Crossover (Cross Duet #2)

1. GRAYSON

1

GRAYSON

The organization I dedicated my life to, I literally killed for, is about to kill the woman I love. And my only family, my three brothers, might get caught in the crosshairs…

It had been difficult for me to embrace the depths of my feelings for Ivy, but she had stitched the shattered remnants of my soul, piece by piece, until the very essence of my being became a rich tapestry of emotions—feelings I had long ago buried in an unmarked grave with a headstone two decades in the making.

Those delicate threads remained vulnerable to the slightest pull, though, and now this ominous feeling that I was too late was a jagged blade, poised to slash through the fragile fabric of my soul.

I had to save her. And my family. No matter the cost.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I fishtailed into my brother’s expansive driveway and damn near stopped at the sight of two men shoving Ivy’s small figure into the back of a black construction van that was parked near the front door. The vehicle was angled for a swift getaway—both a blessing and a curse. With only one way in and out of this long driveway, they’d have to pass me to reach the road. But my advantage was short- lived as their headlights flared to life, momentarily blinding me as my vision struggled to adjust.

With tires screeching against the pavement, I gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turned white. The van loomed ahead, now careening toward me. Time seemed to slow, each second stretched thin as a figure suddenly emerged from Hunter’s mansion, hunched over and coughing from the thin tendrils of smoke snaking out the front door.

Jace.

My heart jerked. Is he okay? Is Hunter? Bryson? Luna?

Every instinct screamed at me to rush inside and ensure my brothers’ safety, but I knew they could call for help if needed. Ivy, on the other hand, had no such luxury. The thought of abandoning my siblings made my stomach churn, yet I realized that if I didn’t follow her now, she’d vanish forever, her fate sealed.

In that frozen moment, suspended between two unthinkable choices, my eyes locked on to my brother. Through the haze of smoke, an outside lamp illuminated him enough to see him stand back up and straighten his arm.

He’s…aiming a gun at them?

The crack of gunfire split the air, and my adrenaline surged in a confusing mix of horror and exhilaration. Horror, because Jace was a businessman, not some trained marksman. His stance suggested he was aiming for the tires, but if one of those bullets went astray and found Ivy instead of its intended target…

I couldn’t bear to finish the thought. Yet beneath the fear, a thrill of hope ignited.

Someone was fighting back on my side.

All his shots must have missed, though, because the vehicle didn’t slow down.

My attention snapped back to Jace, who appeared to be looking at me as he swept his hand in a gesture that said, Go. Follow her!

The leather steering wheel groaned under the force of my grip. Ahead, the van hurtled down the driveway, its headlights glaring in the gathering dark. In a last-ditch attempt to intercept it, I yanked the wheel hard to the left, my vehicle lurching sideways with a sickening crunch of metal on metal.

The airbag exploded in my face, a startling burst of white that filled my vision and left me gasping for breath. To my horror, as the airbag deflated, I could see that the van somehow maintained its hellish trajectory, undeterred by the collision.

Hopelessness rose like bile in my throat, bitter and corrosive, threatening to overwhelm me. With a growl of determination, I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal, the engine roaring in response.

I had to catch up to them. I couldn’t let them get away.

The acrid stench of burning rubber assaulted my nostrils as the van fishtailed onto the main road, tires shrieking against asphalt, all while my engine roared, fighting to close the gap. With one hand on the wheel, I fumbled for my phone with the other, my thumb dancing across the screen to Hunter’s number.

Each unanswered ring stretched an eternity until?—

“Grayson?” Hunter’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Ivy—kidnapped—I’m in pursuit,” I panted, swerving to avoid an oncoming car. “You okay?”

“We’re fine. Security’s arriving.” His tone sharpened. “Focus on Ivy. Go!”

I ended the call, both hands back on the wheel as I bore down on the taillights.

The vehicle in front screeched as it swerved violently to the left at the next intersection, its tires smoking and leaving black streaks on the pavement, and for a heart-stopping moment where my stomach dropped, it teetered on the brink of tipping over, its right wheels lifting off the ground. Until it righted itself with a sickening thud. I followed suit, my foot slamming down on the accelerator, the engine growling in protest, the sound tearing through the air like a wounded animal crying out in a plea for mercy.

As I tailed the vehicle, the urge to ram into them, to force them off the road, was overwhelming. But I couldn’t risk it, not with Ivy in the back. One wrong move at this speed, and she’d be dead.

I had to bide my time, wait for the right moment. And it would come. These guys clearly hadn’t expected a chase, or they wouldn’t have chosen a slow-ass construction vehicle for their getaway. They couldn’t outrun me, not in that clunky piece of shit.

My vehicle was so close to their bumper that I could practically feel Ivy’s presence, could almost hear her ragged breathing over the roar of the engines. They jerked to the left, changing lanes in a pathetic attempt to shake me. I followed with ease, a predator stalking its prey. They tried a few more evasive maneuvers, but I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

You won’t get away from me, assholes.

Suddenly, a metallic clunk erupted, followed by a thin veil of smoke drifting up from my hood. The once-healthy groan of my engine sickened, turning into a high-pitched wheeze, punctuated by little firecracker pops.

