Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Macy doesn’t tell me I’m wrong or remind me of all the wonderful things my family has done for me or given me. She patiently waits for me to stop acting like our therapy session isn’t exactly that—therapy.
Everyone in this industry knows an hour or two at a gun range is the best therapy any agent can get. That’s why Macy brought me here. She wants to help me—even though my healing might hurt her.
I stare at my hands while flexing my fingers before finally admitting the cause of my angst. “I hate that Cameron’s fear stems from my father’s threat. That she’s been looking over her shoulder for years because of my family. She had to live in the shadows, never really free, because of me.”
“You didn’t do this, Grayson.” Macy’s eyes speak the words she will never say. Your father did. “And Cameron chose—” When I glare at her, silently warning that I’m not in the right headspace to place the blame for any of this on the shoulders of a victim, she swallows before changing the direction of her focus. “You can’t carry all this burden. You shouldn’t be carrying any of it.”
“It’s hard not to. If I’d been smarter, and if I had pushed harder… maybe I would have unearthed the truth years ago. Perhaps then Cameron could have had a real life.”
“You’re acting like she hasn’t lived, but she has, Grayson. Maybe not the life she would have lived if she had been with you, but she has lived.”
And there stems the catalyst of my anger.
Cameron has lived.
My father has lived.
Everyone has lived… except me.
And perhaps Macy.
I peer at Macy in confusion when she murmurs, “It’s not too late, you know.” She nudges me with her knee like my daft face isn’t cute as fuck. “If Cameron is who you truly want, and a life with her is your objective, you’re still in with a chance.” When I scoff, confident that the bridge is beyond burned, she talks faster. “You’re Grayson Rogers. You don’t give up. It isn’t in your vocabulary.”
“Yeah, but this is different.” And weird as fuck to be talking about it with you.
Pursuing Cameron is the appropriate choice. A member of my family put her through years of misery. She deserves a happily ever after more than anyone, but it is hard to remember my responsibilities when the woman seated across from me deserves the same level of happiness.
The thought of anyone else but me filling those shoes for Macy swamps me with jealousy. Thinking this way is incredibly selfish, and acting like my past promises are irrelevant is wrong, but I can’t demand honesty if I’m not ready to follow my own advice.
I owe it to Cameron to fix my father’s mistakes, but I wonder if I’m wasting my time. If she wants to forget, maybe I should as well.
“What do you want to do, Grayson?” Macy asks, peering up at me with beautiful glistening eyes.
“What I want doesn’t matter.” I should stop there, but my heart continues talking. “I doubt she wants anything to do with me after everything my family put her through, so why bother?”
Macy shrugs. “You won’t know unless you try.” She stands and dusts off her bottom as if she were sitting on the ground instead of on a bench. “You don’t need to make a lifelong commitment, but talking is a great starting point for any relationship.” A flare of hesitation crosses her face before she tucks it back away. “I should probably pee before we head out. I saw the public restrooms near Cameron’s apartment. I’d rather pee my pants than use them.”
I grimace in agreement before shadowing her to the bathroom, still unwilling to let her out of my sight so soon after she gave me my first gray hair.
29
MACY
Through one of the many monitors in the surveillance van, I watch Grayson approach Cameron’s apartment, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat. Despite the pleas of my heart to shut down the feed, I don’t listen. It’s like a crash site. Although the thought of witnessing the scene up close repels me, I can’t tear my eyes away.
My heart thumps in my ears when Grayson’s knuckles hover near Cameron’s door but never connect with the highly varnished wood. He’s hesitating. I know that look. It’s the same one he gave me before he left the van five minutes ago. He wasn’t sure if leaving was the right choice, as if he feared I might disappear the moment he turned away.
Cameron’s disappearance left him with many neuroses, particularly a fear that one glance could be the final one.
I told him I’d be fine, and I meant it. Mostly.
I’m not worried about the dangers that target partnerships like ours. I am a trained agent who has taken down perps double my size. I’m afraid that I am setting myself up for heartbreak. The fear that I’m minutes away from losing Grayson gnaws at me and makes my chest ache. But despite the anxiety, I will risk having my heart decimated for him. He’s been through more torment than any of us, and he deserves to be happy.