Chapter 35 #2
Grayson looped a belt around my waist.
“I’m not jumping off this roof with you,” I stated, feeling the adrenaline tingle in my fingers.
“I recall a similar conversation at a waterfall.” Grayson smirked up at me. “Do you trust me?” My body jolted as he tested the straps.
“Of course not!”
He laughed from his belly, the sound warming my insides. “Fair enough.”
He pulled on his own belt then secured us to the cable, checking back towards the door. It was creaking loudly, the hinges starting to pull loose from the concrete.
Grayson cupped my face in his hands, pulling my attention back to him. He smiled down at me with an ease that did not reflect our current predicament. “You are made for this, just as much as I am. You’ve proven it over and over these last few months.”
His words rang true in my gut. This was what my soul had craved, once upon a time. The adrenaline. The adventure. The danger.
Grayson was grinning at me. He came closer, reached behind my head and started braiding my hair, tying the ends with a hair tie.
Where the hell did he get a hair tie? “You think of everything, don’t you?”
He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “It won’t be pretty when your hair gets stuck in the zipline. Now, get your mind right.” He stood back, appraising me. “Rule number eight.”
“If it’s not fun, you’re doing it wrong,” I recited, grinning too.
Grayson helped me onto the ledge, onto the small lip of the roof. He placed his arm around my waist. “And if it’s not a little dangerous, is it even fun?” He smirked, cocking a brow at me. “Together?”
“Together,” I laughed as the door blasted open behind us. I grabbed hold of him and pushed us both off the ledge.
Grayson laughed in surprise and I yelped as we whirred through the air, going faster, faster. “How do we stop this thing?” I wondered a little too late as the oncoming building grew bigger and bigger.
“A brake,” he yelled over the whizzing sound of the cable.
“Then brake!” I yelled back, clutching him tighter to me.
He only chuckled, watching me with a mischievous grin.
My heart plummeted as we barrelled down at the concrete building. “Grayson!”
He did not slow us down. We were going so fast, the wind ripped tears from my eyes. I screamed as the building towered in front of us, coming in fast. Grayson pulled a red handle and my body jerked forward as the brakes screamed in protest. Almost louder than me.
We jerked to a complete stop, just centimetres from the concrete. I gasped in a breath of air, and punched Grayson in the chest. “You sick bastard!”
Then it spilled out of me—I threw my head back, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I hadn’t laughed like this for almost two years. Not since we played under the rainbows.
When I finally regained my sanity, I looked around us. We were dangling in the air, about four metres from the ground. “What now?” I asked Grayson, swinging my feet back and forth, feeling as giddy as a child.
He also stared down at the ground beneath us. People in the street were staring at us.
He coughed a laugh, rubbing at his neck. “Honestly? We weren’t supposed to be this high. I meant to aim lower.”
I laughed again.
“Don’t ever tell Hunt I admitted it, but his aim is better than mine,” Grayson confessed as he lifted me up onto a windowsill. He detached us from the zipline, and we carefully climbed down the building.
He thanked a man who had graciously stopped to catch me when I jumped from the last window, not knowing he was aiding criminals.
We jogged into the parking lot of the building. Grayson reached under the wheel of a shiny black sportscar that had stood in this spot from the very beginning of our mission. We had drove past it every night we came to the museum.
I sighed as he held the door open for me. “Always six steps ahead, huh?” I grumbled.
He gave me a sheepish grin and kissed my hand as I lowered into the car.
We eased out of the parking, but Grayson stopped, not merging into the traffic.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked, feeling like I was about to burst out of my skin.
“For the FBI to catch up.”
I sighed. “Do I want to know why?”
Grayson peered at me, grinning like a devil. “Buckle up, Princess. We’re about to have a shit-ton of fun.”
His eyes darted down the street to the three cars swerving through traffic, and his grin widened.
He thrusted the car in drive, the tires squealing as we drifted into the street, right in front of the FBI.
Grayson cut through the traffic with expert precision. He laughed when one of the chase cars tried to make an abrupt turn, like he did, into another street, but skidded across the road, coming to a standstill on the sidewalk. He was in his element, enjoying every second.
He noticed me watching him. “Ghosts don’t get chased very often. It’s nice,” he yelled over the screeching tires.
“You have to be a lunatic to enjoy it this much,” I remarked.
“Oh, I’m very much a lunatic, darling. Just you wait and see.” Grayson laughed, gunning across a red light, jerking the car to the left, narrowly avoiding a semi-truck at the crossing.
His excitement was infectious. The adrenaline was vibrating through me, making me feel all kinds of alive.
We skidded around another corner, and to my surprise, we were driving towards the marina. Was that how he planned to make an escape? Via boat?
There were rows and rows of boats and yachts moored to the docks. Further out were bigger yachts, dotting the blue horizon.
Grayson drove through a fish market, people jumping out of the way, then turned and drove right onto a dock. The seatbelt kept me in my seat as we came to a sudden halt.
“They’ve been dying to see you.” Grayson grinned at a boat as he opened the door.
On it was Gemma and Hunter grinning from ear to ear as I opened the door. Gemma squealed excitedly and I couldn’t help but feel excited too.
The name of the boat caught my eye as we boarded it, and I raised an eyebrow at Grayson. “The Nightingale?”
He only winked. What was he up to?
Gemma crashed into me, sobbing into my hair. Hunter threw his arms around the both of us, lifting us off the ground in a bear hug.
“I knew you’d come back to us,” Gemma cried, probably leaving a trail of snot in my hair. She was laughing and crying and sniffing all at the same time.
“It’s good to have you back, Ava,” Hunt murmured, and I swear there were tears in his eyes.
The boat jolted underneath us as it moved away from the dock.
“Let’s get inside.” Grayson gestured to the cabin. “They’re here.”
The FBI had finally caught up. They had decided to continue their pursuit on foot, not wanting to barrel through a whole market of civilians. They were running up to the dock, taking aim at us.
The cabin was bulletproof I quickly found out as bullets rained against the glass. The boat shot forward, away from the gunfire. It was Liam driving the boat. He hadn’t even acknowledged my presence.
I hadn’t seen him since he saved me from the Russians. It felt like ages ago.
I made my way over to him, touching his arm to get his attention. When he turned to me his face was sad. We stared at each other.
“How did he take it?” he finally spoke.
I diverted my eyes, not able to even look at him. What he did to Owen was shameful. What we did, was despicable.
Liam sighed and circled an arm around me. “I really hate us right now.”
I nodded, a lump cutting off my airway. “Me too.”
Grayson stroked a finger down my arm. “It’s time. We need to get ready.”
“For what?” I wondered.
“Our deaths,” Hunter answered.