No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when I was so close.

My gaze drifted to the hood, which was dented from the minor crash in Hunter’s driveway. I tried to compensate for its slow death, pressing harder down on the accelerator, but the engine mocked me, slowing instead of speeding.

Fuck!

The clunks accelerated like someone had left a metal wrench in the dryer, and the van pulled two car lengths away from me.

Then five.

Then fifteen.

I grabbed my cell phone and hit record, desperate to catch any identifying information, but deep down, I knew it would be too late by then. Ivy would be dead before I could track them down.

Unless…

Seth.

A long shot. He’d still be with Daniel at that safe house, and he had been critical about my not following through with Ivy’s assassination, but he had mad IT skills.

And with the van getting away, he was my only hope.

Seth answered on the first ring.

“Am I on speaker?” My voice cracked with emotion.

“No.” Seth’s tone was edgy, a noticeable shift from his calm, stoic demeanor during our meeting just a few minutes ago.

Something had changed since we reviewed the evidence suggesting Ivy’s innocence. Then, Seth had been skeptical about calling off the operation without further investigation, not wanting to jeopardize his chances for a promotion over a potential false alarm, but now, there was an undercurrent of unease in his voice, a hint of something troubling him that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Seth, I need your help.”

“If anyone would know who to call to stop the?—”

“It’s too late to call it off,” I interrupted. “It’s happening in front of me. They’ve taken her in a van, and I’m in pursuit, but my car is dying. I need your help to track them and find out where they take her.”

More clunks, more smoke.

As silence hung between us, doubt crept into my mind. Had I misread the change in his tone? Perhaps he was just tired or preoccupied with tracking down Vosch, his top priority.

“Please,” I begged. “If you don’t track her down…”

If they end her, they’ll have to end me, too, because I’ll track every one of those fuckers down and kill them.

“I’m supposed to be with the operations team to prep for Nightshade,” Seth replied. Once again, his hesitation was less pronounced than during our last conversation, and now, something else had taken its place—an undefinable quality that nagged at the back of my mind.

The roar of an engine grew louder behind me, and a blur of red metal streaked past on my left, the car’s sleek form cutting through the air. As it sped by, my heart jumped into a free fall as I watched the distance between my car and theirs grow larger, the taillights seeming to mock me, glowing red in the distance like the fading embers of my hope.

“Please,” I repeated.

The sound of my voice was that of a man on his knees, his hands folded in front of him, with tears running down his face.

But this was a big ask for Seth—to help stop a CIA operation. Speaking of which…why hadn’t they killed her on the spot? Why take her like this? Daniel hadn’t said anything about that.

“I shouldn’t intervene with a mission.” Seth’s tone wavered slightly, though, and I noted the word shouldn’t rather than won’t .

“I’m not asking you to intervene. I just need help to gather information.”

“Which you’ll use to try to intervene.”

“Please, Seth. You have to trust me. She’s innocent and…imagine if this was someone you cared about.”

Seth sighed, a heavy, drawn-out sound that hinted at an internal struggle.

“I’ll keep your involvement off the record,” I assured. “I swear to God I will never tell anyone you gave me any information, and if my reputation has any pull left after this, I’ll write a letter of recommendation for you.”

Before this Ivy situation, I was one of the most respected CIA agents in the organization. I had no idea how this would all end—if the CIA would brand me a traitor or if the truth would come to light and I would be branded a hero—but if my reputation wasn’t destroyed, I would happily go out on a limb to help Seth get the promotion that meant so much to him.

The guy deserved it; he was the best IT guy I’d ever worked with, hands down.

“I’m chasing them right now. I just need to ensure my chase stays on course. That’s it.”

As the van pulled three more spaces ahead, despair dragged me down with each labored breath.

“What exactly are you asking?”

My eyes burned with tears of hope. “Hack into nearby surveillance cameras. Help me track the van to its destination.”

Another pause that threatened everything.

“They probably won’t take her somewhere far.” Transporting suspects long distances increased the odds for complications, so chances were, she’d be right here, in Chicago somewhere.

Another huge sigh on the other end of the phone. I could almost picture him running a hand through his blond hair, that massive, tattooed arm flexing with the stress of it.

“If this comes back on me…” Seth’s voice trailed off—and there it was again, something in it that wasn’t there when I met with him last.

I wanted to ask him what it was, what had changed, but I didn’t dare rock this boat, and frankly, I didn’t have the time.

“I’ll owe you, Seth. Big time.”

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the sputtering of my dying engine.

“I’ll do what I can to help you track it,” he allowed. “But I need you to keep this between us. If my suspicions are right, we could be stepping into something bigger than we realize.”

What did that mean?

What suspicions? I didn’t have time to ask, though, not with the van’s taillights becoming almost indiscernible in the darkness ahead.

As if I needed a sign this situation wasn’t dark enough, a blast of lightning rocked out of a thick cloud, followed by a deafening boom that rattled the windows.

“Thank you, Seth. I won’t forget this.”

But as my car finally sputtered to a stop, the night swallowed the van, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.

What if I’m already too late?