up at him. He braced his hands on the edge of the desk, leaning down as his brow furrowed. “I want to make sure my fucking friend is okay, Gray. That alright with you?”
His words slammed into me, causing me to grind my molars. “I’m fine,” I pushed out.
“Really?” he shot back. “Because instead of going straight to your place after a mission, you came here, looking for something else to hunt.”
“Your point?” I drawled.
Hayes shook his head, a lock of his sandy blond hair coming to the front of his forehead as his green eyes hardened. “Go home. Get some rest.”
“I’m fine,” I said, waving him off.
“Go home, or I’m breaking your jaw,” he threatened.
My eyes snapped up to his. “Don’t make threats you can’t fulfill, Hayes,” I warned.
“Enough.”
Both our heads snapped to the doorway to find Dominic.
He pointed at me. “Boss, you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week. Go home. Clock in at least six hours before coming back here, yeah? We have shit to do and we need you on top of things,” he clipped before looking at Hayes. “Stop being a dick just because of the Veronica shit.”
I quirked a brow. “The Veronica shit?”
Veronica was the woman Hayes had been dating for the last year, and she just moved into his place two months ago.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hayes said, his voice hard as Dominic replied at the same time with, “She slept with someone else.”
I turned back to my friend, a new kind of anger forming. “She what?” I barked.
Hayes’ head snapped to me. “Don’t fucking worry about it. It’s over. Done.” With that, he walked out of the office, not bothering to look at Dominic on the way out.
Dominic’s dark blue eyes met mine. “You sure you’re alright?” he pressed.
I nodded.
When I’d gotten back, I debriefed the team, telling them Carrie Hale was no longer our problem. I didn’t tell them about the tension between us, or the fact that I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since I closed that red door behind me.
“You’re right,” I muttered. “I need some fucking sleep.”
Dominic’s lips twitched. He loved being right. “Then go get some. We have things handled here.”
I nodded, standing. “I need to talk to Hayes first.”
He shook his head. “He’ll be fine. Go home, boss.”
Twenty minutes later, I unlocked the door to my condo, dropped my bag by my feet, and headed to the bedroom. My eyes scanned over the plain furniture. The bed was made, just like I’d left it, and as I stared at it, I began to realize how colorless my condo was, especially in comparison to the home I’d broken into yesterday.
Walking into the bathroom, I stripped my clothes and stepped into the shower, turning on the water. As steam built up, the sting of the near-boiling water began to fade as I washed the last week and a half from my mind.
I closed my eyes, seeing flashes of blonde curls and blue eyes.
“Fuck,” I hissed as my cock hardened, jutting out from my hips. I thought of how sweet she smelled, how she wasn’t afraid of me, how she didn’t flinch at the sight of my scar. Most women did, but they quickly forgot about it the moment I had them in the bedroom.
A twist of guilt fluttered in my gut—I was comparing her to other women.
There was no comparison.
She had me wrapped around her finger, and I wasn’t even in her life, just a flicker of a moment passing through. She was trying to find her happiness, and I knew that would never include me. I should be fine with that. I should be over this— her —by now. Yet, here I was, with a fucking boner in my shower across the country from her.
The image of her lips flashed in my mind as I let out a grunt.
Damn it all to hell, I needed a fucking release.
Without a second thought, I wrapped my fist around my shaft, jacking myself for a moment. My hand went up, wrapping around my sensitive head, causing my hips to flex. I put my hand on the tile wall, the water hitting my back as I bent my head, watching my hand, desperate to come at the thought of her.
Growling, I worked myself harder, picturing her on her knees for me, her breasts bare and waiting for my cum to paint them. I wanted to drown her in me, coat her so no other man would want her. I wanted my skin on her skin.
She was my fucking territory.
I wanted to mark her, to claim her.
“Fucking hell, Carrie,” I groaned, imagining her opening that pretty mouth for me.
My hand moved faster and faster as heat built at the base of my spine, my balls tightening. “That’s it. Keep that mouth open for me,” I praised, my voice rough. She did as I asked, like the good girl she was. Then, to drive me even madder, she brought her hands up, her fingers pinching her nipples.
“So fucking beautiful,” I growled, my hips moving now. “Driving me insane.”
I fucked my hand at a ruthless pace, wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her wherever I could be. Her mouth, her wet little cunt, or her tight little asshole, I didn’t care.
I wanted to use her, stretch every hole she had and make her mine.
“Please. Please, Grayson,” she begged in my fantasy, her blue eyes shining.
The sound of my name on her lips did me in. I barked out a curse as my release shot out of me, painting the shower wall instead of her gorgeous face. “Carrie, Carrie, Carrie,” I chanted through the pleasure, tilting my head back. “Take it all. Please, baby. Take it all,” I groaned, squeezing the last drop onto the wall.
When it was over, I rested my head on my forearm, my body coming down from the high.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whispered.