Chapter 12

Apparently, I'm the woman who follows her boyfriend around. I know I'm a crazy person. Normal human beings trust their partners.

This is so bad.

If I'm wrong, and he's not doing anything shady, I'm going to look awful. It'll hurt his feelings, and things won't ever be the same between us.

Rationally, I know this.

My instincts don't give a shit. They're convinced Grady was lying, and I'm not going to be able to rest until I know one way or the other.

"Hey, baby," Grady purrs, striding toward me with bare feet. I spotted his boots next to the door when I snuck inside. I squeak, pulling a hand up to cover my face. This is mortifying. "If you wanted to see my house, you could have just said that." An easy smile crosses his face as I peek at him through my fingers.

"I don't see any plants," I accuse, walking closer to the living room. It has high ceilings, and it's a really freaking nice house. "Why the hell have we been hanging out at my shit-hole apartment if you own this?"

How can he even afford this place?

My hackles immediately pop back up.

"I thought you were more comfortable at your apartment. Your bedroom basically doubles as your nest." Grady approaches me slowly.

I back toward the kitchen, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I don't trip over anything.

"How about I grab that change of clothes, and we head back to your place?" he offers, looking incredibly hopeful.

A low moaning sound fills the air.

My head tilts as my eyes narrow.

Grady steps forward, wrapping his hand around my wrist.

"Ohmigod, do you have someone in there?" I shake out of his grip and stomp toward what I assume is a bedroom door.

"Anni Girl, please." Grady sighs, bolting past me. He blocks the door with his massive frame, and my heart drops into my stomach.

Okay, so, logically, I know I'm the one who has kept distance between us, but also…

Apparently, I'm not as far removed from my upbringing as I had hoped.

I'm going to stab him in the testicle.

And even though it's not that poor person's fault, my instincts are still certain that they deserve to die too.

"Are you cheating on me?" I whisper, taking a step back.

"No, hell no," he growls. "I should spank your ass for even asking me that."

"Oh, yeah? Well, then, who is in there, moaning?" My hand lands on my hip as I gesture to the door with the other.

Grady grimaces, glancing at the door and back at me. "You really don't want to go in there." His strong shoulders bounce as he shrugs, like he's got nothing in the way of a good excuse.

"If you don't open that door right now…" I huff. "Then, just consider us over."

Oh. My. God.

Did I just give him an ultimatum?

I hate ultimatums.

They're icky and controlling. I'm turning into a crazy person. More than that, I'm acting like someone I don't like.

"Come on, baby," he says. "Can't you give me the benefit of the doubt this one time?"

My heart drops, and I spin around to leave. No matter what, I've just ruined everything. Even if he's not hiding anything, if he doesn't show me, then I'll always wonder.

This is why I don't surprise people. Nothing good comes from popping in unannounced. I could've been back in my apartment, blissfully unaware of what an asshole the guy I'm falling for really is.

Would that really be a good thing?

My brain can fuck off with its logic.

I think I just realized I'm in love with him.

It might have been nearly impossible to pry that admission out of me before today, but it doesn't make it any less true.

"Annika, goddamn it." Grady grabs for my arm. I let him pull me back to face him, and my fist connects with his jaw. "Jesus Christ, woman. Just open the damn door, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh, fuck off. Like I need your permission," I hiss, shaking out my hand. It's been a long time since I did hand-to-hand combat. I've clearly forgotten how much it hurts to land a good punch to a solid alpha.

"How about, next time you leave the crazy at home when you come for a visit?" Grady grumbles, rubbing his jaw. "Damn, infuriating woman." I raise a hand, flip him off, and stumble over to the door as my vision gets hazy. "Don't try to be cute now. You just knocked the hell out of me."

Murdering the poor moaning woman would be a terrible thing to do when I'm all about female empowerment, but also, she's still all moany.

Couldn't she take a break when I got here?

The door flies open.

My jaw falls as my head tilts, and I try to determine what the hell I'm looking at.

Oh, shit.

I think I'd like to shut the door and pretend none of this ever happened.

"Help! God, help me. He's a fucking lunatic," a raspy voice begs from inside the motherfucking cell built into Grady's extra bedroom.

I stumble over my own feet in an attempt to grab the door, dragging it closed.

