Page 49 of Crossover

Or I should say,more. He’d already helped prove the evidence against Ivy was fake. Now, maybe he could help me prove Daniel was the one behind it all.

“Hunter’s private investigator?” Jace asked.

“He’s former CIA. If anyone can help me navigate this mess and bring Daniel to justice, it’s him. I’m going to ask him to investigate Daniel to see if we can prove he’s guilty.”

Jace nodded slowly. “All right, man. Just…be careful, okay? If there’s anything else I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I met Jace’s gaze, a fierce determination burning in my chest. “I will. And thanks, for everything.”

He gave a small nod, nervousness radiating off of him, like he was scared that if I left, he might never see me again.

“When this is all over, let’s have dinner. And in the meantime, if you need me…” I started.

Jace’s mouth curled up slightly in a sad smile. “I know, man. Go get this bastard. And stay alive, yeah?”

26

IVY

I couldn’t believe four days had passed. Four days of endless driving, not going back to see Detective Mitchell “just yet,” hopping from one motel to another. Red had arranged for extra clothing to be delivered on the second night, but even the comfort of clean clothes couldn’t wash away the stains of suffering that had torn through the fabric of my life.

The truth about Dad’s role in his death. Grayson’s role in it. My mother’s.

Mine. One heartbeat sacrificed for another.

It was too much to bear, and that didn’t even factor in processing the fact that Daniel had gotten to me once and could again. No matter how much Grayson’s security tried to protect me and my mom.

Red had been the only constant presence in a chaotic swirl of change. Over the past four days, I’d contemplated running away from Red, though. Many times, in fact. It felt hypocritical to accept Hunter’s help in the wake of everything that happened between me and his brother, but I was too scared to risk my mom’s life over a broken heart.

She was the only parent I had left.

And I couldn’t blame Grayson for staying away from me, either. After the terrible things I’d said to him, he’d probably never talk to me again.

How weak was my heart to burn at that thought? Why hadn’t my feelings for him disintegrated like I’d ordered them to? How pathetic, to long for the very person who ruined my life and stole my father? To miss him, to desperately wish we could go back to the momentbeforeI knew the truth and exist in that peaceful ignorance.

But he was my father’s killer. Even though Grayson would never knowingly have killed an innocent person, that was the only headline that mattered.

I wiped exhausted tears off my cheeks, staring at the ceiling long after Mom’s breathing became slow and shallow. Eventually, I surrendered to sleep myself.

“Let me go!” I screamed. Bucking and kicking at the man dragging me from the safety of the sidewalk to the waiting car door.

I shoved my feet against the vehicle in a life-or-death push of war. Thunder cracked overhead, and rain pelted my face.Only…it wasn’t rain. It was blood, and the sky’s blue had changed to scarlet, soaking the sidewalk in crimson.

“Stop!” I shrieked.

My feet slipped on the blood, and with one shove, I landed in the back seat.

Only…it wasn’t a back seat anymore. It was the floor of a van, Daniel’s two men sitting there with rifles.

“No!”

I jolted awake, gasping for air, my heart pounding against my rib cage as my mind struggled to make sense of my surroundings. The van, the fight—it had all vanished.

I’m in a motel room.

Just a nightmare. No, not just a nightmare. Somehow, my two worst fears had merged together in one Super Bowl–sized terror, leaving me drenched in sweat and desperate for oxygen.

I clawed at my shirt, trying to open my airways, but the stagnant air in the room offered little relief. The faint smell of cigarette smoke lingered, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

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