21. GRAYSON
21
GRAYSON
“How many innocent people have I killed?”
Daniel had corrupted this mission; how many other missions had he infected?
I took a small sip of scotch, its flavor coating my tongue with a bittersweet burn that mirrored the ache in my chest. The hotel bar’s dim lighting cast a depressing glow across worn leather chairs and scratched wooden tables—where, undoubtedly, countless people had drowned their own sorrows with a bottle.
After Hunter left to get Luna and take her somewhere safe, Jace sat down when he saw me sitting alone in the corner of the hotel bar—the farthest I could bring myself from Ivy. I told myself to leave. After all, Hunter’s security team was still here, protecting her.
But when I reached the door of the hotel, my feet froze, my fingers twitching at my sides. The thought of walking away, of entrusting her life in someone else’s hands, made my gut twist in agony, so I’d changed into a non-bloody shirt a guard had given me and sat down here.
Jace’s brow furrowed. “This isn’t your fault, Grayson.”
“Isn’t it?” My gaze bore into his, warning him not to waste his time trying to absolve me.
The fact that I was talking to Jace about a CIA mission was a testament to how much had changed. I normally never discussed these things with anyone—the only reason I shared anything with Hunter was because he had come to my aid in the middle of the night and I owed him answers. And earlier tonight, I’d shared the bare minimum. But this time, I told Jace about the mission with her father because my trust in the CIA and Daniel was gone. At this point, sharing secrets with Jace seemed inconsequential compared to what I’d done.
“You need to forgive yourself,” my brother insisted.
My eyes clenched shut.
I never considered myself a good man—anyone who willingly takes lives for a living cannot delude themselves into believing they are good, no matter who their targets are. But I did have good intentions. Protecting the innocent, ending those destined to destroy others, and delivering justice to those who had inflicted unimaginable pain.
These intentions were the fragile thread that stitched the two sides of my soul together—the pure boy before he was damaged by tragedy and the scarred man who took pleasure in delivering pain to monsters. For years, I’d walked the razor’s edge between good and evil, and my intentions had served as my only moral compass. Without them, I would plummet into the abyss of darkness and never return.
But as it turned out, intentions meant nothing.
Only facts did, and the fact was, I’d killed an innocent man. A man who dedicated his life to making the world a better place, who meant everything to the woman I’d grown to love.
I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. “I spent my whole life trying to do the right thing, only to become the villain in someone else’s story.”
In all my years as an operative, I’m ashamed to admit I’d never given much thought to the families of the men I’d killed. Fixated on the lives I’d supposedly saved, I viewed death as a blessing.
But now, not only was I grappling with the shock that I’d ended an innocent life, but I was also coming face-to-face with the ramifications of my actions. The aftermath I’d left behind.
A daughter’s emotional trauma, the enormous financial strain that demolished any hope of her having a normal life. The overwhelming stress and anxiety she’d faced, left holding the bag for her grandmother’s medical care. This was a woman who didn’t deserve any of it. A kind, giving soul who spent her days saving others, and with one bullet, I destroyed her life.
I deserved to have a front-row seat to the destruction I’d caused, to feel every ounce of this burn in my soul. But Ivy didn’t. I couldn’t believe I’d done this to her. As selfish as it was, I wished it had been anyone else I’d killed than someone dear to her.
“I’m the man in the woods,” I said to myself.
A crease appeared between Jace’s eyebrows.
When I was eleven years old, a monster disguised as a man lurked in the forest outside our home, preparing to cast our family into a fate of unending hell by killing my father.
In Ivy’s life, I was that man in the woods. The monster who stole everything from her.
“Look, I know this is messed up,” Jace said. “But you were just following orders. You believed the man was a violent criminal.”
I welcomed the agony twisting through my intestines.
“But he wasn’t,” I said.
“This is a shock to you and Ivy right now, but maybe in time?—”
“She hates me,” I cut him off, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth.
I deserve for her to hate me.
“Maybe she’ll eventually come around.”
“She won’t.” I snapped my gaze to Jace. “I won’t let her.”
Ivy deserved a man who would bring nothing but happiness and light into her life. Not some screwed-up, broken excuse of a human like me, with my twisted wreckage of a soul. I’d shattered her heart. Even if, someday, somehow, she inconceivably convinced herself she could forgive me, I never would. Maybe I could have, had Alistair been some anonymous man. Maybe I could have eventually come to terms with my good intentions and ignorance to the sinister nature of the assignment. But not when that man was Ivy’s father.
“Then, what are you doing here?”
Jace thought that my being in this hotel bar was evidence that I intended to fight for Ivy’s heart, but he was wrong.
“Getting the courage to leave her behind forever,” I answered.
Because that’s what I needed to do. Walk out those doors and never look back.
“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on yourself?”
No. No amount of agony I could put myself through would ever be enough compared to what Ivy was experiencing.
I eyed my twin, wondering, How could two people who looked so similar be so different?
“You have no idea what this feels like,” I scoffed. “You’ve never caused anyone any pain.” Let alone pain this catastrophic.
Something flicked across Jace’s face, which darkened and fell into what seemed to be despair. He took a long pull of his drink, and then almost to himself, he muttered, “I wish that were true.”
I thought back to the comments he’d made in the car.
“Let’s just say that I’ve had a dark past.”
“We all have our sins and secrets, and mine are better left buried.”
He’d been unwilling to explain what he’d meant by that, and now, as I opened my mouth to ask him, he once again saw the intention in my eyes and cut me off at the pass with a wave of his hand.
“Look,” he said, “I’m sure Hunter’s security team is fantastic. Knowing him, they’re all ninjas or something, but no one cares about Ivy as much as you do.”
Debating letting him off the hook that easily, I took a bigger sip of my drink.
“Would you jump in front of a bullet for her?” Jace asked.
“Without hesitation.”
“Then, don’t you agree that someone who’s that passionate about protecting her gives her the best chance of staying alive?”
My entire body hurt, like my failure had infected every joint, every muscle.
“Why do you care so much if I stay with Ivy?” I wondered aloud.
Jace sighed. “Two reasons.”
Always with the bullet points, this guy. He couldn’t shake the CEO from his personality if his life depended on it.
“First, I’ve never seen you care about anyone like this before. Quitting?—”
“I’m not quitting. I’m doing the right thing.”
“ Leaving the only person behind who you’ve ever cared about…” Jace shook his head. “It can’t be the right answer.”
“She’s better off without me.”
“Second reason.” Jace shifted in his seat. “If you take off now and you leave her in the hands of the security team and something happens to her…you will never forgive yourself.”
True, but, “I’ll never forgive myself for killing her father.”
“This is different, and you know it.”
He was right. It was different. But that didn’t change the fact that Ivy shouldn’t have to endure my presence after what I’d done.
Yet, after all the pain I’d caused her, the least I could do was use my skills and CIA knowledge to protect her and her mother. I’d be better equipped than any security guard to identify potential threats.
Ivy had become my sole purpose, and I had to find a way to keep her safe. But how could I protect her without causing her any more pain when she never wanted to see me again?
After taking several slow sips of my drink, I pinched the bridge of my nose, realizing what I’d need to do.