27. IVY
27
IVY
“Ivy?” Grayson’s voice, laced with concern, cut through the night air. He pushed off from the railing, his body tensing as he took in my tearstained face.
In that one suspended moment, the world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the space between us, charged with unspoken emotions. Those eyes—the ones that had haunted my dreams for days—locked on to mine. Shades of forest and fern, more vivid than I remembered, scanned my body up and down, looking for any fresh injury, his muscles poised to attack whatever had created these tears.
Despite my best efforts, my gaze betrayed me, drinking in the sight of him. The long-sleeved black shirt that clung to his frame, outlining every curve of muscle. The way his hair peeked out from beneath his baseball cap, softening the sharp angles of his jaw. My heart, traitor that it was, quickened its pace, falling into a rhythm that clung to his orbit like dangerous gravity.
I opened my mouth to speak, to push him away. But those words wouldn’t come.
Instead, caught between the urge to run and the desperate need to close the distance between us, I shut the door behind me so I wouldn’t wake Mom and whispered, “What are you doing here?”
“You’re crying,” Grayson said, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn’t—wouldn’t—name. The words seemed to pain him, as if my tears were wounds inflicted on his own heart.
His hand twitched, rising slightly before he caught himself. I watched the internal struggle play out across his face like he had to fight the urge to fold me into his strong arms—the arms that once felt like a sanctuary. His fingers curled into a fist at his side, and I could almost feel the phantom touch of his thumb brushing away my tears.
I tore my gaze away, glancing up and down the motel’s second-floor outdoor hallway.
“Where’s Red?” I managed.
His stare was unwavering, his tone a blend of sadness and anger. “Why are you crying?”
“How long have you been here?”
“You haven’t come outside at night like this before.” Grayson’s words were meant to be evidence that he knew something was wrong, and he wanted to know what that something was. But instead, they revealed something else.
My eyes drifted back to his tentatively, and in a meek voice, I asked, “How do you know that?”
When he scanned the parking lot rather than replying, I suspected he was worried that the truth would upset me even more than I already was.
“It’s not safe for you to be out here,” he warned. “Someone could see you.”
“You’ve been out here the whole time,” I realized. “Haven’t you?”
Grayson’s eyes met mine, and those verdant depths, usually so guarded, now fired off flares of affection that threatened to thaw my icy hatred for him. For a heartbeat, I saw past his hurt, past his pain, and I caught a glimpse of the Grayson I’d fallen for—the one who looked at me like I was the answer to a question he’d been asking his whole life.
The slight furrow of his brow spoke of concern he couldn’t hide, as did the almost-imperceptible lean of his body toward mine—as if, even now, he was drawn to me against his will.
“You weren’t supposed to see me.” His voice was low and rough with emotion.
My eyes burned, not just with unshed tears, but with the realization of every hidden meaning lurking in his words. He’d been here the whole time; even after every awful thing I’d said to him, he’d never left me.
And he cared. God, he cared enough to respect the boundaries I’d set, to stay hidden, even when every fiber of his being probably yearned to comfort me. The realization was a double-edged sword, slicing through my carefully constructed defenses.
I didn’t deserve his loyalty, his concern, the depth of feeling I saw reflected in his face. Not after the harsh words I’d hurled at him.
“I’m sorry, Grayson. For what I said.”
His features softened, a flicker of pain crossing his face before being quickly replaced by concern. He took a half step forward, his hands twitching at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach out to me, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle, laced with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
“Ivy.” His gaze searched my face again. “Why are you crying?”
My pain would always come first to him, wouldn’t it? How was I supposed to hold on to my resentment toward him with that knowledge?
I looked down, twisting my hands together.
“Just a nightmare.” I shook my head. “I used to have them all the time.”
Grayson’s voice tensed. “This brought it all back,” he deduced. “The attempted kidnapping when you were thirteen.”
I didn’t deny it.
When I raised my gaze, I was surprised to see how much his face had hardened into sharp lines of anger.
“He’ll pay for what he did, Ivy. Mark my words.”
But I wasn’t thinking about my would-be kidnapper. My thoughts, my heart, were consumed by one person, and seeing him now reaffirmed just how complicated this was.
It was easier to hate him.
It was harder to still love him.
