Page 26 of Crossover

Ivy.

Grabbing the fallen rifle, I charged toward the sound echoing up the concrete staircase.

14

GRAYSON

Keeping my footsteps quiet, I held the rifle in front of me as I descended.

“Stop!” she screamed. “I told you I didn’t tell anyone!”

Her voice shot through my heart with a fresh bullet of agony as a dark basement came into view, where two figures—with a small orange light of some sort flickering between them—loomed over another, who sat on the ground, her arms held awkwardly around a pole.

Ivy…

The men, fixated on her and her screams, hadn’t turned their heads toward me—not yet. But even from here, I could tell by the outline of his profile, one of them was Daniel.

For the briefest of moments, I registered the betrayal—all of Daniel’s lies. He was actively taking part in Ivy’s torture and elimination. The realization that he’d been involved with the team who’d broken into my family’s home, endangering them. Calling Ivy’s mom to lure her to this sadistic scene, and for what? If the CIA hadn’t ordered this—which was becoming loud and fucking clear since this violated their protocols—then what the hell was this? And why would he do this?

Regardless, the betrayal was unforgivable.

Howdarehe act like he was on my side, act like he was helpless to prevent this horror, when he appeared to be the one giving the instructions.

With a nod of Daniel’s head, the other man took a step forward.

And that’s when I spotted the source of the strange light—a blowtorch.

I clenched my teeth in a blinding symphony of rage and horror.

“Just kill me,” she begged. “Please.”

He will die for that.

As I lined up my rifle and stepped lower, Ivy kicked, trying to fend off the approaching fire, but the man stayed just out of range.

Seeing her so small and vulnerable ripped my heart open and unleashed a boiling hot rage I’d never experienced before. I wanted to tie this man up. Skin him alive.

But saving her—that was priority number one.

I lined up the aim of my rifle to his skull.

And savored the resistance of the trigger giving way.

Bam.

A violent bloom of red burst from his head, his eyes widening moments before he crumpled to the ground—the blowtorch clanking along the floor. And thankfully shutting off in the process.

Daniel’s profile turned, and as our gazes met, a blast of ice frosted over my skin. His expression was darker than I’d ever seen, his face contorted into a muted, emotionless beast that seemed to look right through me.

This wasn’t the face of the man I knew, the man who’d dedicated his life to protecting the people of his country. This expressionless, empty face staring back at me reminded me of the violent criminals I’d dedicated my life to destroying.

And in that instant, I knew he was doing something illegal, something horrific. Why, I didn’t know, but thewhydidn’t matter right now.

What mattered was that, evidently, my hero had just become my enemy.

Instantly, he rearranged his features, but if he thought he could blink away that momentary slip of the true man behind his facade, he was wrong. He couldn’t hide it in the casual, perplexed tone as he asked, “Grayson, what are you doing?”

Upstairs, footsteps trampled closer, halted by thumps, whacks, and grunts.

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