Page 23 of Crossfire

1) No one controlled me.

2) He was not my boyfriend anymore, and while I was trying ridiculously hard to remind myself his inexcusable behavior was coming from a place of concern, he had no right to touch me like this.

3) Finally, and most importantly, if he didn’t remove his hand, he would face humiliation like he had never experienced in his entire life.I’m talking fingers snapping, balls lodged in his gut, dislocated shoulder humiliation.If not worse.

“Let me go.”

But once again, Pete only tightened his grip.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The words sliced through the air, each syllable a blade of ice. The stranger’s voice was deep, controlled, and deceptively calm, but beneath that composure, I sensed a current of something far more dangerous. It was as if his tone alone—a blend of boredom and rage—was meant to be a warning, a threat, maybe even a promise of violence barely held in check.

My attention snapped up, colliding with striking forest-colored eyes that stole my breath.Those eyes…they were unlike anything I’d ever encountered. Rimmed with steel, it was as if the emerald perimeter was trying to suffocate the shimmering shades of jade attempting to break through, until nothing would be left but darkness. They hinted at a depth I longed to explore, even as every instinct warned me to look away.

The guy appeared to be my age, yet the sharp angles of his face made him look immortal, with a commanding jaw setin the shadow of dark facial stubble matching his hair, which emphasized his magnetic features. At six foot three, he towered over me with an intimidating presence. There was something undeniably authoritative about his demeanor—the stillness of his body, the way his fingers twitched at his sides, like getting into a physical altercation was of no concern to him—that sent a chill gliding over my skin.

Yet, as he studied me, that chill melted into an unexpected warmth.

How many men would interject like this? Risk a punch in the jaw, just to stick up for a total stranger?

Not many, I’d argue.

And certainly fewer still who looked as if a Greek god had decided to moonlight as an action hero.

“This is none of your business,” Pete snapped, ripping my thoughts back to the confrontation.

The stranger’s attention swept over all the witnesses, some of whom were looking at the scene unfolding before them.

Moving with the coiled grace of a panther, Sexy Stranger positioned himself between me and Pete, forcing Pete to release his grip.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”

His deep, pulsing voice echoed in the space around my ears while my brain got to work, dissecting his words, trying to confirm I’d heard them right.

Maybe after the hellish morning I’d had, life was throwing me a bone. Maybe the universe decided almost being murdered and blown to bits was more than one girl could take in the span of a few short hours, so it had offered me this…Greek god of a protector to step in like an exquisite umbrella in my bad-shit rainstorm.

Pete glared at my savior, seeming to take in his height and build, which outmatched his own by four inches and twentypounds. All while I could imagine the thoughts going through his head. How dare this stranger threaten him?

By the way, how offensive that Pete looked more worried about what this guy could do to him than what I could.

“Whatever.” Pete glowered at me. “Get yourself killed for all I care. I don’t give a crap anymore.”

For a fleeting second, tears threatened to erupt in my eyes, but I bit them back, choosing to embrace the relief that came when Pete stormed out of the café, leaving me in the aftermath of his hurricane. In all our time dating, he had never acted like that before, his behavior so despicable that it tainted my memories of him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger’s voice was softer now as he turned and unleashed the full intensity of his stare on me.

My heart raced—and not entirely from the confrontation with Pete.

Later tonight, Pete’s words would replay in my mind on repeat. My brain was a bastard, plotting ways to keep me awake and full of anxiety, and Pete had just provided fuel for weeks. But I’d have to think about that later.

Right now, the stranger scrutinized my elbow.

“He always grab you like that?”

I shook my head. “No.”Hello, brain cells. Glad you could rejoin the party. “Thank you…” I paused, waiting for him to fill in his name, but oddly, he stood there for a minute, evaluating me beforeeventuallyextending his hand.

“Grayson.”

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