Page 34 of Crossover

“I’m so sorry, Ivy,” he whispered, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. “I should have been there to protect you.”

He wrapped his arms around me, but the fear didn’t let me savor it for long.

“I…I need to talk to you,” I said, my words trembling. “Alone.”

At the tone of my voice, Grayson pulled back, searching my face.

“Did they…”

“No,” I assured quickly, but the agony of what I needed to ask slashed through my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Grayson sent the guards out of the room, cupping my cheek in his warm palm again, but this time, I stepped back.

“Ivy, what’s going on?”

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to hold the fractured pieces of my soul together as I looked him in the eyes—the eyes that had stared at me with professions of love. The eyes that hungered for me when his body had pressed into mine.

Daniel was lying. Everything will be okay.

“I’ve never told you my father’s name,” I began, my pulse racing.

Grayson’s brow furrowed.

“My dad isn’t my biological father,” I explained, my voice shaking. “My real dad took off shortly after I was born, and my stepdad is the man who raised me since the age of two. I’ve always called him Dad, but we don’t have the same last name. Mine is Jackson, but…”

The words lodged in my throat, as if they were little bombs, recognizing they had the power to explode and destroy everything. If Grayson was the person that killed my dad, I didn’t know how I would survive.

“Hey.” Grayson rubbed the outside of my arms; his touch was meant to be comforting, but now, it felt different. “You’re trembling.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say.

“My dad’s name is…wasAlistair Wainwright.”

Grayson froze, his body going rigid. He stopped moving, stopped blinking, stopped…everything. The silence stretched between us, drowning out every sound except that of our breaths.

Please,I silently begged.Please tell me it’s not true. Tell me Daniel was lying. Tell me that the man I love isn’t the monster who destroyed my world, who stole my family from me. Tell me that my world isn’t about to come crashing down around me.

19

GRAYSON

ONE YEAR, THIRTY-NINE DAYS AGO

“An American?” I hated it when the violent criminals we targeted were homegrown. It made it more insulting that they’d slaughter their own people, all with a side dish of becoming a global menace.

Slow clap.Way to represent the stars and stripes, asshole.

“We need to be careful about this one.” Daniel sat at the small table with his fingers wrapped around a chipped coffee mug. “We cannot have any suspicion that this was an assassination.”

Well, that’s interesting.“Why?” My word bounced against the bare walls of the safe house kitchen while I leaned against the counter.

“This guy is quiet. Few people know about his involvement yet, and the CIA wants to keep it that way. They don’t want to tip their hand that they’re onto this organization.”

“I think they’ll get the message if one of their own turns up dead.” I pulled out a chair and sat down, the legs scraping against the linoleum floor.

“Which is why it can’t look like murder.”

Damn. There was something so satisfying about a bullet to the forehead or a slice to the throat.

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