3. Charlotte

3

CHARLOTTE

G rayson’s presence washes over me. I felt it before he even entered the room. He cuts an imposing figure, with broad shoulders, square jaw, and sinewy build. I can see the hints of elaborate tattoos peeking out of his shirt sleeves. They look like they go all the way to his neck. The idea of sitting still for hours and hours while a needle goes in and out of your skin terrifies me, and Grayson’s done it a lot. This man is not afraid of pain.

His eyes capture me the most, however. The silver-gray depths of his gaze threaten to swallow me up whole.

Jax makes the introductions, but Grayson’s gaze never wavers from me. Grayson is subtle, but I can feel my skin burning everywhere he moves his gaze. This guy isn’t on the Platinum Security social media pages. He must be new.

Lucky me.

“Grayson is one of our newest assets, but he comes with a laundry list of qualifications. He spent over a decade working for the CIA.”

“The CIA?” My voice breaks a little when I speak. “What kind of stuff did you do for the CIA?”

Grayson’s nostrils flare as he takes me in with his gaze.

“The kind of stuff I’d have to kill you for if I told you about it.”

If anyone else said that sort of thing to me, I’d laugh in their face. Grayson doesn’t inspire anything of the sort. I feel a chill run down my spine. I can see things in the depths of Grayson’s eyes. Things that tell me he’s hurt people before. Maybe even killed them.

I should be afraid, and I am a little bit. But I should also be repelled, and I’m not. Instead, I feel a need to get closer to Grayson. A lot closer.

Jax keeps on talking, droning on about Grayson’s credentials. I nod and try to listen, but it’s hard to do anything with those smoldering silver eyes burning everything they touch.

Grayson is from the exact opposite universe as me. In my world, everything is out in the open, but glitzed up and staged and produced.

He walks in a world where the glitz doesn’t count. I get the feeling that he’s all too familiar with the dark underbelly of both of our worlds.

Jax winds up his spiel, and gives me a look as if he expects me to say something back. I hadn’t been paying attention, not really. I stammer out something generic.

“It sounds to me like I should be well protected.”

Jax beams a smile, so I know I said what he wanted to hear. He turns to Grayson, still grinning.

“Well, Grayson, it looks like you’re going to do some real work for a change, instead of playing in the jungle and licking hallucinogenic toads all day long.”

Grayson cocks an eyebrow.

“Actually, the hallucinogenic slugs give a much better buzz.”

Jax snorts, and Grayson shrugs.

“I’m ready to begin the mission…”

Grayson squeezes his eyes shut and contorts his face into a grimace.

“I mean, I’m ready to start the job. I do need more information, however, about the nature of the threat Ms. Gilroy faces.”

“I can play you the video they hacked into my live stream.” I dig in my purse and extract my phone. “And please, call me Charlotte.”

I tap on the screen until I find the saved video, then turn it around so he can see. Grayson takes the phone out of my hand, unprompted. I can feel the power in his grip, a casual strength that’s all the more overpowering for its subtlety. His knuckles are the size of walnuts, and his wrists are thicker than my ankles.

This is a man far stronger than he looks…and he looks damn strong.

Grayson’s eyes narrow as he watches the Order’s video recorded threat. I’ve heard it a dozen times now since it first happened, but it still cuts me like a knife. This time, though, I feel almost like a bullied kid finally turning their oppressor into the principal’s office.

Grayson’s reactions are inscrutable, impossible to read. The only thing I know for sure is he’s concentrating with laser focus. As the video ends, he pushes pause and hands the phone back to me.

“Are you certain this isn’t a prank by one of your followers?”

His deep voice rolls over me like an ocean wave. He almost seems like he’s whispering, but not quite. Somehow, it’s more intense than if he’d yelled at the top of his lungs.

“That’s what the cops asked her too,” Jax interjects. “She has nearly two and a half million followers. I’ve got Harlowe working on it but quite honestly there’s just too many accounts for us to vet.”

Grayson turns his gaze on me. I suppress the urge to shift awkwardly.

“Have you had any negative interactions with people on the internet lately? Trolls or what have you?”

I sigh. “I’m not sure how to answer that. There are always trolls in my feeds, but I do my best to ignore them. I get a lot of threats, too, so when the Order direct messaged me–”

His eyes widen. “They directly messaged you? When?”

