Page 112 of Crossfire

There had been collateral damage along the way, innocent civilians inadvertently taken out with a hostile exchange. Their blood was on my hands, no matter my intentions.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “And would you kill an innocent person?”

I gently swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her delicate skin. “For work, no. But if anyone hurt someone I loved, I wouldn’t hesitate to use my skills on them.”

Ivy examined me closely, her expression both intense and probing. I could sense her internal struggle, the unspoken question hanging in the air between us—could she live with that truth?

I could have lied to her, spun a tale of only targeting violent criminals on behalf of the CIA, but Ivy deserved better. She deserved the unfiltered truth and the opportunity to make an informed decision about whether I was worthy of her affection.

Fury simmered beneath my controlled tone as I warned, “If I got my hands on the men who tried to abduct you, I would kill them. Slowly. And I would savor every moment of their suffering.”

When her eyes widened, my chest constricted.

What if I pushed her too far?Honesty could be a merciless bitch.

Seconds ticked by in silence, each one an eternity. Then, at last, she shifted closer until her lips found mine in a tender kiss. Heaven. The only word to describe being accepted completely—even the darkest parts of my soul.

A peaceful silence settled over us like a sunset over the lake, and in this moment, everything felt right in the world.

Eventually, Ivy propped herself back up on her elbow, studying me.

“So, this darkness,” she started, “you’ve felt it ever since your dad died?”

I trailed my knuckles down her jaw, admiring the graceful lines of her bones.

“My dad’s death was the catalyst, but for years, I was still fighting against the darkness. For my mom’s sake, I wanted to be a good person, a son she could be proud of. She deserved that, after losing her husband and everything she’d been through. But when she died…so did my desire to fight against it. Instead, I surrendered to it.”

Ivy trailed her fingers up my chest.

“I blamed myself for her death,” I admitted.

She stilled, pinching her brows. “I thought she died of cancer?”

I took a deep breath, the memories weighing heavily on my soul.

“She did. But stress…it takes a toll on the body, you know? And I put her through so much.” I paused, my throat tightening. “When I was a kid, I was a nightmare. Always getting into fights, causing trouble at school. She already had enough heartbreak in her life, and I just added to it. Even when I saw what the stress was doing to her, I couldn’t stop.”

Didn’tstop, was the more accurate assessment. I was a selfish asshole, acting like I was the only one grieving, my pain the only thing that mattered. I made everyone else’s life even harder than it already was, claiming the role of the troubled kid, pushing my brothers away and sentencing my mother to unnecessary pain. Like they hadn’t been through enough.

The guilt over my selfish behavior threatened to consume me. Was it any wonder cancer developed in her body? Was it any wonder her body was too exhausted to fight?

“I blame myself, too,” she admitted.

I searched her hazel eyes, which welled up with tears.

Her voice cracked as she continued, “For my dad…the last time I talked to him, we had an argument. I said things I shouldn’t have, and then he took his life.”

Her trembling lips sent a jolt of pain through my heart.

I gently brushed my knuckles along Ivy’s cheek, my gaze locking with hers as I assured her softly, “Your dad’s death wasn’t your fault.”

Ivy’s brow furrowed as she wrestled with her emotions. “Rationally, I know one argument isn’t responsible for everything, but…” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “It was the last thing I said to him, you know? Fighting with him. After everything he’d done for me my entire life, the last words I spoke to him were hurtful. It might’ve been the straw that pushed him.”

“Ivy…” I trailed off.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m scared I’m the reason he ended his life.”

In that moment, the strong, resilient woman I knew allowed herself to crumble. She buried her face in my chest, her body shaking as whimpers escaped her lips. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, as if I could shield her from the weight of her guilt.

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