80. GRAYSON
80
GRAYSON
The sky was illuminated with brilliant shades of pastel pinks and oranges as the private jet finished its leisurely descent, as if Mother Nature herself were rejoicing as much as I was that Ivy, my family and hers, had survived the battle. The hum of the jet’s engine and the soft screech of its tires as it landed were like mechanical cheers.
Minutes later, with my hands shoved into my pockets, I smiled, witnessing the miracle of all of them coming off the plane. One by one. Carried off the plane by Hunter and Jace, Ivy’s grandmother had a mischievous glint in her eyes, like she’d very much enjoyed being on a private jet, swept away to Costa Rica. The fact that she didn’t get a vacation out of it and had turned back around, well, that didn’t seem to bother her in the least. Not when two handsome Lockwood brothers were carrying her down the private steps to the jetway.
Next came Ivy’s mother, whose appreciative smile threatened to spread across her face that I had kept not only Ivy, but also those dearest to Ivy safe. Luna stepped out next, locking hands with Hunter.
Finally, a delicate figure that I feared I would never see again emerged in the doorway. None of us seemed to register how cold it was outside, our breaths coming out in foggy bursts, the landscape around the tarmac covered in snow and ice. If anything, it felt warm outside, peacefully so, as Ivy’s gaze found mine.
I stepped closer, but once she descended the stairs, we both launched into a jog, closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds. The heat of her body pressing against me, the weight of her arms around my neck, and the softness of her cheek pressed to mine—as her shoulders shook in a relieved sob—were almost magical. Heaven, after enduring the hell we’d been through.
“I was so scared something happened to you and they weren’t telling me until we got home,” she admitted.
“We talked on the phone,” I reminded her.
“I was scared you might be lying in a hospital bed, dying or something, and you weren’t telling me.”
I held her tighter, but immediately loosened my grip, reminding myself I needed to be delicate with her.
When she pulled back, she traced the small bandage on my cheek from where a bullet grazed me.
“I’m fine. And there’s something else you should know,” I declared.
I wiped a fresh stream of tears from her cheeks, looking into her bloodshot eyes, swiping my thumb across her quivering lip. I knew her tears were tears of joy and relief, but they were hard to see all the same.
“Vosch is the one that tried to kidnap you when you were thirteen.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, her eyes darting between my left and right.
“What?”
“I figured Vosch would’ve had other people to do his dirty work for him, but he was the one that tried to kidnap you. He’s the one that got away and drove off and was never caught.”
Hating that look of horror and frustration on her face, I cupped her cheek, my thumb tracing her skin.
“Did Detective Mitchell know that?”
“No,” I assured. “I spoke to him as well as the head of the CIA. It turns out, the police didn’t even know your father was an FBI informant. The entire case was classified, so the FBI had never shared that with the Chicago PD.”
I could see the relief in her eyes that the detective had not betrayed her.
“Vosch can never hurt you again, Kitten.”
She took a deep breath and raised her chin slightly. “Or anyone else.”
My heart swelled at her words. Even after everything she’d been through, here she was, thinking of others. Of all the potential victims who’d now be spared. I felt a lump form in my throat, overwhelmed by her strength, her compassion.
“God, I love you.” I rested my forehead against hers, feeling her warmth, her steady breath.
Her small hand found mine, fingers intertwining.
“Grayson?” she said softly, a hint of vulnerability in her tone. “Can we go home now?”
In those simple words, I heard everything she wasn’t saying. The need for safety, for comfort, for a chance to start healing. For us to begin the next chapter of our lives together, away from all this darkness.
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, Kitten. Let’s go home.”