Page 27 of Craved By Gray

There is still violence playing out a few floors below us as I pull out of her and drop on the floor before pulling her on top of me. She sighs, burrowing into my arms as we lie in silence, listening to the sounds coming from downstairs.I can only hope that since no one has come upstairs, they’ve forgotten about her.

“Shouldn’t we get dressed?” Scarlett finally breaks the silence. “What if someone comes in here?”

I wave the gun at her. “They won’t make it past that door.”

“And it’s a good idea to just wait up here?”

“Yes,” I assure her, dropping a chaste kiss on her forehead. “The Rebels have our backs. They’re my family, and now they’re yours too. You’re not alone anymore.” Neither one of us is. I’ll make it my life’s mission to make that true. Vowing to remind her every waking moment that she has me. Always.

There’s a commotion outside the door, and I roll on top of Scarlet, covering her with my body and aiming my gun atthe doorway. A large shadow comes into view, then I hear the familiar sound of Saint’s voice.

“Fucking hell, Gray. Really? You couldn’t wait until we got out of this hell hole?” he demands, but his tone is teasing.

“Like you would wait if it was your girl and you were in my place,” I fire back, as Scarlett and I quickly dress.

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking get dressed and get out here. The fun’s over.” He pauses for a minute, then adds, “You okay, Scarlett?”

I’m not surprised by my president’s concern for her, but I can tell Scarlett is. I smile and nod reassuringly at her, and she finally answers, “Y-yes. Thank you. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“No one to blame but your piece of shit father,” Saint tells her, and that seems to remind her that her father was among the men downstairs when the fighting started.

“Where is he?” she asks, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking, her face a mask.

Saint hesitates, then tells her honestly, “You don’t have to worry about him bothering you again. He tried to come at Knox, and he did what he had to do.” He doesn’t go into detail, but it’s obvious Knox had to no choice but to kill her father.

Scarlett turns to me, a mixture of grief and relief on her face. “So, it’s over? I’m free?”

I gather her in my arms and smile down at her. “You’re free. We both are.” She smiles as tears slip down her face and she snuggles into my embrace. Holding her close, I guide her out the door, to join our family and start our new beginning.

Epilogue

Six Years Later

Scarlett

A sigh escapes my lips, a soft and contented sound that mingles with the gentle brush against canvas. I’ve been painting for hours, lost in the world of color and texture, reveling every second of it. A family portrait I’ve been working on for weeks is finally coming alive, which means I’ll finish it in time for my best friend’s birthday. The painting will be ready to be framed with just a few more touches.

I push back to stare at the portrait with a sense of pride. A few years ago, when I decided to quit my accounting major, I was scared that I was making a terrible decision. Despite being great with numbers, some might even say talented, accounting never held appeal for me. The main reason I picked the major in the first place was because I was terrified to go against my father’s wishes. But a bigger part of me craved his attention. I figured that if I was helpful and took the path he wanted for me, then he’d value me. It didn’t work.

Choosing art was for me. A passion I’d kept a secret and perhaps would have carried on hiding out of habit if my husbandhadn’t confronted me with the truth. The change was terrifying, but my decision was solidified when Gray dropped me off at the first class with a promise to support whatever decision I made.

With a smile, I brush my finger over the portrait, reminiscing about the memories that often come with every painting. A deep happiness I didn’t imagine I was capable of feeling until I met Gray settles over me, bone deep. He and our Chrome Rebels family didn’t just save me from my father but gave my life color.

I find my mind drifting to the man who raised me, though that’s being generous. It’s bittersweet, grieving for a man that I’d wished he was while feeling relief to finally be out of the clutches of a man who never had a kind word for his daughter. With his death, the Vipers who could, scattered. Those who couldn’t were taken care of by the Rebels, with some hefty pay offs to the local police force.

The Vipers are no more. Haven’t been in years. I sold off everything belonging to the club since it was under my name and used some of the funds to turn the Den into a women’s shelter. I did everything I could to atone for my sins despite Gray’s constant reminders that I had done nothing wrong.

In hopes of being rid of thoughts of the past, I turn back to lose myself in the painting.And I become so lost that I don’t see or hear him coming until suddenly, I feel a warm presence behind me. Before I can turn around, I’m enveloped in an embrace, arms circling around my waist as my husband buries his face in my neck.

“Gray!” I exclaim, slapping my husband’s hand playfully. “You scared me. Jesus, you have to stop creeping up on me when I’m painting.”

“Old habit,” he says into my neck, his warm breath caressing my skin. Goosebumps climb up my body when he kisses my neck, his hands teasing over my dress. “I missed you.”

My heart swells at his words, and there’s that feeling again. The same feeling I had the first time I saw him on that terrace. It’s the same feeling I had when he came to find me in my father’s office, even though I was brokenhearted at what I’d thought was his betrayal.

It’s the feeling I had when I walked down the aisle to the man three weeks after the incident at the clubhouse because Gray wouldn’t have it any other way—and I wouldn’t either.

“I missed you too,” I answer, leaning back against his firm chest, basking in the contentment that comes whenever he’s close. “Where did you guys go this time?”

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