Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

61. IVY

61

IVY

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“You’ll be safe here,” Grayson reassured me, but he handed me my cell phone.

Like he knew he might, what, call me and say goodbye later? What other reason would he suddenly return it to me like this? My ribs tightened.

In the back of my mind, it occurred to me that I’d need to call my mom sooner rather than later to let her know why I’d gone MIA. And I needed to call Detective Mitchell back, too, but all of that had to come later. Right now, it felt like my world was on fire, and the only thing I could focus on was if Grayson would survive the next few hours.

“Not for me,” I said. “I’m scared for you.”

Tucking my phone into my pocket, I placed the palms of my hands against Grayson’s granite chest, looking up into eyes that shimmered like sunlight through spring leaves—eyes that had become my anchor in the chaos.

In this moment, as the fear of losing him forever became all too real, a sudden realization struck me—I was irrevocably, undeniably in love with him.

His actions spoke volumes. Walking into a top-secret CIA meeting, accusing them of making grave mistakes or even being corrupt, was incredibly risky. Such damning accusations could put his life in danger, yet he willingly stepped into the lion’s den because he believed it was the best chance at saving my life.

Even if it meant sacrificing his own.

The mere thought of this possibility caused my stomach to collapse in on itself.

Grayson had brought light into my life when all I knew was darkness, and with him—for the first time in what felt like forever—I wasn’t consumed with pain. Rather, a glimmer of hope had infiltrated my heart.

“You’re about to poke a big organization, Grayson. That piece of paper proves that, at a minimum, they can be breached. Which casts a shadow of doubt over the integrity of their missions, and if that were ever exposed to the public, I can’t imagine the ramifications.”

I could tell by the narrowing of his lips that he had already considered this himself, but probably hadn’t voiced his concerns to avoid worrying me.

“Or,” I continued, “at its worst, it might be the thread that unravels something even bigger—that shows that the entire organization is already corrupt.”

“Ivy…”

“What if this one little assignment has the power to take down an organization with an army of deadly agents behind it?” My eyes welled. “What if you don’t leave that meeting alive?”

Tears spilled down my cheeks as my fears crashed over me.

Grayson gave out a gentle sigh, wiped my tears away, and cupped my face with his reassuring hand. I leaned into the warmth of his touch, wishing we could hide away from the ominous cloud that loomed over us.

“I have to prove to the CIA that you’re innocent.” He slid his hand down my jaw, down my throat, stilling when his fingers lingered above my jugular. “I have to do this to make sure your heart keeps beating.”

“But I need yours to keep beating,” I pleaded, my heart cracking at the thought of losing him. “Can you promise me that you will come home alive? Because I can’t lose you, Grayson. I already lost my father, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you, too.”

Grayson’s eyes searched mine, as if trying to memorize every pixel of color in them. He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us while time slowed.

We clung to each other, breathing through the uncertainty of our future.

“I need to do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” Grayson repeated.

And in that moment, my assassin became my protector.

One final time.