“Um, about a week ago. They told me to stop posting or I would suffer the consequences. I didn’t take it seriously at the time.”

“Why not?”

I put one hand on my hip and glare at him.

“Um, because like I said, I get threats all the time. If all I did was respond to them, I wouldn’t have any time to create new content.”

His lips draw into a narrow line. Grayson doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. I can tell he thinks my creating new content is not worth risking my life over.

If he only knew.

“You’ve dealt with cults before, haven’t you Grayson?” Jax sits forward in his chair. “When you were in the CIA?”

Grayson nods, his gaze growing distant.

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with them. Most cults are relatively small, and limited to a specific geographic area. The Aegis Order seems to have a wider focus. Whether or not they have a reach to match that focus remains to be seen. I mean, this could be a joke.”

I lick my lips nervously and gesture toward my phone.

“Do you really think this is a joke or a prank?”

Grayson inhales deeply, his nostrils growing narrow. He holds his breath for a long moment as he locks eyes with me. My belly feels tickly, despite my anxiety about the Order.

“No.”

The level of certainty, of finality in his tone drives home the seriousness of my situation. If a guy who’s dealt with the worst of the worst society has to offer is worried, then I am too. I’m damn worried.

“Ah,” Jax says, realizing the tension has thickened in the room. “Grayson has the knowledge and skill set to keep you safe from the Order, though. Right, Grayson?”

Grayson nods, turning his gaze off of me. Thank goodness, I was about to turn into a puddle on the floor.

“As long as she does exactly what I tell her, yes.”

Jax chuckles, and tries to smile reassuringly.

“Grayson might sometimes ask you to do something that doesn’t make any sense to you at the time, but please trust his instincts and his training. His number one priority is keeping you safe from harm…”

Jax turns back to Grayson and stares him down.

“However, I’m sure he can perform this duty without resorting to being a, to use the parlance of our times, a huge dick.”

I can’t help it. His jibe comes out of nowhere and I have to laugh. Grayson the Ghost doesn’t laugh, of course. He doesn’t even crack a smile.

“I’ll do my best not to run off your clientele, Jaxon. But for the time being, I can’t babysit her. I have to work my contacts, follow up on leads, and dig up what I can on this cult. Shouldn't take me more than a week.”

I flinch, because I’d been under the impression Grayson was my bodyguard. I turn to Jax with confusion. To my relief, Jax seems just as discombobulated. His brow comes low over his eyes and he tilts his head to the side.

“I think you misunderstand what we do here at Platinum Security, Grayson. Our primary objective is to protect our clients. It’s going to be hard to do that if you’re not physically present.”

Grayson frowns, but otherwise has no reaction.

“I see. What about my contacts?”

“I’m sure a clever guy like yourself will figure out how to get your job done under the restrictions applied.”

I look between the two men, pursing my lips.

“Um, look, I don’t want to cause any trouble–”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Jax says smoothly. He shoots a glance at Grayson. “Is it, Grayson?”

Grayson stiffens up, almost like he’s at attention.

“No, Sir. No trouble at all.”

Grayson turns to me and bows his head slightly.

“I’m sorry if our banter made you uncomfortable. I’ll try not to do that again.”

I don’t think that he can keep that promise. Just being near him makes me uncomfortable, though for admittedly good reasons.

“No problem. As long as you’re not going to be resentful, or passive aggressive later,” I say carefully.

Grayson arches his brows, and I think I might detect amusement in his eyes. Or maybe not.

“I won’t be resentful, I promise. And I’m only actively aggressive.”

It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s making a joke, and then I laugh a little too loudly. Grayson just stares at me for a beat and then turns to Jax.

“I assume I have access to the stipend account?”

Jax nods. “Sure, just don’t buy a new convertible on the company card. You can, however, purchase anything that might make our client feel more comfortable.”

Grayson gives a nod, then turns to me.

“Let’s go and secure your apartment, Miss…I mean, Charlotte.”

I wonder if the impression I get of Grayson is right. He seems authentic, but he worked for the CIA for a long time. Could he possibly be for real underneath all of his spy layers?

Or is that perceived realness just another layer of smoke and mirrors, obscuring the truth?