3. Grier

Chapter 3

Grier

G rier was still hunched over her laptop, her fingers moving rapidly across the keys as she decrypted yet another layer of security on the file. Layer after layer—they didn't want anyone to be able to decrypt it, but Grier was better than they were. The dimly-lit house was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of the computer and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors beneath her. The room was small, its bare walls and sparse furniture giving it an oppressive, claustrophobic feel. But Grier barely noticed. Her mind was sharp, focused on the task at hand, the boredom that had plagued her earlier now replaced with a razor-sharp intensity.

She was close, so close, to uncovering the secrets buried within the file. Her green eyes, sharp and intelligent, flickered with determination as the last line of code unraveled before her. The information she was about to uncover could shake the very foundations of the CIA. Her heart raced as the final lock clicked open, and she leaned in, eyes narrowing as the screen displayed the decrypted data.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion shattered the silence, ripping through the building with a force that knocked Grier out of her chair. The blast wave sent her sprawling across the floor, her laptop skidding out of reach. A high-pitched ringing filled her ears, and for a moment, she couldn't move, her body paralyzed by the shock. Smoke began to fill the room, thick and acrid, stinging her eyes and lungs as she struggled to regain her bearings.

Panic surged through her as she realized what had happened. The safe house was under attack, and she was caught in the middle of it. Her laptop—she needed her laptop. Grier forced herself to move, crawling on her hands and knees across the floor, her vision blurred by the smoke. Her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the laptop, and she clutched it to her chest, the only lifeline she had in the chaos that surrounded her.

Stumbling to her feet, Grier fought through the haze, her analytical mind racing to assess the situation. She had to get out, had to escape before the entire building came down around her. But as she turned toward the exit, a strong hand suddenly grabbed her arm, yanking her back with a force that nearly sent her sprawling again.

She whipped around, her eyes wide with fear and anger, ready to fight off whoever had grabbed her. But the sight that met her stopped her cold. Standing before her, his face half-hidden in the shadows, was a man with intense blue eyes and rugged, battle-hardened features. His grip on her arm was firm, unyielding, and his gaze swept over her with a mixture of urgency and calculation.

It was him. The man she'd only known as Master McSexy.

Grier's heart skipped a beat as recognition slammed into her. She'd known he was no ordinary man. Samantha had shared he was a former SEAL Commander and was now a Cerberus operative. Cerberus was one of the most elite and dangerous forces in the world. Samantha had wanted to assure Grier that her anonymity was assured. Those piercing blue eyes, that commanding presence—she had seen them all before—felt them all before—in a very different setting.

Club Southside.

The memory hit her like another explosion. The man standing before her was the whipmaster, the man who had brought her to the edge of ecstasy and beyond in that dark, decadent club in Chicago. The man she had run from, terrified of the intensity of what she had felt, of the power he had wielded over her. And now, here he was, in the flesh, standing before her in the middle of a war zone, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.

For a split second, Grier hesitated, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. How could this be happening? How could the man who had haunted her dreams for months now be here, in this very moment, pulling her toward the chaos of the Moscow night? She wanted to ask him, wanted to demand answers, but there was no time, no space for questions. The urgency of the situation pressed down on her like a physical weight, crushing her hesitation beneath its overwhelming force.

His grip tightened on her arm, his expression unreadable as he scanned the room, his military training kicking in as he assessed the dangers. "We need to move," he said, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for argument. There was no recognition in his eyes, no sign that he remembered her from that night in Chicago. To him, she was just another mission, another objective to be completed.

But Grier knew him. She knew the man behind those eyes, knew what he was capable of—and that was what scared her the most. The power he had over her then, the way he had unraveled her with just a look, was nothing compared to the force of his presence now, in the midst of danger.

"I'm Alec McKennon. I'm with Cerberus. We need to move." She hesitated. "Grier, now," Master McSexy snapped, his voice cutting through her hesitation like a knife.

How did he know her name? That was a stupid question to ask herself in the middle of this insanity. He must have been given her name when they'd given him the job of saving her. Wait. Was he saving her? If so, saving her from what? Did the Russians know she was here? What she was doing?

Alec McKennon. She liked his name. It was a strong, confident name.

He pulled her toward the door, dragging her into action, his movements decisive and sure. The building was collapsing around them, the smoke thickening with every passing second. Grier's analytical mind, which had been racing to find a way out, now clamped down on the situation with cold precision. There was no time to question, no time to think. She had to trust him, had to follow his lead, or she wouldn't make it out alive.

They moved through the corridors of the safe house like shadows, Alec—she really liked his name—leading the way with an ease that belied the danger they were in. He moved with the confidence of a man who had faced death countless times and come out the other side. Grier followed, her heart pounding, her laptop clutched to her chest like a lifeline. The air was thick with smoke and dust, and the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the building, a stark reminder of the peril they were in.

Alec stopped suddenly, pressing her back against the wall as he peeked around a corner. Grier could feel his breath against her ear, could smell the sweat and gunpowder that clung to his skin. It brought her back to that night at Club Southside, the memory so vivid it was almost tangible. She could feel the weight of his hands on her, the way he had controlled every movement, every sensation. She had never felt so alive, so utterly at someone else's mercy—and it had terrified her.

But this was different. This was real, and the stakes were life and death. She forced the memory away, focusing on the present, on the danger that surrounded them. Alec pulled back, his expression grim as he met her eyes.

"Two hostiles," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of destruction. "We need to take them out quietly."

