I am Cat’s prodigy in every way that matters.
“When I said that I had your back before, I meant it,” I tell him, swallowing hard. “I was prepared to marry you and rule, Grey. I had accepted that.”
“I know,” he chokes out, and I can see that he, at least, still believes that he loves me. I’m breaking his fucking heart here, and even if he might not believe it, it hurts me as much as it hurts him.
But we can’t have everything we want, not even close. The world only gives up happiness in bits and pieces. Bittersweet is the best we can ask for. A little dark chocolate with our sugar.
“If we don’t figure this out, our families will slaughter each other,” I whisper, but he’s already nodding and pulling back.
“I know.”
I allow Grey to drop his hands, mine still wrapped around them. A creak at the top of the stairs draws both of our attention.
It’s Reba.
“What’s going on down here?” she asks, Fem posed behind her like a fluffy black and white bodyguard. She starts down the steps, her right hand squeaking against the shiny wood of the banister. Knowing Crown the way I do, I bet he polishes it regularly.
“Grey is leaving,” I tell her, and then quickly add, “but you can’t go with him just yet. He has to leave in … an unconventional sort of way.”
Reba’s already got tears in her green eyes, as if she’s aware that this could be the last time we ever see Grey Wolfe.
Because even if he makes it to the perimeter of the compound, even if he gets out and finds his way back to the mafia, then what?
They came for him once, sure. Because what else was that roadblock other than the mafia’s attempt to rescue their heir? But I’ve met Alvise and Giulia Wolfe, and I can tell you this right now: between Grey and me, I am the luckier of the two.
Cat loves me in his own way, enough to choose me over his son.
Grey’s parents don’t feel about him the same way mine do about me.
They might kill him, even if the club doesn’t.
Reba throws her arms around Grey’s neck, and I’m forced to release his hands. I end up stepping back and bumping into Crown. He puts a possessive hand on my shoulder and squeezes as Reba and Grey hug each other tight, holding on for so long that Grainger actually makes a sound of annoyance, and they pull apart.
“Don’t cry for me, little nun,” Grey says, and she gives a weepy laugh.
“Don’t you dare die out there,” she warns him, and he smiles. It’s a non-answer if I’ve ever seen one. Grey reaches down to pick up the bolt cutters and turns back to me and my men.
“How do I get out of here without being seen? There must be eyes all over this place,” he says, and Beast nods, stepping forward.
“Come with me. I’ll get you into the woods. From there, take as straight a path as you can until you reach the chain-link fence. Cut the smallest hole that you can and crawl though. Make sure you take the fucking bolt cutters with you.” Beast gives him a long, hard look. “Once you get out, I’d stick to the woods for a while. Just because you’re off the compound doesn’t mean you’re safe.”
“Understood,” Grey says, looking down at the tool in his hand before he looks back up at me. “I’ll contact you as soon as I can.”
I nod, but I can’t speak. My throat is far too tight with emotion as I watch Grey follow Beast through the living room and down the hall. There’s a back door to the farmhouse that’s almost directly across from the door to Beast’s bedroom.
My husband slips out first and then, after a moment, he motions for Grey to follow him.
“God, please let him be okay,” Reba murmurs, clasping her hands together in prayer and lowering her chin, eyes closed. “Please get him home safely.”
Now … I don’t know if I believe in God, but I sure as hell believe in the devil; I’ve seen him.
Stay safe, Grey, I think, twisting my hands together in the fabric of my shirt.
I wait in silent anticipation for Beast to return.
When he does, I breathe a small sigh of relief. Getting Grey out of here without being seen by any of my father’s spies, that’s not an easy task.
“He’s on his own now,” Beast tells me as he pauses in front of me. “Whatever happens next is up to him.”
“Thank you,” I say, the words a bit breathless. I glance over at the other three men. “All of you.”
Grainger looks furious, Crown frustrated, Sin annoyed. As always, Beast is stoic and silent.
“I’m asking a lot,” I start as Grainger raises a brow.
