Chapter 10
MACY
As I sit at the kitchen counter, preparing the report Grayson requested, the muted television bounces rainbows on my laptop screen.
Excluding Grayson occasionally moving around in the living room, it is quiet.
The tension is thick enough to cut, and the weight of Grayson’s disappointment hangs heavily on my shoulders.
I broke protocol, and now he’s giving me the silent treatment. It’s awkward, but I deserve it, so I won’t make him feel bad about his contradictory reply.
After taking a deep breath, I focus on the task at hand.
I need to write a detailed report on the operation that occurred tonight, covering all necessary details.
I can’t afford to miss anything. Samuel needs to go down for his part in the disrespect these victims faced both before and after their deaths, and I won’t let my bending of the rules jeopardize that.
My fingers fly over the keyboard, struggling to keep up as I recall every detail of the evening.
I describe the restaurant, transcribe my conversations with Samuel from the audio files, and remember the minutes leading to his arrest. No matter how small or insignificant it seems, I include everything in my reports, even the part where I threatened to castrate him, and the snivels he released when he believed every word I spoke.
I can’t afford to leave anything out.
Exhaustion sets in while I work. Though it’s been a long day and my body is begging for rest, I remain committed to completing my report.
I can’t let fatigue get in the way. This is too important. We are the only voice for these women—the only voice for my sister.
After checking that every i is dotted and every t is crossed on the transcribed manuscript, I glance at the clock, noting that it’s well past 2 a.m. Grayson hasn’t said a word to me since we got back, and his silence is deafening.
I understand why he’s angry, and I don’t blame him for his response.
I put myself in danger and skirted the truth after promising to always be honest. I should have trusted him as I did three years ago when I finally admitted that Agent Moses had assaulted me, but I was too afraid of what he might do.
Also, it’s hard to be truthful when you know the person you’re endeavoring to be honest with isn’t following the same logic.
Grayson isn’t lying to me, but he is keeping stuff from me.
To me, that’s just as bad.
When the black words on the white screen blur, I rub my eyes, fighting to push through the tiredness overwhelming me. I have to finish this report first, and then I will rest, but my body is betraying me.
Desperate, I guzzle down a mouthful of the ghastly tasting tea Grayson purchased for me earlier today while I summon the energy to keep going. It is more soothing to my body than revitalizing, and it makes my efforts to stay awake ten times worse.
The exhaustion is too much, and before I know it, I drift off to sleep with my head resting on my folded arms, and the compression of my wrists on the keyboard of my laptop making a mess of my report.
I don’t care that I’m undoing hours of hard work.
That’s how exhausted I am. I can’t lift my head for even a second.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when someone pulls me into their arms. While blinking groggily, I try to make sense of what’s happening.
I am unsure about the strange emotions bombarding me, but panic never engulfs me.
The scent of bottled cologne and the unique smell that belongs solely to its owner announce who is carrying me in their strong, comforting arms. Although I stupidly balked at him earlier, I will never experience genuine fear while in the vicinity of this man.
“Grayson…” My voice is still heavy with sleep, even though I’m trying to sound awake and lively. “I’m—”
“Shhh.” Despite the height of his taunt shoulders, his tone is gentle and nurturing. “Rest. Whatever you need to say can wait until the morning.”
I keep my eyes closed, too tired to argue, before I burrow my nose between his pecs.
As he walks us toward the only bedroom, I enjoy the warmth of his body heating my skin and the steady beat of his heart thudding against my ear. It’s comforting, and although I am sure it will lead to heartache, I let myself relax into his embrace.
He carries me into the room and then gently places me on the bed. When the bedding rustles under my backside, against the screaming protests of my thumping head, I open my eyes and look up at him.
I hate the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment. So much so that I blurt out two words I hadn’t planned to give him anytime within the next week. “I’m sorry.”
Though my voice is faint, Grayson still hears me. The high rise of his shoulders sinks, and the groove between his brows smooths a smidge.
His words are full of emotion when he unveils the actual cause of his fury. “You can’t do that again, Macy. You can’t put yourself in danger like that.”
