Page 70 of Hold Me Before You Go

Grayson washere.

I watched in awe, holding my breath as he hopped down into the snow with a fluid, menacing grace. He was dressed in dark green cargo pants with a gun strapped to his hip, black combat boots, and a long-sleeved thermal. He didn’t have a coat or gloves, but I knew he didn’t care. He was here for me, and nothing else mattered to him. That was just how he loved, my Grayson. It was all or nothing for him, and I was ready to spend the rest of my life giving him my all.

The sun shined down on him as he made his way to the cabin, casting a halo of sorts around his broad, tall figure. It was an image I would never forget, even when I was old and gray. He was my dark angel, and I was his sunshine. I stared at his handsome, scarred face that was directed at me, his eyes behind dark shades. I couldn’t wait to look into those eyes, to see his kind soul lingering within the darkness I’d come to know. His darkness was my safe space, and I’d spend an eternity within it if he’d let me.

My eyes dropped to his hands once he was close enough. I just needed to see the snake tattoos.

One red.

One white.

When my bounty hunter was a few feet from the porch steps, I heard Chase come out of the cabin as the blades of the chopper slowed. Grayson’s head shifted slightly to the side, his focus on Mags.

“Leave us,” Grayson clipped, his voice like granite.

Suddenly, all the warmth I’d been feeling left me, and I was freezing once more, just like I had been yesterday.

I froze, staring at him as my lips parted in shock. His boot landed on the bottom step of the wooden porch, the sound almost deafening. He looked to the other side of me at the Sheriff. “Get out,” he ordered.

I expected Chase to argue, and when he didn’t, I looked over to find him giving me a small smile as he put his hat back on. “We’ll talk in a little bit Carrie,” he promised. He made his way down the steps, nodding at Grayson. “Grayson.”

“Sheriff,” he replied curtly, not taking his eyes off Mags. Once Chase was out of earshot, Grayson ordered, “Now, Mags.”

A grunt came from the cowboy, and then he too was heading down the porch steps leaving me all alone. I watched as Mags stopped beside Grayson, saying something low in his ear. My lover nodded once, looking at the ground.

He wasn’t looking at me.

Why—why wasn’t he looking at me?

Then, Mags was walking away, heading towards the chopper. I looked over Grayson’s head, finding Jake and Dominic standing in the snow now, greeting Mags.

A sharp, low order rang in my ears then.“Get in the fucking cabin.”

My head snapped back down to Grayson, who was now standing on the second step. “Grayson,” I practically whimpered, my lip trembling. He said nothing, his chest and shoulders moving calmly with each breath. “Grayson, talk—”

“Get in the goddamn cabin, Carrie. Now.” The words came out quick and swift, like bullets heading straight for my heart.

My anxiety had been right; he was going to leave me. I bent my head, hiding my bruised face from him as I turned around, heading into the cabin. I walked straight, not stopping until I was standing in front of the fire, and that’s when I noticed a blanket and pillow folded up neatly on the couch. My brows came together.

Had Mags slept out here last night?

Grayson’s heavy footsteps sounded behind me, and I looked back to the fire, wrapping my arms around myself. The sunlight seeping into the cabin was cut off then as Grayson quite literallyslammed the door shut. I waited for something—anything. His words. His body heat to come up behind me. Anything.

When nothing happened, I closed my eyes, letting a final tear fall as I braced myself for what was to come next.

“Look at me,” he demanded roughly from far behind me.

I took a breath, holding it in as I slowly spun to face him.

His shades were off now, and I was utterly compelled by his beauty. “Grayson,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

Those dark eyes studied my face, and when they landed on the bruise, his nostrils flared as his jaw tightened underneath his short beard. “I’m going to fucking slaughter them,” he growled.

I knew that.

I knew he was going to.

There wouldn’t be a shred of mercy shown to Brandon or Monica, if she was still alive by the time Grayson caught them.

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