In no universe do I want to be considered an accessory to whatever that is.

Finally catching the handle, I pull it closed way too loudly. I'm pretty sure that's Larry. The guy who went missing when he accosted me after work.

Grady's low chuckle fills the air behind me.

My chest rises and falls in rapid pants as I spin around. He's got his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and he gives me that same aww, shucks smile that he always does when he thinks I'm going to be mad.

"You have a cell in your house," I whisper before I can hold the words back.

"It sure looks like I do."

My eyes widen. "Is that the guy who grabbed me at the club?"

"Yup. He's also missing the hand he used to try to restrain you. I thought that was poetic. Don't you think?"

"Are you a serial killer?"

One eye squints, and he pulls up a hand, wobbling it from side to side. "Maybe if you wanna get technical under the terms of the law, but no. I'm for hire—a professional."

Just like my brother.

All the times my instincts have tried to convince me there's something off about him play through my mind like flashes of a murder mystery or thriller movie.

Holy fucking shit.

How did I continually ignore the signs?

I convinced myself I was delusional so many times, it's embarrassing.

Then something would pop up and set off my instincts all over again.

And I still ignored it…

"You're very good," I reluctantly admit.

"Thank you," he says, giving me a cheesy smile. "I like to think I do a pretty good job at faking being normal."

I don't have the first clue what I'm feeling.

On one hand, it hurts that he's not who I thought he was. He's the first person I started to let in after abandoning my old life, and I truly don't know him at all.

What kind of long-game bullshit has he been playing?

On the other hand, he has always looked out for me.

My instincts find it strangely romantic…

He removed that guy's hand for touching me.

Even now that I've discovered his secret, I don't feel threatened, like he's ramping up to murder me to keep it.

I guess it is a possibility, though.

I'm also weirdly relieved that he's not the happy-go-lucky ex-military guy I thought he was. He's much more dangerous than I gave him credit for.

"What's in that bedroom?" I point to the door next to the one holding his motherfucking prisoner.

"Well, if you didn't like my second bedroom, I'm not sure the third will be much of an improvement." He chuckles. "But in the interest of full transparency, I won't stand in your way if you want to check." He points at my chest. "As long as you never try to accuse me of cheating on you again. I'm a damn good boyfriend, even if you keep trying to say we aren't dating."

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

It's kind of an accomplishment, but I have no words.

"Goddamn, you're cute when you"re flustered." Grady's lips tip up, and he winks.

This fucker actually has the audacity to wink at me right now.

I'm getting entirely too close to my heat, considering how the little crinkles near his eyes and the way his strong chest stretches that T-shirt to perfection nearly distract me from the moment at hand.

"You could just trust me, and I could drop to my knees in apology," he tries to negotiate. "You obviously popped up because you need my knot." His muscular arms cross over his chest, and he gives me a playful grin.

God, he really is one of the most attractive men I've ever seen.

And he has a great cock.

He also knows exactly how to use it.

"Are you considering my offer?"

"You've been lying to me since we met." I shake away the illogical thoughts and aim for the other door.

"Yeah, but think about how much you love that little thing I do with my tongue…"

A horrible sound between a scoff and a snort escapes. "You're delusional."

The cold handle turns in my palm, and the door flies open. There's no normal bedroom furniture. Well, there's a desk and a chair, but there are also three large boards filled with pictures of me.

My eyes hone in on a blue box atop the desk. It has a silver ribbon, but not the kind tied around it. It's more the kind with the ribbon glued to the top of the box.

I stomp over.

My hand shakes as I run my pointer finger over the scratchy fabric of the bow.

I twist my head until I can see Grady over my shoulder.

He's got a lazy smirk on his face as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. The bottom of his T-shirt is pulled up, showing a few inches of his abs.

Is he really diabolical enough to do a sexy pose right now?

"If I would have known you were popping over, I'd have made sure I had a real gift." He laughs, and my screwed-up body finds it just as attractive as I always do.

My heat is coming way too fast for this level of revelations.

Yanking the lid off, I toss it aside on the desk.

One hand flies to cover my mouth as the other dips inside the box.

"You dick. This is where all my panties keep disappearing to!" I glare at him over my shoulder, but my gaze quickly moves back to the box.

