24. Grayson

24

GRAYSON

T he impending dawn glows on the horizon when we return to LA. I’m still sore from last night, but I’m not about to miss an opportunity to be with the woman I love. Finally, I have her all to myself, and there’s no one trying to kill her.

Charlotte has been texting with the Platinum Security crew most of the drive. She has burst into spontaneous laughter on several occasions, without explaining why. Now, though, she seems in a mood to share.

“Hawaii! That’s the winner.”

“What?” I’m at a complete loss.

“That’s where I’m going to send my parents for their anniversary. It got the most votes from my followers.”

“Ah, that’s great.” Just hours after a near death experience, Charlotte is already thinking about what she can do for others. She never ceases to amaze me.

“In other news, the police still want to talk to us,” she says. “But Jax worked things out with his buddy on the force and we can go in on Monday. That gives us the whole weekend.”

“Did they root out the rest of the cult?”

“Yes. Wyatt has several zealots he’s convinced to go along for the ride, but their loyalty has limits. They’re turning against him and testifying for the prosecution at Wyatt’s trial.”

She shakes her head. “Of all the things, I can’t believe that award I got set him off.”

“I think it was just the final straw, Charlotte. The fact is, Wyatt really has done a ton of hard drugs for a long, long time and that takes a heavy toll.”

“I don’t think you can blame this just on drugs.”

“Of course not, but given his jealous and narcissistic personality, the drugs may have exacerbated an existing psychosis.”

Charlotte gives me a quizzical look, and I laugh.

“What? I studied psychology as part of my work with the CIA. You always start with a profile of your subject.”

“Oh?” she grins ear to ear. “Are you going to profile me?”

“Hell no. You scare me.”

She chortles so hard she almost can’t breathe.

I pull up outside of her house. While Charlotte gathers her things, I check on a couple of texts I got while on the road.

A grin spreads over my face when I read the news. Marcellus Lovato just got arrested at the airport on over a hundred charges.

“What are you smiling about?” Charlotte asks as she opens her door.

“Just some old business that’s sorted itself out,” I reply. Tonight is too special of a night to bring it down talking about a piece of work like Lovato. But it feels good to put away one of Castillo’s inner circle and get a little justice for my sister.

I exit the Jeep as well, stuffing my phone in my pocket. Charlotte uses her phone to turn on the lights, and put in the security code as we walk up the sidewalk. She sighs as she enters the house.

“Oh my god, it feels so good to be home. No offense to your quaint little cabin.”

I chuckle and take her in my arms. It feels good to hold her and not worry about the next attack, cyber or otherwise.

“I like my cabin,” I reply with mock indignation.

She laughs, her face lighting up like the fourth of July. She’s so beautiful right now, it makes my heart literally ache. I can't believe that I’m lucky enough to wind up with her.

“So, was this your hardest assignment ever?” I ask.

“Well, maybe physically, but not intellectually. Once, I had to impersonate an English Grad student, so I could infiltrate an Ecstasy ring. Let me tell you, English lit is no joke.”

She laughs, hands kneading my chest like a cat. It feels so easy and natural to be this close to her.

“I can’t picture you sitting in a classroom.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I spent a lot of time curled up with a laptop and trying to learn enough to sound, ah, learned. The hardest part was interpretative literature. Like, how in the Hell am I supposed to know what TS Elliot was rambling on about in The Wasteland.”

“He was talking about the alienation and despair across the world in the wake of World War I.”

I give her a look, and she laughs.

“English was my favorite subject in high school. We did a whole unit on TS Elliot.”

“Look at the big brain on you.”

She gives me a half-lidded gaze and snuggles up a bit closer, rubbing herself against me.

“Be honest. It’s not my brain that you’re thinking about right now.”

“Damn right.”

I lean in and press my lips against her incredibly soft mouth. Kissing Charlotte is like being in a dream I don't want to wake up from.

We break apart, and she rests her forehead against my chest.

“I love you, Charlotte.”

She sighs and rubs her forehead on me.

“I love you, too, Grayson. I couldn't have asked for a better bodyguard. I mean, you sure know how to take care of a girl…”

The chemistry is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

“You know I love taking care of you, Sunshine.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you call me that?”

“Because you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”

I keep singing, old pain searing its way to the surface. Charlotte reaches out and squeezes my hand. Concern swims in her lovely azure gaze when the tears well up in my eyes.

“My mom used to sing that to Sabrina and me when we were kids.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” she says, kissing my tears away. “But it’s also okay to let yourself be happy. Wouldn’t your family want that?”

I open my mouth to argue, then close it. A laugh builds up in my chest and bubbles forth. I feel like a volcano erupting and spewing my tension and emotion out in the most explosive manner possible. Charlotte makes it okay to feel. She makes it okay to not be the tough, implacable guy twenty four seven.

Charlotte watches my display with a happy smile spreading over her face.

“You’re right.”

The profound weight of the admission removes a tension I hadn’t known I’d been carrying. For years, I’ve been punishing myself, denying myself even the thought of being happy because I thought I didn’t deserve it.

But Charlotte has shown me the truth.

She yelps in surprise as I sweep her off her feet, and carry her toward the bedroom.

I’ve lived my whole life in the shadows. Made friends with the darkness, and invited it into my soul.

I thought it would always be that way…until Charlotte pulled me out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Kicking and screaming, maybe, but I’m out now.

If my sister Sabrina could see me now, I think she would be happy for me.

“Thank you, for saving me,” I say, kissing her on top of the head.

“When did I save you?” she asks.

“Every day since we met.”

I pause outside her room as we indulge in a long, lingering kiss. I don’t have to spend the rest of my life in darkness. Charlotte has shown me the way.

Which is just one of the million reasons why I love her.