Because there was no way I could ever explore a relationship with my father’s killer. No matter the circumstances.
Yet, in his presence, that logic threatened to blur, and I feared that if he wrapped his arms around me, I might not be able to push him away.
“I asked you to leave, Grayson.” Could he hear the trembling in my voice? Could he hear the part of my heart that was scared he would listen?
“Red can’t be on guard twenty-four/seven,” he said. “He needs a shift to sleep.”
He was right; why hadn’t I thought of that? Poor Red. This was…so unfair to both him and Grayson. In fact, if it weren’t for my mother’s safety, I would leave right now.
“I’ve got Barry looking into Daniel,” Grayson assured me. “As soon as we prove that he’s behind this, that he’s guilty, it will all be over.”
But in this charged air between us, with grief and longing clashing, I knew it wasn’t that simple.
“How long do you think it will take?” My voice was so soft, I wondered if he could even hear it.
“I don’t know.”
I didn’t, either, but standing here now, fighting through the battle of my emotions for Grayson, one thing became clear. Heaven and hell now existed in the same space. While my heart still longed for him and I still felt this live-wire electricity between us, I also felt something completely different.
“I can’t be near you.” The words scratched my throat. “I can’t ever look at you in the same way. It hurts too much.”
Grayson’s face crumpled for a split second, a flash of raw anguish that felt like a knife to my heart. He quickly tried to rearrange his features, but the pain lingered in his eyes, turning that vibrant gaze into a stormy sea of regret and longing.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, silence stretching between us, filled with all the things we couldn’t say, the future we’d lost lying shattered at our feet.
I wanted to take the words back, to erase the hurt I’d caused him, but I couldn’t. The truth, as painful as it was, had to be said.
Grayson took a shaky breath, his voice quiet when he finally spoke.
“I understand.” Two simple words that carried the weight of a thousand goodbyes.
A tightness gripped my windpipe.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I understand if you want to pull security,” I said quietly.
“Ivy.” His gaze became a mix of tenderness and determination that made my heart stutter. “I would never do that to you.”
Before I could react, Grayson’s hand moved, and his fingers ghosted along my cheek, featherlight and achingly gentle. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of warmth down my spine, and my eyes fluttered closed.
When I opened them, the raw emotion in his gaze nearly undid me. For a heartbeat, I thought he might pull me closer, erase the distance between us, maybe even crush his lips to mine for one lass kiss. Instead, his thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then, after appearing to savor the last time he’d ever be allowed to touch me, he slowly withdrew his hand.
The loss of contact was like a physical ache, leaving my skin cold where his warmth had been.
After a few seconds, Grayson unlocked the motel room door with Red’s key and waited for me to step inside. I studied his features, trying to decipher what he was thinking, but he kept his emotions behind a mask, his voice tight as he said, “I’ll be gone by morning.”
My heart cracked at his words, but I forced my feet forward. As I stepped past him, the heat radiating from his body seared my skin, igniting a storm of unwanted sensations. I froze, my eyes locking with his one last time, and unlike a moment ago, his gaze now held a cyclone of affection and regret that threatened to drown me. It took immense strength on my part to force myself away from him.
One . I stepped back into the room. Two. Our eyes remained locked as Grayson hesitated, then slowly pulled the door closed. Three . The latch clicked shut between us, but the ghost of his presence lingered, haunting me.
My breath came in short gasps as panic clawed at my chest. This would be my life now—his memory, his scent, these forbidden feelings assaulting me at every turn. How could I possibly endure this emotional turmoil on top of everything else?
I began pacing, chewing my nail.
This wasn’t right. Grayson shouldn’t have to shoulder all the burden. There had to be something I could do to help prove Daniel’s guilt, to get him arrested and end this nightmare. Going to the police station was deemed unsafe until we could ensure it was no longer being watched, but Detective Mitchell could still help investigate and prove Daniel’s crimes, couldn’t he? Kidnapping, at the very least. That should get Daniel picked up and held while the police or CIA proved everything else.
My hand shook as I retrieved the burner phone and went into the bathroom, where I wouldn’t risk waking Mom up.
I’d saved his number before they’d exchanged our cells with a burner.
“Detective Mitchell.” He answered on the first ring.
“It’s Ivy,” I said. “Do you have a minute?”