Grayson sighed as he walked over to us. “I take it you aren’t going to give Margo and me some privacy.”
Leaning back, I put an ankle over my knee and settled in. “You would be correct.”
“Right, then,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Hayes being in here makes me more comfortable.”
We both looked at her, and my chest was about to explode. This woman had no idea what she did to me, the power she had over me, and logically, I was a fool to give her that power. On the other hand, I also didn’t give a fuck.
“Then he stays.”
She nodded and gave Gray a smile. “Thanks, big man.”
“Carrie is the love of my life.”
“Yes…I know that,” she replied slowly. “I think everyone knows that.”
“When I brought her back to Astoria, we wanted to spend a few days by ourselves because there was a warrant out for my arrest from the FBI,” he continued, his voice level.
“Wh-what?” she stammered, sitting up a bit.
He ignored her, continuing as he went to take a seat on the coffee table, his legs next to hers. “Then Michael saw us, and shortly after that, you were banging on Carrie’s door, demanding to see her while threatening me.”
“Well, I didn’t—”
“Carrie’s kidnapping scared the fucking shit out of you,” he said, his hands hanging between his knees, shoulders tight.
I rested my elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed my mouth, already knowing his damn play. “Gray,” I warned.
“Of course it did,” she whispered, eyes shining. “Those weeks, not knowing where she was, what you were doing, they were hell for everyone. Sarah and Rossy both nearly lost their minds and—”
“You cried yourself to sleep every night,” he finished.
My body went rigid and my hand slowly fell away from my face. She shot me a worried look, sitting up, putting her feet on the floor.
She’d been exposed.
Grayson had exposed something she didn’t want anyone to have.
“Grayson,” I clipped.
Again, he ignored me. “You want to know how I know that, Margo?” he pressed, leaning close to her, blocking my view. “Because my fiancée told me what you told her. She was distraught over the fact that you cared for her so fucking much—that everyone in Astoria cared for her, because people actually giving a shit about her was something she had never experienced in her old life.”
I heard a soft sob and I shot to my feet. “That’s enough,” I growled, rounding the table.
Grayson didn’t stop. He did what he was good at. He pushed and pushed until the person in his grasp reached their breaking point. His interrogation techniques favored that of Ash’s, whereas I was more like Dominic. I didn’t push. I watched, letting the person in front of me drive themselves to their own breaking points.
But that’s not what needed to happen here.
This was supposed to be a conversation, not a manipulative interrogation. “Back off,” I ordered, putting my hand on his shoulder, yanking him back.
He looked up at me, his scar on display. “She needs to know.”
“No,” I argued, grabbing her wrist. I pulled her off the couch and gently shoved her behind me, my hand on her stomach. Grayson was also on his feet, ready to start again. I lifted my finger. “Try that shit again, Gray. Try it again and I’ll lay you out on this goddamn floor.”
“She needs—”
“What Margo needs is people in her corner who give a shit about her well-beingandher fucking boundaries. If she doesn’t want Carrie or the others to know, then so be it,” I snapped. “When all this is over, Carrie will understand.”