She had Chase, her brother, her JTT family, and Dr. Nalini Christina. Yeah, some days were still harder than others, but with the help of Tara’s kick-ass therapist, Gray was starting to believe she deserved to be loved. Deserved to be happy. Deserved the future Chase envisioned for them.
With a last look at the bottle of Goose, she stood, stripped, and found one of Chase’s T-shirts in a drawer. Normally, she’d sleep naked. But if an emergency video conference was needed to keep her from self-destructing, the least she could do was make sure she didn’t traumatize the doctor by showing up on camera with her boobs out.
CHAPTERSEVEN
At the sightof Gray sleeping peacefully, Chase’s shoulders dropped along with his tension. She had a tendency to turn her blood into alcohol when emotions overwhelmed, and Grant’s text had worried him.
Relieved, he took her phone from her hand and set it down next to the Detroit snow globe and bottle of Goose on the bedside table. Jesus. He owed Dr. Christina big time—because judging by the amount of vodka left in the bottle, Gray hadn’t indulged beyond the group shot.
Reasonable compared to the tequila she’d downed after discovering her freelance partner had been murdered by Johnson for the sole purpose of making her suffer. At the time, there’d been no opportunity to mourn for her best friend Tara.
Or her father.
Under attack by enemies unknown, and on the run after a botched attempt to take Johnson down, they’d scrambled to make it out of their assigned locations alive. The remaining members of the JTT coming together to find refuge and safety in northern Montana.
Off the grid and surrounded by mountains, unless someone shared the coordinates, the hunting lodge was impossible to locate. A perfect spot to recover from their wounds, both mental and physical.
Tak would have loved this place.
Damn it.Will. Tak will love this place.He was alive, and they were getting him back.
A hard squeeze between Chase’s ribs made his chest ache. From the day he’d jumped into Seattle’s storm-swelled Duwamish River to save Tak’s life, they’d been bound together. More than best friends, they had a connection he never thought to question.
Lured to the rocky shoreline by a couple of older boys, Tak had been no match for the teenagers. One hard shove and the raging current had swept him downriver.
There’d been no thought process. No hesitation. With a yell that brought his parents running, Chase had thrown himself into the frigid water. The river did the rest, the current bringing them together as it pummeled them against jagged rocks.
They had damn near drowned multiple times before he caught a branch on a downed tree, his other arm wrapped tight around Tak’s waist. He’d been almost seven at the time, and they’d been brothers ever since.
Yeah, Tak was alive. Chase would know if he wasn’t. So would Tak’s uncle.
No way Murtaugh Keenan would have left to run surveillance on Johnson if he believed otherwise. Tak had sacrificed himself to save Gray’s life. A man of honor, Mutt would do the same.
For now, she was safe, and Mutt remained in Washington, watching Johnson through the scope of his sniper rifle. One week. Chase was taking Gray to Mallorca and giving Adam one week to figure his shit out. If the JTT’s unofficial leader refused to accept the command his father had bestowed, Chase would take matters into his own hands.
He had a plan.
He always had a plan.
Priority one. Grace Grayson. She needed his last name. Needed the reassurance that what they had between them had no expiry date. He loved her—wasinlove with her—loved her so damn hard, he couldn’t breathe at the thought of losing her.
She loved him too. No question. Didn’t mean she wasn’t still a flight risk.
Raised in a military family, Gray had become used to the men in her life leaving, used to them disappearing, used to them dying. For years, she’d closed off her heart. Pushed people away before they could get close enough to hurt her.
Well, he’d be different. There’d be no pushing him away, and thanks to an all-expenses-paid vacation, courtesy of the illegal gun trafficking funds stolen by the JTT, he intended to prove it.
After that, he was going after Johnson. The bastard didn’t have Tak, but he knew who did, it was the only reason he was still alive. An oversight Chase planned to remedy as soon as he had his brother back.
The human equivalentof a furnace wrapped an arm around Gray from behind, waking her in an instant. Enveloped in a blanket of heat, she breathed Chase deep, his scent of fresh air with a hint of pine going a long way to soothe her. As promised, he had her snugged up tight against him, and her ass was eternally grateful.
He kissed the back of her head, and her heart rolled over. Chase had come back. Alive. And if his rock-hard cock was any indication, still in one piece. His hand wandered over her naked hip and burrowed beneath her T-shirt, his palm coming to rest on her breast. Her nipple peaked as he played, stroking his thumb back and forth over sensitive flesh.
“Did he suffer?” she whispered into the quiet of early dawn, unsure about what she wanted the answer to be.
“Yes. Beaten before we arrived.”
She nodded once, the sound of the cotton-covered pillow loud in her ear. “Did he know he was about to die?”
