Page 74 of Crossfire

If the CIA was after her, then that meant she was the enemy.

The kind of vile, repulsive trash who I had spent my life hunting and destroying. It was disgusting that part of my heart chose to stay behind its veil of deceit, because all ration was telling me that my feelings for her needed to die. Instantly.

Dammit, Grayson, you need to focus on pulling off this kidnapping without getting Hunter busted.

As soon as I reached the back door, Hunter opened it ahead of me and popped the trunk.

I should’ve tossed her ass inside, made her feel the pain of landing on her wrists bound behind her back. But, despite everything, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her like that. Instead, I placed her down gently, and as I turned her onto her side so she would be more comfortable during the drive, her eyes met mine.

I hated the blinding fear in them, hated that I was the one that caused them to redden and blur with terrified tears.And Ihatedthat I hated it—a better CIA operative would be ambivalent, at best.

Yet…there it was. The clenching in my chest that encouraged me to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her soft skin for a moment longer than necessary.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I whispered.

She didn’t respond, but for a fleeting instant, the world fell away, and it was just the two of us, connected by something deeper than the circumstances that brought us here.

I ground my teeth, searching for my anger before I shut the trunk and joined my brother in the vehicle.

Within a minute, Hunter and I were on the road—his face now free of the mask.

Outside, the storm raged with renewed vigor, its howling wind shaking the car. Rain hammered relentlessly against the windshield while the wipers struggled to keep up with the downpour—their rhythmic swish-swish nearly drowned out every time a roar of thunder rumbled through the sky. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating Hunter’s white knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel, his gaze alternating between his rearview mirror, his side mirrors, and the speedometer.

I knew exactly what he was thinking.

At any moment, a crisis could hit. We could get pulled over, we could spin out on the rainy roads, or we could be in a car accident. All with a hostage bound in the trunk, waiting to be discovered. Destruction was but a heartbeat away, and now that I was sitting here, with my thoughts calming down, I wondered if I had done the right thing, dragging Hunter into this.

He was an ADA. A high-profile one at that. If he was found with a woman tied up in his trunk, what would happen to him?

How could I have been so selfish and reckless, pressuring him to help me, using the times I’d helped him as leverage?

“Thank you,” I said, pulling at the wet fabric of my shirt, which clung to my body.

Hunter pivoted his head slightly before returning his focus to the road.

“How long are you going to hold her?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I have to be at work in the morning,” Hunter warned. “And it would be in our best interest if I made it home before Luna wakes up and starts wondering what could have made me leave the house in the middle of the night.”

It was already three thirty in the morning. That didn’t give me a lot of time.

Or should I say, give Ivy a lot of time?

After one more loud crack of thunder, Hunter cleared his throat.

“Let me ask you this.” He shifted in his seat. “You said her only chance of survival is if you get some answers.” He paused. “Do you think any of those answers will save her life?”

33

GRAYSON

By some damn miracle, we managed to make it all the way to my penthouse building without incident.

That was step one.

Step two would be getting this bound woman up into said penthouse without anyone seeing or hearing her scream.

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