Page 84 of Fallen to Thievery
He was speechless anyway.
“You would do that for Grayson? You would help him?” Hunter questioned, eyeing me intensely.
“Yes.” I would.
“Why?” came Grayson’s quiet inquiry. He sounded so fragile, so unlike the fierce man that stood before me.
“Because I love you too, you demented asshole.” I watched as the emotions flickered across his face, his eyes piercing mine.
Hunter stepped between us, pulling me back from the dark depths of Grayson’s eyes. I took Hunter’s outstretched hand, reflexively, still dazed by the things I saw in Grayson’s shadowy irises.
Hunter squeezed my hand tightly for a few moments, covering it with his other hand as well. I noticed then how full of emotion his own face was. His voice was thick, but clear when he spoke.
“Welcome to our family, Ava.”
“Unautres’ilvousplait.” I gestured towards my empty glass for the bartender. She blushed beautifully as I watched her work, creating a mesmerising gold and black cocktail, that matched my dress.
“Sur la maison. On the house,” she repeated in English when she saw my puzzled gaze.
I thanked her with a dazzling smile. It wasn’t fair of me to lead her on like this, but I needed a distraction from my thundering heart. I looked around the extravagant room, taking another sip of my virgin drink. It was an effort to keep my expression bored, careful not to make eye contact with the hungry faces that watched me as I searched again. I’ve been sitting at the bar of this high-end Persian lounge for almost half an hour. The only thing keeping the tremble from my fingers was the fact that Grayson, Hunter and Gemma were sitting outside the building in an unmarked van, watching me on the security cameras.
Grayson and I had fought for days about me coming here, helping him. And I’d been losing, slowly but surely, until I decided to change tactics. He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair messy from all the times he’d pulled his fingers through it in frustration, but his face was hard, determined.
“There is no fucking way, Ava,” he repeated the words for the millionth time.
I took a calming breath and took the photo from the secret compartment in the bedside table, then climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Winning at a game of wills with Grayson was impossible. He snaked his arms around me, holding me so tightly to him, it almost unbruised my heart. My hand ran over his hard chest and around his neck, my fingers feeling the tension fall from his shoulders. I held the picture up between us for him to see. He slowly and reluctantly turned his head to look at it, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
“The night I found this photo in the drawer, I didn’t know who they were, but I made a vow to this woman and little girl that I would get justice for them.” I took his face in my hands. “This is my fight too. Let me keep that promise, Grayson. Let me see it through. For you, but most of all for them. For Dianna and Abby.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into my hand. My soul shattered as I watched a tear fall from the corner of his eye. My strong, ferocious Grayson. My broken Grayson.
“It’s been a whole decade since you started this, Gray. You’ve never been this close. Let’s finish it. So they can rest in peace.”
“You cannot expect me to send you into that viper’s den. You don’t know the real Anderson. You don’t yet understand the depravity that…” He shook his head, sounding ragged and oh so tired. “I cannot lose you too.”
“You won’t.” I kissed him softly. “Because you’ll be there. In the shadows. My guardian devil. The monster other monsters fear.”
His lips quirked up the slightest bit.
“You’re not a helpless, ten-year-old boy anymore, Grayson. You can protect me. I know you will. Besides, I already know everything will go smoothly. My gut tells me so. You should trust my gut.”
Grayson sighed. “You will be my death, brave witch.” He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.
I knew then that I was winning. The scales finally tipped in my favour. My body shuddered as his lips brushed against my skin. I pulled back, lifting the shirt over my head. “Then I’ll make it a sweet death, Gray.”
I shifted involuntarily on the barstool as the memory of what had happened next, flushed hot through me. That was three weeks ago, and we’ve had many inseparable nights since. In the relatively short amount of time that I’ve known him, Grayson had become the centre of my universe. I had never been so completely and utterly absorbed with another human being. So much so, that I had torn myself from his grip and was about to seduce a killer. For him.
Charles was more than a killer, I’d found out. He was the head of a very old, very brutal crime family. One that had escaped public notice for three generations, preferring to work in the safety and leniency of the shadows. Gemma had shown me the very long list of misdeeds that Charles and his people had done, witnessed by her, Hunter or Grayson, while surveiling them. The very reason Grayson and Gemma had met was because of Charles’s business dealings. It was enough to solidify my decision. Charles was a monster, and he had to be stopped.
I felt him before I heard him.
“Ava?”
Needles crept up my spine at that voice, and I spun around. It wasn’t difficult to change the fear into shock spreading over my face.
Charles Anderson was standing a few steps from me, dressed in a tux, his face also adorned in shock. The pretty young woman on his arm was alarmed by his reaction, her big brown eyes bouncing nervously from me to him.
“Oh, gods.Charles,” I said his name breathlessly, then pivoted back to the bar, as if coming to my senses, grabbed my clutch off the counter and tried to make a run for the exit.