Grier nodded, her throat too dry to speak. She wasn't a soldier, wasn't trained for this kind of combat, but she wasn't helpless, either. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, concealed blade—a tool of last resort. Alec noticed the movement, his eyes flicking to the knife with a brief flash of approval before he nodded.

He moved first, slipping around the corner like a shadow. Grier followed, her heart in her throat as they approached the two men standing at the end of the hall, their backs turned to them. Alec moved with lethal precision, taking down the first man with a swift, silent strike. The second man barely had time to react before Alec's arm was around his throat, cutting off his air supply until he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Grier watched, her breath coming in shallow gasps as Alec turned back to her, his eyes sharp and focused. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his movements. He was a man who had done this countless times before, and it showed.

"This way," Alec said, jerking his head toward the stairwell at the end of the hall.

Grier followed, her legs trembling with the effort to keep up. The stairwell was dark and narrow, the walls lined with cracks from the explosion. The air was thick with dust, making it hard to breathe, but Alec didn't slow down. He moved with purpose, his hand still gripping her arm as he led her down the stairs.

They reached the ground floor, and Alec paused, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. The front entrance was blocked by debris, the metal door twisted and bent from the blast. He cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening as he assessed their options.

"Back entrance," he said, more to himself than to Grier. "Come on."

They moved through the building, dodging fallen beams and navigating around piles of rubble. Grier's mind was racing, trying to keep up with the pace Alec was setting. The air was growing thicker with smoke, and her lungs burned with each breath, but she pushed the discomfort aside, focusing on the goal: escape.

Finally, they reached the back of the building, where a small, unmarked door led to the alley. Alec paused, pressing his ear against the door to listen for any signs of movement on the other side. Satisfied that it was clear, he slowly pushed the door open, the hinges creaking loudly in the otherwise silent night.

The alley was dark, the only light coming from the flickering streetlamps at the far end. The city was quiet—too quiet, as if holding its breath and waiting for something to happen. Alec stepped out first, pulling Grier along behind him, his hand never leaving her arm.

They moved quickly, sticking to the shadows as they made their way down the narrow alley. The sound of distant sirens grew louder, a reminder that the authorities would soon be on the scene. They had to disappear before that happened, or they'd be caught in the crossfire between the local police and whoever had attacked the safe house.

As they reached the end of the alley, Alec paused, his eyes scanning the street ahead. It was empty, but that didn't mean it was safe. He turned to Grier, his expression serious.

"Stay close," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We're not out of this yet."

Grier nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, the full weight of the danger they were in pressing down on her. She had been in dangerous situations before, but nothing like this. This was a new level of fear, a new level of vulnerability. But she didn't have time to dwell on it, didn't have time to let the fear take over. She had to focus, had to stay sharp if she wanted to survive.

They moved out into the street, keeping to the shadows as they made their way toward a parked car at the far end of the block. Alec had clearly planned their escape route, his movements deliberate and precise. Grier followed, trusting him to get them out of this alive.

But as they reached the car, a sudden shout rang out from behind them, followed by the sound of gunfire. Grier's heart jumped into her throat as Alec spun around, pulling her down behind the car for cover. The bullets struck the pavement around them, sending shards of concrete flying into the air.

"Stay down!" Alec ordered, his voice harsh with urgency.

Grier obeyed, her body trembling with fear as the gunfire continued. Alec returned fire, his shots precise and controlled, each one finding its mark. Grier could hear the sound of the attackers falling, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds. But the gunfire didn't stop, and Grier knew they were outnumbered.

"Move!" Alec shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the car's passenger side. "Get in!"

Grier scrambled into the car, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the seatbelt. Alec was already in the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life as he slammed his foot on the gas. The car shot forward, tires screeching as they sped down the street, bullets whizzing past them.

Grier glanced back, her heart racing as she saw the dark shapes of their attackers disappearing into the distance. They had made it, they had escaped—at least for now. But the danger was far from over, and Grier knew they were still being hunted.

As the car sped through the darkened streets of Moscow, Grier's mind raced, trying to piece together what had just happened. Who had attacked the safe house? How had Alec known to find her there? And why didn't he seem to recognize her? The questions buzzed in her mind, but there were no answers, not yet.

She turned to Alec, her green eyes searching his face for some sign of recognition, some indication that he knew who she was. But his expression was hard, focused, his mind clearly on the task at hand.

"Alec," Grier said, her voice trembling. "Do you know who I am?"

Alec's jaw tightened, his blue eyes flicking to her briefly before returning to the road. "Does it matter?"

Grier's heart sank at his response, but she didn't push further. This wasn't the time for personal revelations or confrontations. They were still in danger, still being hunted, and they needed to stay focused if they wanted to survive.

As they drove through the dark, empty streets, Grier felt a strange mixture of fear and excitement, the same conflicting emotions she had felt that night in Chicago. Alec McKennon was a man who commanded her attention, who drew her in despite the danger, despite the fear. And now, once again, she was in his hands, trusting him with her life.

But this time, the stakes were higher. This time, there was no room for mistakes, no room for hesitation. Grier knew that if they were going to survive, she had to trust him completely. And that was the scariest thing of all.

They drove in silence, the tension thick in the air. Grier's mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, trying to figure out what their next move would be. But all she could think about was Alec, the man who had saved her life, the man who had once brought her such incredible pleasure.

The man from whom she had run.

Now, there was no running. Now, there was only the fight for survival, and Alec McKennon was her only ally in that fight.

The car sped into the night, leaving the burning remains of the safe house far behind. But Grier knew that the danger wasn't over, not by a long shot. And as she glanced at Alec, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life had just taken a turn she could never have anticipated.