There are security bracelets from all the clubs Grady and I have gone to over the last couple of years. There's a set of my favorite earrings that went missing six months ago, but mostly, there's a crap load of my underwear.

"You total weirdo," I say distractedly.

My impulses think it's kinda romantic that he's been stealing my things.

I mean, they're in a box with a ribbon.

That makes it feel like he considers them a gift.

Or a trophy.

That's probably more accurate.

I slam the underwear in my hand back into the box and shove the lid on as I take in the multitude of pictures of me. They go all the way back to when I first got to Vegas. It's a little surreal that I never even sensed I was in danger.

"Come on," Grady says from behind me. "Come talk to me."

"What's there to say?" I ask, spinning around. "You've got a prisoner in a cell in your guest bedroom!"

"Yeah, well, you come with a lot of enemies." His muscular shoulder stretches his T-shirt to capacity as he shrugs. "Don't you, Sparrow?"

My vision goes hazy as I stagger forward, moving past him and out into the living room as I try to determine if he really just called me that.

God.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

I got stuck on the fact that he's a stalker and completely forgot to question how deeply his deceit goes.

Those tattoos on his neck taunt me with my own stupidity.

I am a foolish girl.

I spin to face him. He's still in the doorway. He didn't try to stop me when I needed to get out of that room, but I don't know what to think.

"Who hired you?"

"Lucien Andretti," he says with a heavy sigh. "I don't take contracts for women, but he had me dead to rights. I owed him a marker. I'm not sure if I would have completed the job, but I caught your scent, and it became irrelevant, anyway. I faked my own death so that we could be together."

I'm screwed up.

That much is obvious, based on the fact my system lights up at his words.

I still can't let myself be distracted by my hormones. "You've been lying to me since we met."

"Hey," he says calmly. "That goes both ways. How many times have I asked you what you were running from? You've lied to me at least as many times as I've lied to you. In my estimation, they cancel each other out."

"I'm extremely uncomfortable right now," I whisper, blinking like a fool.

"Why? Because you thought you were playing me, but I've known who you were since day one? And on top of all of that, you thought you were going to come over here and catch me doing something shady."

"Yeah," I agree.

All of that has me feeling some type of way.

I'm strangely grateful he's not cheating on me, and I know that makes me a different level of screwed up.

He's a freaking professional killer…

And I'm relieved.

I think that says something about me as a person.

"I really should spank your ass for accusing me of something so out of character," he says.

"You think cheating is worse than killing people?" I ask, but even as I say the words, I know I do.

"Hell, yes, it is. It would have hurt me less if you accused me of being a murderer."

"Isn't that exactly what you were hired to do?"

"But I didn't," he says, like I should be grateful about that fact.

My jaw falls open as it really sinks in.

He's been playing me this entire time.

The happy-go-lucky himbo doesn't exist.

"You're good," I reluctantly admit. "I'm a little impressed."

"I had the benefit of knowing you weren't who you said you were before we met. Otherwise, you probably would have fooled me. You wouldn't have let the old me in, so I watched you. Then I became who you needed me to be." He uncrosses his arms and approaches me slowly. When I don't retreat, he pulls me into his chest. "Don't you get it? Sparrow, Annika, or whatever name you want to take over next, it doesn't matter. I'll love you with that one, just like I love you with this one."

I swipe at my aching eyes as my heart races. "Really?"

"Fuck, yes," he says so fervently that I want to believe him. "I've been looking out for you since before you even knew I existed, but you don't have to keep me at arm's length anymore. I'm fully capable of keeping you safe. I'm just as deadly as you are." He bends, brushing his lips over mine. "Let. Me. In."

My hands dig into his muscular back as my mind spins with the chaos of everything I just learned.

Grady pours his feelings into the kiss, and my knees go weak.

Dammit.

He just flipped my world upside down.

Maybe this is worse than what happened three years ago.

I don't know where we go from here, but I can't lie to myself and pretend I don't love him too.

Grady goes stiff, ripping his mouth away from mine and pulling me behind him in one swift movement. He grips my arm with one of his but extends the other, holding out a gun I had no idea he even had on him.

My eyes widen as the ghost I never thought I'd see again steps into the living room.