Page 22 of Fury
The admission hangs between us, weighted with meaning. I set down my fork, meeting his gaze. "Why me, then? Why now?"
He considers the question, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. "Because you're the only one I've ever wanted to wake up next to. The only one worth waiting for."
My heart flutters at the simple honesty in his voice. "Even after all this time?"
"Especially after all this time." He reaches across the island, taking my hand in his. "Two years gave me plenty of opportunity to move on, if that's what I wanted. It wasn't."
I turn my hand in his, our fingers intertwining. "What happens when this is over? When you find him?"
Greyson's eyes hold mine, steady and sure. "The plan is that I take you to dinner, like I promised. We figure out what this is, what we want it to be. No pressure, no expectations beyond what feels right to both of us."
"And my father?"
A wry smile crosses his face. "Your father will probably hate the idea for a while. Then he'll come around, because he loves you and wants you to be happy."
"That simple, huh?"
"Nothing about us is going to be simple, Livie." His expression turns serious. "I'm the president of an MC. That comes with complications, dangers, responsibilities that won't go away. And you've built a life, a career that matters to you. We'll have to figure out how those pieces fit together."
I appreciate his honesty, the lack of sugarcoating. "I'm not afraid of complicated."
"Good." He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Because I'm not letting you go again."
The declaration sends warmth spreading through me, a sense of rightness settling in my bones. Whatever challenges lie ahead—the stalker, my father's disapproval, the complexities of our different lives—facing them together feels not just possible, but inevitable.
A sharp knock at the front door shatters the moment. Greyson is on his feet instantly, his relaxed demeanor replaced by alert vigilance. He moves to a drawer, withdrawing a handgun I hadn't noticed was there.
"Stay here," he orders, already moving toward the entrance.
"Greyson…"
"It's okay," he says, his voice lowering at the fear in mine. "Probably just one of my guys checking in. But stay back, just in case."
I nod, clutching my coffee mug as if it might offer protection. Through the kitchen doorway, I watch as Greyson approaches the front door cautiously, checking the security panel beside it. His shoulders relax slightly.
"It's your brother," he calls back to me, holstering the weapon at the small of his back before opening the door.
Mason's voice carries into the kitchen. "Morning, Reed. My sister decent?"
"Depends on your definition," Greyson replies dryly.
I roll my eyes, setting down my mug and moving into the hallway. "I'm right here, Mase. What's going on?"
My brother's eyes narrow slightly as he takes in my appearance. Greyson's shirt, my bare legs, and wet hair. But he mercifully refrains from commenting. "Dad sent me. We found the car."
My pulse quickens. "Where?"
"Abandoned at a rest stop about twenty miles north. Stolen, like we figured." Mason's expression is grim. "But we found something inside. Something you need to see."
"Pictures?" I guess, my voice catching. "What kind of pictures?"
Mason's jaw tightens as he glances at Greyson, some unspoken communication passing between them.
"Maybe you should sit down," Greyson suggests, his hand finding the small of my back.
I shake my head. "Just tell me."
Mason pulls out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to me. "We found these in the car. Dozens of them, some printed, some pinned to a board in the trunk."
