Chapter 16 Macy #2
Upon noticing that he has gained my attention, he joins me in the living area. I expect it’s about Samuel’s bail, so I’m surprised when he goes in a different direction. “Is there something you want to ask me?”
“No. Why?” My voice should convey disdain at how easily he reads me, but it only expresses awe.
I take a mental note to learn how to school my features better when he exposes that he’s continuously profiling.
“Your nose is doing that twitchy, confused spasm it only does when you’re suspicious of something.
Since you are knee-deep in Cameron’s file, I assume it has something to do with her case. ”
“No. Ah…” I hate lying, especially to this man. “I was just wondering if you’ve heard anything from Agent Markwell yet?”
Grayson knows I’m lying but pretends he doesn’t.
“Not yet. I said you’d be the first I’d tell if I heard anything.
” He scoffs. “I doubt it will be anytime in the next few days. Markwell is pissed that we gave this collar to local law enforcement officers without including his name on the paperwork.”
I snarl, loathing that anyone could be in this job for the accolades, before I twist to face him like it won’t squash the imaginary lemon wedged low in my uterus when he coughs up some of the intel I’ve been seeking all afternoon.
“Detective Montrose said he’ll drop by after his shift tonight with a copy of Samuel’s hearing transcript.
From what I could gather in the code he was talking, Samuel was offered a plea deal. ”
“He would have had to give them someone big to get a deal that included bail.”
Grayson nods, agreeing with me.
“Do we have any idea who it might be?”
His nod shifts to a headshake. “I’m working on it. I should have something in the next hour or two. I just figured I would check how you’re doing before diving back into it.”
Hating the discomfort in his words, I say, “It’s going okay. However, I am a little confused about the forensic report on the burned-out van. They said the fire was deliberately lit.”
A strand of blond hair drapes across his eye when he dips his chin. “They used an accelerant. CSIs believe it was to conceal DNA evidence.”
“Then why would they start the fire in the motor instead of the cab of the van?” Even a rookie agent knows they would collect most of the DNA evidence from the cab of the kidnapping vehicle.
Grayson’s lips twitch, but just as he’s about to speak, a loud knock echoes through the apartment’s front door.
The groove between Grayson’s blond brows deepens when he checks the time.
Either Detective Montrose is super early, or more time has passed than he realized.
I highly doubt it is the latter. On the precise minute of each hour, Grayson hands me a glass of water and hits me with a stern look.
He didn’t take my comment about the color of my pee as playful as I intended.
He’s ensuring I stay hydrated, while also unknowingly permitting me to leave the couch at least every thirty minutes to relieve my bladder of the excessive amount of liquid he’s forcing through my kidneys.
“Wow. That was fast.” When Grayson’s high-pitched squawk rumbles further than the living room, I pretend I can’t use the bathroom without veering past the entryway.
I gasp a sharp breath when I learn Samuel’s court transcript isn’t big enough to require a delivery van. A crib, stroller, car seat, bassinet, and changing table, though. They would need a van to deliver them to their owner, and the knowledge leaves me breathless.
After signing for the multiple packages, Grayson waves his hand at the boxed crib.
“That’s the correct one, right?” he asks, assuming my watering eyes are because he purchased the wrong crib.
“I couldn’t ask Jordan your preference since I refused to let her get a single penny in commission, but I’m reasonably sure that’s the one you wanted.
” The longer I remain quiet, the more panicked he becomes. “Mace—”
“It’s perfect.” My eyes burn as my nose tingles. “It is all perfect.”
Gratitude is there, but I can’t embrace it since guilt swallows me whole. With a howl, I collapse to the ground as pain shreds through my chest.
When pots crash and bang from the kitchen, I slowly rouse. My body feels heavier, and it takes me a second to realize why. I’m on the couch. Still. But instead of being surrounded by files and forensic reports, I’m covered with snot-filled tissues and bump-caressing pillows.
