Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

66. IVY

66

IVY

Sitting in the great room, I typed another message to Grayson with trembling fingers.

Me: Are you okay? Please respond.

I hit Send, my heart pounding as several agonizing seconds passed.

Message failed to deliver .

The words glared at me from the screen, mocking my desperation.

“I haven’t seen Grayson like this before.” Hunter’s voice startled me, and I turned to find him standing behind me with a glass of scotch in his hand. The faint hint of its smoky scent wafted through the air while his sapphire eyes, so different from Grayson’s emerald ones, studied me with concern.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Hunter swirled the burnt-orange liquid in his glass, the ice cubes clanking softly against the sides. “For years, he’s been…empty. Going through the motions without truly living. But with you?” Hope flickered across his features. “I’ve seen a spark in him that I thought had died with our father.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to maintain composure. “He’s worried about my safety.” Instead of worrying about his own.

I typed another quick message, and at least this one was trying to go through.

That had to be a good sign, right?

“It’s more than that,” Hunter’s voice was low and earnest. “With Grayson, there was before and after. Before our father…died.” He choked that last word out with a deeper, aching tone. “He was your typical happy kid.”

Hunter’s face fell into a grimace at the aching memory.

“But once my dad died”—Hunter shook his head—“Grayson didn’t smile, didn’t associate with people. He just…existed. But with you”—Hunter’s searched my face—“I’ve seen a flicker of that little boy coming back.”

My throat swelled.

“And I don’t want him to go away, because if he does, I don’t think he’ll ever return.” A small pause elapsed. “Which is why I have a…I guess you could call it a favor to ask.”

I blinked, unable to hide my confusion. What could some billionaire want from me?

“Be patient with him,” he said gently. “He’s trying, even if it might not always seem that way, so please don’t give up on him.”

“Why would I give up on him?”

I mean, other than him being a lethal agent who probably had a body count that would make me shudder.

“Grayson”—Hunter rubbed his jaw—“has never had a relationship. I can only imagine he’ll have missteps along the way.”

Missteps. Like holding me hostage and thinking an orgasm could make me forgive him for almost following through with killing me.

Yeah. Missteps was an understatement.

Then again, it had sort of worked, hadn’t it?

“Deep down, no matter how much he’ll try to block it, he’s probably going to live in constant fear that it will all come crashing down around him.”

My chest ached.

In a gentle tone, Hunter added, “I’m asking you to please give him a little grace if he goes off the rails sometimes.”

His soft eyes pleaded with mine, his expression disarming.

Hunter Lockwood wasn’t here to tell me to go easy on his brother; he was on his metaphorical knees, pleading for his brother’s heart, knowing Grayson had already been through so much.

My stomach warmed.

How sweet was it that these big, macho men banded together like this? All Lockwood brothers probably had their own unique scar from losing both parents, especially with the way they lost their father, and they—or at least Hunter—could see that it set them up for complications and relationships.

“I can do that,” I assured. “I just…” My turn to struggle for composure, my voice cracking slightly. “I don’t want him to get hurt, trying to protect me.”

Stupid freaking message, go through already!

Hunter exchanged a look with his brothers, who began to walk across the room.

“Grayson might be unseasoned with relationships,” Hunter continued. “But when it comes to family, it’s not just words. It’s a bond, thicker than blood.”

“And he just made you part of that family,” Jace added, his gaze sincere.

A lump formed in my throat, hard and painful. I had always wanted siblings, and it appeared that, instantly, I had three. Four, if you counted Luna.

But my glee was short-lived because a fresh Message Failed notification flashed on my screen.

“Do you have bad cell phone service in this area?” I asked.

Hunter’s gaze darted to my phone, a flicker of unease crossing his features.

“He’s probably in a dead spot,” he assured, but there was a tightness around his eyes that betrayed his own concern.

Suddenly, a deafening crash shattered the silence, the sound tearing through the air like a thunderclap. My world exploded into chaos. A blinding, acrid fog engulfed me, searing my lungs with each desperate gasp. The room whirled in a dizzying spiral, the floor seeming to lurch and roll beneath my feet. Reality itself seemed to fracture, leaving me adrift in a twister of sensation and disorientation.