There’s so much tension in the air, so many untapped feelings being exploited, I once again speak without thinking.
“I won’t do it again.” When air whizzes from Grayson’s nose, I sit up straight before adding words I know he won’t discount as easily.
“I promise I won’t.” I don’t issue promises I don’t plan to keep.
Ever. “But I also need you to stop treating me like I’m fragile.
” His lips twitch, but I beat him to the punch.
“I’m pregnant, Grayson. That doesn’t make me incompetent. ”
The room stays silent for a few uncomfortable seconds before I break it with a murmur. “I’m also an agent, a damn good agent, so you need to trust that I won’t take unnecessary risks for me or my child.”
I gleam like he told me I’m beautiful when he lathers more syrup on the already drenched pancakes. “You are a good agent, a fucking brilliant agent… but you also bend the rules so much that they’re on the verge of snapping.”
“Because I was taught how by the best.”
He smirks, and it sets my heart racing. Grayson is a fantastic agent because he can straddle the boundary between virtue and vice; he can play both sides of the field.
I wanted to be just like him when I left the academy, so I studied his techniques in depth.
Everything I learned, I learned from Grayson and Tobias, so if he wants to call me out as being rogue, he needs to look in the mirror.
Because he can’t deny the truth, Grayson moves our conversation in another direction.
“You need to trust me.” Like he did to me earlier, he doesn’t give me a chance to speak.
“I read your previous write-ups about Samuel. The intel is solid, and the sting operation you orchestrated to net him would have gone off without a hitch.” I wait, knowing there’s more.
“But…” Told you. “There was no reason you couldn’t have had backup.
If you had been honest, I could have warned you about the penthouse booking and stopped your blood pressure from skyrocketing when you had no way of checking in. ”
I nearly argue, then reconsider. Everything he’s saying is true. I’m just too stubborn to admit that. Instead, I bow out of our fight with a cowardly chin dip.
When Grayson arches a brow, waiting for a more detailed response, I clear my throat with a cough, then say, “It won’t happen again. Anything I find out, I will bring it to you first.” He doesn’t need my following two words, but I give them to him anyway. “I promise.”
“Okay. Good.” He stands, then moves to the door. His hand is on the light switch when he ensures there’s no possibility of my sleeping tonight. “Rest. If you’re anything like Darcy, you want a full eight hours before fronting the cameras.”
I could act daft, but his high praise earlier ensures I will never play that card. “I declined my parents’ invitation to be a guest speaker at the fundraiser this year.”
That’s what had me green at the gills earlier tonight.
I wasn’t freaking out about the graphic diagrams in the book Grayson had purchased for me.
It was from declining my father’s invitation via an emotionless blank email.
It read: Thank you for the invitation, but I regretfully decline.
No greeting. No farewell. No mention whatsoever of the years of hard work I have put in to try to bring his youngest daughter home.
It was cold and detached—nothing like how I would want my child to respond to an invitation of mine when they are an adult.
That brief second was the first time I’d ever considered a future for both myself and my unborn child, and it left me hesitant to attend my date with Samuel. Though fleeting, it needed to be ruminated on.
“I know.” Grayson twists to face me, diverting my focus back to him.
“That’s why I accepted on your behalf.” Before I can say he has no right to do that, he proves that he does.
“The fundraiser raises enough money to run this entire division of the bureau, and every event takes off the streets at least two to three perps who can’t help but immerse themselves in the mix, hopeful it won’t have us looking at their intentions with the sinister once-over they deserve.
We also can’t move any further on the information Samuel kindly shared until Wednesday.
So yes, we’re going to the gala, where you’re going to remind the reporters that your sister is out there, waiting to be found, and then we will collar a handful of pedophiles who think they can donate away their sins.
” After thirteen years of trying to conceal my feelings, my crush resurfaces without remorse when he throws my response back at me.
“You’re pregnant, Agent Machini. You are not incompetent.
So strap on your big-girl panties and show everyone precisely that. ”
With that, he flicks off the light and exits my room, leaving me speechless.