A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(48)

Irelyn, with her uncanny talent, had read him like the proverbial book. Even at fifteen, she had been a beauty. He had fallen hard, as had been the plan. He had been so easily manipulated, so transparent. So damn na?ve. He had seen a lovely young woman who needed help and had been ensnared in her trap as effortlessly and quickly as a mouse.

His parents had fallen for her, too. Two people who had seen every trap and had survived the unimaginable had been duped by a fifteen-year-old con artist. Irelyn was just that good.

“Did you get any sleep?”

She stood in the doorway, an apparition and a dream. So many things had changed since that first meeting, but his fascination and need for her had never wavered.

“Some.” He held out his hand. “How are you feeling?”

Not moving from the door, she shrugged. “Fine. A little tired, a lot sore. Nothing that a few days of rest can’t fix.”

She was back to being wary again. Last night, need and desire had consumed them, reuniting them in a tender reunion of both body and mind. He’d woken this morning, not physically sated, but optimistic that they were headed in the right direction. Apparently, she wasn’t of the same mind.

And she was far from fine. Both the cut on her side and leg had required several stitches. The bruise on her face had darkened, as had the marks around her neck, indicating someone had tried to choke her. She had to be hurting. That pain was likely nothing, though, compared to the emotional trauma from last night.

He knew she had slept some, but she was still too pale. The ugly bruise on her jaw was a stark contrast against her ghost-white skin. Shadows lurked beneath her eyes, and her mouth drooped at the corners. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, and assure her everything was going to be okay. But platitudes were not his thing, nor were they hers. They dealt in reality. And the reality was, they had a huge chasm between them. The next few minutes were not going to be easy ones.

Wishing things could be different, he said, “We need to talk.”

“I know. Mind if I have some coffee first?”

He stood and went to the coffee bar. “Want anything to eat?”

“No. Coffee’s fine.”

He’d make sure they both had something substantial later. For now, caffeine would have to see them through this.

She went to the sofa and eased down onto the cushion. Handing her a cup of coffee, fixed the way she liked it, he waited until she’d taken a few sips. In his opinion, springing hard questions on anyone without the benefit of caffeine in their system was barbaric.

When her eyes were a bit more clear, he said, his tone gentle but resolute, “All right, Irelyn. Let’s talk. Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?”



Irelyn took another bracing swallow of coffee, a delaying tactic while her mind raced to pull herself out of the grief she’d woken with this morning. Grey would understandably give her only so much leeway.

Though her body still ached, her heart ached even more. She had learned that some things take years to overcome. This would be one of those things. Not remembering that she had a brother was excruciatingly painful. Killing him was far worse. There had been no choice for her. Grey would always be her first priority. She only wished she had been able to save Kevin as well. But she’d seen his eyes. They had been as empty as those of Hill Reed, the man who made him into a killer.

Grey deserved answers to all his questions, but for the life of her, she was having trouble finding the right starting place.

“I’m waiting.”

That icy tone helped. “Very well. What I did to Hill that night. What you insisted I do…I just…I couldn’t deal with it.”

“We’ve had this discussion before. I thought you said I couldn’t force you to do anything.”

Not a flicker of regret appeared on his face. She hadn’t really expected one. Why would he regret something that should have happened years ago? Still, the knowledge that he wasn’t the least bit sorry fueled her anger and her words.

“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt or damaged by it, Grey. For heaven’s sake, he was like a father to me.”

“Bollocks,” he snapped. “A father doesn’t torture and cause pain, Irelyn. A father doesn’t rape his child. A father does not make her kill.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” She sprang to her feet, started pacing. How could she explain something to him when she barely understood it herself?

“Hill Reed deserved to die. I, more than anyone, should have wanted him dead. And I did want him dead. I just—”

“What? Dammit, just spit it out, Irelyn.”

She whirled around, intending to shout the truth at him, but her words came out as a hoarse whisper. “For the first time ever, you treated me like the killer he trained me to be.”

Grey closed his eyes, and she saw the regret he hadn’t revealed before. “I’m sorry for that. More than you’ll ever know. It’s definitely not what I intended. You have never and will never be the killer he tried to make you.

“I can only say this so many times, Irelyn. The man needed to die. And there’s no one who deserved to do the killing more than you did.”

“You knew all along that Reed had nothing to do with Jonah’s supposed death. You knew he was still alive.”

“Yes.”