The events of the past day come rushing back in—my near fall, the hospital visit, the doctor’s warnings. Grayson’s face in the moments before I collapsed makes me feel the most guilt.
I don’t recall what I said while blubbering like a brainless idiot, but it was something along the lines of not deserving the things he had purchased for me, and that he wouldn’t be so eager to help me if he knew the doubts I was having about Cameron’s kidnapping, before his generosity overwhelmed me.
Although Grayson repeatedly reminded me of my worth, overcoming years of self-doubt will take time. Not even the short nap all sob-fests inspire has helped me feel better about living a life my sister missed out on. She didn’t even have a serious boyfriend before she was taken.
I only slightly adjust my position, yet Grayson still notices. He exits the kitchen, his expression a mix of concern and relief when he spots my open eyes. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
Though guilt still gnaws at me, I look past it. “I’m okay.” Needing to be honest, I add, “A little embarrassed, but still okay.”
His smile mimics mine as he gestures his head toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I can’t cook for shit, but something is better than nothing, right?”
The blanket I hadn’t realized was keeping me warm slips away from my body as I nod and stand. The guilt attempting to bury me whole deepens when I enter the kitchen. Files from my sister’s case cover the counter, and Grayson has marked additional notes in the margins.
He has dedicated hours to Kendall’s kidnapping, while I have only cast doubt on Cameron’s case.
Grayson closes the files I’m staring at and stores them in a box before he serves up a creamy pasta dish. Although his worried expression conveys everything he wants me to know, he still uses words to express himself. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself. It isn’t good for you or the baby.”
Unable to maintain eye contact, I look away. “I know, but I can’t help it. I feel so guilty, like I’m not doing enough.”
He forces eye contact before he says matter-of-factly, “I’ve spent the last several hours elbow-deep in your files. You’ve given enough. There’s no more to give, Mace.”
The honesty in his words hits me hard, and tears well up in my eyes. “It is easier to suggest stepping back than to do it. I don’t want to let anyone down.” I continue to take the honest route, speaking freely and from the heart. “I don’t want to let you down.”
After placing the pan on the counter, he leans over and brushes away a tear from my cheek, his touch tender.
“You could never let me down. You’ve kept this investigation afloat by yourself for months.
Your intel took down the main transport entity of this operative, and you gave victims a voice.
You’ve done an amazing job, but now you need to give yourself some grace. ”
I wait for his words to sink in. “You’re right. I need to let go of this guilt.” He looks relieved that he is finally getting through to me until I add, “But so do you, Grayson.”
He returns to serving the dish, his expression nonchalant. “What do you mean?”
He can’t fool me. “I read the reports from the witnesses. I know how well you defended Cameron. So you can’t keep living with your guilt, either. You did everything you could, but you will never believe that until you’ve forgiven yourself.”
He looks away, his jaw tightening. “It’s not that simple. You weren’t there when Kendall was taken. You didn’t fail to protect her like I did Cameron. I should have done more.”
“What more could you have done?”
“I should have kept fighting. I should have stayed on the scene. I should have never placed revenge above her safety.” His voice lowers from a shout to a whisper. “I failed her.”
“You didn’t fail her. You were there for her when she needed you the most. You protected her to the best of your ability, and she will be grateful for that for the rest of her life.
You need to take your own advice, Grayson.
You need to release this guilt, too, and move on.
” He shakes his head, and I feign ignorance.
“If you can do that, or at least try, I promise to do the same.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with emotion as he gauges the authenticity of my barter.
When he realizes I am being honest, he whispers, “I don’t know if I can.
” He glances at my stomach for several seconds before meeting my gaze again.
The guilt in his eyes isn’t solely for Cameron.
Some of it is there for me as well. He’s taking all the blame for my fall, and it has him offering out lifelines like I’m worthy of them. “But I can try… for you.”
Overcome with emotions after his last two words, I race around the kitchen counter and throw myself into his arms. We huddle together for several long minutes, holding each other, and for just a moment, a sense of peace I haven’t felt in forever overwhelms me.